Drarry Oneshots!

In the Great Hall by remy-areyousrs

Harry had been hoping to literally sleep for days so he could just work everything off and maybe process the Last Battle, but it was not to be. He woke to Ron's snoring and tried for half an hour to go back to sleep.

Tried being the keyword, because sleep seemed light years away.

Finally, sick of trying to catch up on much-needed Z's, he got out of bed, put on his socks and walked down into the common room. The fire was dying out, and the rest of the room was in disorder, offering neither warmth nor comfort. With a sigh, and determined not to dwell on those lost forever, Harry covered himself with his Invisibility Cloak and left the common room.

He roamed through the hallways and passages, glad that he didn't have the Marauder's Map with him. It would only remind him of the people who weren't on it, and right now, after such a phenomenal triumph, he didn't want to feel any pain.

Fifteen minutes later found him outside the Great Hall. He hesitated for a moment, before steeling himself and walking in.

They had removed the bodies. The Great Hall almost looked like it used to. The house tables and the teachers' table were damaged in places, but other than that it almost looked immaculate. Harry looked around, taking it all in hungrily and trying to imagine what it would have been like if Voldemort had never existed, if he still had parents. All those people would still be alive, and Hogwarts wouldn't half be in ruins.

He was pulled out of his reverie when he saw a dark shape huddled over one of the House tables - Gryffindor, he realized. He walked closer, squinting as he tried to make out who it was. He was about three feet away when he recognized the person as Draco Malfoy.

He shifted closer, trying not to make any sound. At any rate, Malfoy seemed too out of it to hear him.

Carefully he lowered himself on the bench next to his rival, but facing the other way. Malfoy seemed not to notice the slight scraping of the bench's legs on the floor. He was slumped forward on the table, his head resting on his arms and his face staring right ahead. Harry observed him for a few moments, trying to figure out what he was doing here at this time of night. Perhaps he was unable to sleep too.

Malfoy surprised Harry by speaking. "I know you're here, Potter."

Harry jumped, causing the bench to scrape against the floor some more and effectively giving himself away.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone coming out harsher than he meant it to.

"Thinking," answered Malfoy, surprising Harry yet again. He'd been expecting something sarcastic.

He took off his Cloak - no point in wearing it when Malfoy knew he was there - and, leaning back against the edge of the table, asked, "About?"

The blond shrugged. "Things," he replied simply, still not looking at Harry. "What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't sleep," answered Harry, figuring that if Malfoy was being civil he should try to be as well.

Malfoy snorted, "Obviously."

They lapsed into a silence that Harry found oddly comforting. It was a relief to get away from people intent on admiring him and fussing over him, or wanting to talk about the war. He smirked as he realized he no longer hated Draco Malfoy. If anything, he felt sympathetic towards him. Strange what an enchanted fire could do to you.