Drarry One Shots

Language, Potter

Revised: 8/2021
Tags/Warnings: The Yule Ball, fourth year, kissing
Summary: The frustration of it all gets to Harry and causes him to flee the Yule ball and walk to the Great Lake to vent. Draco follows him out, and some unknown attraction is sorted out.

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Harry muttered angrily under his breath, skipping stones into the Great Lake. They shattered the waters still surface, sending the reflection of the high moon scattering. "Bloody ball, bloody tournament, bloody date," he chanted, his throws becoming angry pelts rather than the skips they had been. "Bloody dance, bloody cup, arrgh!" Harry grabbed a handful of rocks and threw them all as hard and far as he could. He didn't watch where they landed in the water, instead watching his feet kick the ground.

He had walked out here shortly after the mandatory dance the champions partook in. The embarrassment and awkwardness of it all had him feeling itchy and trapped. Ron had patted his back as he ran away, the frilly sleeves fluttering dramatically. Though Harry had been teasing him for it since the robes arrived, it didn't bring Harry amusement in that moment. He kicked a slightly large rock, expecting it to roll. But the thing seemed to be stuck to the ground, or maybe Harry was just tiring out, but it didn't move as he struck it. "Bollocks!" Harry cursed, jumping on his good foot and falling back on his arse. He lay there for a moment, tossing an arm over his eyes. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

"That's some aggressive language for a Gryffindor, Potter. I thought you were better than that," an unmistakable voice drawled. Harry sighed, the anger leaving him in a whoosh of exhaustion. "Whatever you want, Malfoy, I don't want to bloody well hear it." Harry cringed at the sound of his own voice. He sounded choked up. He waited for the mocking that he expected from the blond, but couldn't find it in himself to be apprehensive or combative.

His emotions and mind had been in a state of distress for far too long, only made worse by his name flowing out of the cup, which he had taken to calling 'the event.' Before 'the event' he had been dealing with his worsening home life, plagued with thoughts of his future and when he could escape. He wasn't sure what he would grow to do if he ever managed to make it on his own, and besides that there was the stupid teenage drama. Ron and Hermione and Viktor and all that ridiculousness, on top of his own heart yearning for something he couldn't ever have.

He could never have it, because the person he wanted to hold him most of all and to whisper to him that it was all okay was standing a few feet away from him. He hated Harry's guts, found him revolting besides the household rivalry. Harry wished he had been able to keep his eyes to himself during Quidditch, during meals and in classrooms. But every time he let himself slip he found his eyes straying back to the blond hair, high cheek bones, and bright eyes.

But there was no point in trying. Draco proved that to him weekly. "You sound pathetic, Potter. Why aren't you basking in the attention? That dance was rather horrific but not worth this temper tantrum."

Harry moved his arm away so he could look at the boy. Draco stood a few feet away from him, arms crossed and head tilted. He was looking directly at Harry, waiting for a response. Harry gave him a hard stare, and wondered at the rush of emotion he felt when Draco took a step back. Was he glad Draco had seen the frustration? Sad he had moved further away? Harry wasn't sure, but when Draco continued to stare at him he just shook his head and looked back towards the lake, sitting up.

"You'd think that," Harry said eventually, almost too quite for Draco to hear. Draco watched as Harry turned away from him, propping his arms behind him to hold him up while his feet stretched in front of him. Draco looked at the lake in turn, wondering what was so captivating about it. After finding nothing, Draco shook his head. Harry was more likely staring into space than the actual lake.

Draco hesitated for a moment, then sat about a foot away from Harry, crossing his legs and placing his hands in his lap. Usually he would have winced at dirtying his tailored robes in such a way, but his mind was on other things.

Harry gave him a sidelong look, but remained how he was otherwise. "I'm surprised how quite you are. I would've expected at least for jibes or insults or rants or something by now, but instead you're sitting next to me. Getting close so you can aim better?" Harry said with a snort. "I took you for more of a 'get them while their back is turned' kind of guy."

Harry didn't see how Draco cringed at the words. Draco felt hurt, but knew he had earned the distrust. He didn't respond, letting the silence and tension grow.

"I've always liked crescent moons," Harry remarked after some time, eyes cast upwards. Draco followed his eyes. The moon was curved delicately, framed by starts in a cloudless sky.

Draco looked away from the sky to Harry. He could see the moons reflection in his bright green eyes. "Yeah," he spoke softly, "beautiful." Harry turned, surprised to see Draco looking into his eyes. They studied each other, taking a chance in this rare privacy they had.

Draco's pale skin complimented his paler hair, and pinkish lips. His eyes stood out in the darkness, mirroring the blue of the sky and the lake. Delicate cheek bones and a softly curved nose made him much more angular than the other fourth years, though his face was rounded out by baby fat.

If Draco was everything light, Harry was everything dark. Dark skin and hair broken up by bright green eyes atop a large nose, rough skin, and dark red lips.

They each crept the smallest bit closer at the watched each other in silence. Soon tentative lips brushed together, and then again more confidently. Harry draped himself over Draco, guiding him gently to lie on his back in the grass while Harry hovered over him, hands on either side of Draco's head.

They kissed intensely until need for air broke them apart. They were inches from each other, breathing heavily and feeling sensitive lips from the aggressive extended pressure. Harry slowly brought one hand to rest against Draco's cheek, caressing his face. "What does this mean?" Harry whispered.

"I...I don't know," Draco whispered back. Music and laughter could be heard from the Great Hall, reminding both the boys that they had been missing for awhile and someone might come looking.

"Do you-would you- uhm. Wanna do this again?" Harry stuttered, getting distracted by Draco's smile and his own nerves.

"Yeah, we should. Yeah." Draco nodded. "But we should get back."

Harry lifted himself off and away from Draco, feeling a tingling in his hands that had accumulated while he had been holding himself up. He shook them around, trying to help the circulation while Draco gathered himself and patted his robes clean. He smiled at Harry, making his heart flutter.

"I'll see you," Draco said.

"Yeah, see you." Harry watched him go, waiting until Draco had disappeared into the castle for a few minutes before following himself. He wasn't sure what came next, but he knew it wasn't walking hand-in-hand back into the Great Hall where his best friends and makeshift date awaited. Though he hated going back into the Hall at all, he was looking forward to looking at Draco dance and move for a bit longer. The punch and snacks had also looked tasty.

Harry walked into the Hall with a bounce in his step and a smile on his face.