Harry Potter and a Collection of Oneshots

Drunk Confession - Drarry

A/N: I read this idea on tumblr ("Drarry Prompt Of The Day"). Check it out if you need a boost! 

Prompt #674: "Can you do one where they see each other at a muggle bar after the war, and they are both just so drunk, and then Draco confesses to Harry that he had a crush on him forever."

Wondering the empty streets of London late at night, Harry Potter sighed as he walked, hands in the pockets of his Muggle sweatshirt. He looked down at his feet, his worn sneakers and ripped Muggle "jeans", and kicked a few pebbles out of the way. 

That night, he decided to escape the magical world for some peace and quiet, although living with the Dursleys taught him that Muggles were just as loud as his people. Both were humans, after all. 

To be more specific, Harry wanted to escape his life as a wizard for one night. He wanted to escape being the "Chosen One" who defeated Lord Voldemort, once and for all. Who survived two times the grisly curse Avada Kedavra. He was famous, labeled a hero and idolized by everyone, a well known and respected Auror and professor at Hogwarts teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was wealthy, resourceful. 

And yet, Harry was unhappy. 

-"Hey! Watch where yer' goin'!"- A man bumped into him, with a bottle in his hand and spilling all its content as he wobbled on his feet. 

-"S—sorry."- Harry mumbled, curiously watching as the man teetered away.

-"Weirdo."

Harry wasn't privy to Muggle drinks and he was hankering for his own bottle. He searched for the place where the man came from and found himself walking to it. The local pub was small but undeniably cozy; it was quiet, discarding the low singing of a beautiful woman with a deep velvety dress, and calm. No one was fighting, no magic was bouncing the walls, and no one was pestering him with questions of the Dark Lord or begging for his autograph. 

He took a seat on one of the stools and waved for the bartender's attention.

-"What can I get you, young man?"- The man asked. 

-"Er—the best you've got."- Said Harry, slightly awkward. Of course he knew Muggles had their own alcoholic drinks, but he didn't knew the names. He never even tasted one before. Harry only remembered Uncle Vernon returning home one night, walking silly and red-faced, and Petunia yelling that he should go to bed because he was too drunk to even stand on his feet.

The bartender arched a brow, -"Vodka?"

-"Y—yes, thank you."

The bartender shot him an odd look before bending to retrieve a white bottle of vodka and pouring it into a small glass. Harry was confused, but said nothing. He picked the glass once the bartender left to attend another client and tilted it into his mouth. It was a bad idea; the foreign liquid was hot, burning his tongue and all the way down his throat. Harry bolted to his feet and coughed loudly, earning himself Muggles' attention. Including the bartender's, who offered... another liquid. Harry snatched it from his hand and drank it too. The burning in his mouth was smothered.

-"You had no idea what you were asking for, didn't you?"- The man said, smirking.

Harry returned the glass and straightened up, -"Thank you, but I'm fine. I'd like another."

The bartender shook his head, -"I don't think so, pal. I don't want to have to drag you outta my bar. Beer it is."

-"Fine."- Harry grumbled. He didn't know what beer was either, but he didn't dare question the man.

For the next few minutes, Harry just drank this "beer". It didn't burn, like the vodka, but it made him feel buzzy and dipsy. Of course, it was enough to drown his woes and forget, even if for a few hours before he returns home. At least he couldn't remember his last dispute with Ginny. Their two sons and daughter had been there. It was horrible, seeing their scared faces. It hurt him and Ginny both.