⎯⎯ DRARRY ONESHOTS !

dogs

"Let's get a dog."

At this, Draco's reading glasses drooped slightly down his arched nose and he paused his reading to surmise an unamused eyebrow to the raven.

"Pardon?"

"A dog. I said, let's get a dog." He repeated.

"I know what I hear, Potter. Why are you suddenly in dire of one? Am I not interesting anymore to you that you felt the need to take care of another living creature?" Draco wondered vocally with a slight scowl, boring the classic Malfoy sneer towards his expectant husband.

Harry blinked dumbly for a second then proceeded to furrow his eyebrows, "You're ridiculous. Of course not, I just thought the house is a little bit empty with only us and Kreacher occupying it. We are both are well aware that we aren't ready to adopt a little child, so why not get a dog?"

Draco pondered about it for a while, and abruptly stood up from the velvety couch and put the book he was reading aside, "No."

He trailed his way to the kitchen to make himself tea, with Harry following him eventually with a pleading look etched on his face.

"Oh come on! Don't you think that we need a dog? Having only Kreacher here is kind of unsettling, he likes to creep around the corners." Harry visibly shuddered.

After Hogwarts, Harry had asked Draco if he would like to move in with him to the house that Sirius had inherited to him, Grimmauld. And Draco, without much thinking, agreed much to Harry's satisfaction.

He even became best-friends with Kreacher, which was not surprising in the slightest since Kreacher always favours purebloods more; and the fact that Draco is related to the Blacks family makes it better for Kreacher. Poor elf is just missing Regulus, is all.

"Kreacher isn't that bad. And he isn't an animal as barbaric as a dog, Potter." He waved his wand and a jar of sugar immediately flew into his hands as he mixed some with his tea.

"A dog isn't even that bad, Draco! Sirius had a dog, too, and he was the best. I just thought that Grimmauld wouldn't be complete without a presence of a dog. Sirius loved dogs." Harry pouted slightly, leaning against the countertop. "And stop calling me Potter, you're a Potter too if you aren't aware."

"Don't you dare pull the pity card on me, Harry Potter. It doesn't work for me." Draco drawled airily, stirring his tea languidly.

"Please, Draco. Didn't you have a small poodle, too?" Harry shot back, squinting his eyes.

He brittled at the vague mention of his old poodle, he was 8 years of age when he had Mr. Winkles, and he died when he was 15 years old. Poor Mr. Winkles. Draco loved him very much.

"Do not bring Mr. Winkles into this, Potter."

Harry raised his hands up in surrender, "Fine, fine! Sorry! But don't you just miss him?"

Draco mulled, once in a while taking a sip from his steaming cup of tea. He did miss Mr. Winkles, that small bundle of energy fueled with unnecessary hyperbole packed in such a tiny body.

He would scamper everywhere across the manor and Draco and basically an army of house-elves would have to search through every nooks and crannies of the labyrinthine manor just to find the small creature.

His father's attraction towards the trifling canine was quite ludicrous, he'll admit that. He'll just glare at the dog in visible disgust and dare Draco say, distrust.

Once in his young age, Draco would run to his father with an armful of Mr. Winkles and transferred the dog to his father's hesitant arms. Lucius would hold the dog in repugnance, sneering slightly towards the waggling dog.