Drarry One Shots

The Dragon Moon Café

A/N A Drarry short story. Contains some swearing and mild violence. Mostly fluff. No smut, though sexual tension/reference!

Of course, I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters (though I may add a few new characters as the story requires). Ownership of the incredible Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended and no money is being made.

I hope you enjoy.. xx

*****

Harry groaned inwardly.

He knew he should not have wandered down this deserted alleyway alone because the bright Christmassy lights from the isolated café looked appealing on the cold winter evening.

He knew he should have a shave and have his hair cut because his unwashed long shaggy hair and straggly beard made him stand out.

He knew he should not be wearing dirty, ripped skinny jeans, scuffed broken boots, and an ancient long wool coat because it made him look like an easy target.

He knew he looked gaunter than usual because he hadn't been eating properly of late and it made him look weak, especially considering his lack of stature.

'Scrawny ponce,' one of the men had called him as he pointed him out to his friends.

He wondered if he could reach the café before the trouble started. But then again, he knew it was past closing time and even if anyone was still there, they would be cleaning up or counting the cash and unlikely to open the doors to someone who looked like he did.

He knew he looked homeless.

It went with the territory of living off the grid for months on end or, like recently, over a year.

It went with the job.

He didn't care. In fact, he rather enjoyed it.

He suited it.

He needed to be a wanderer.

He sighed. He'd felt homeless ever since the war.

At least this wouldn't take long. There was only three of them.

The problem with living off the grid was his magic stored up. It was powerful enough with regularly controlled use. But unused, it became its own entity. It prickled beneath the surface of his skin, eager for release. He took pleasure in the power coursing through his body. It was utterly sensual. Still, he'd have to control it otherwise there would be some serious damage to the vicinity which even the Ministry would have trouble explaining away.

The café had large black letters that arched across the front window, they read 'The Dragon Moon Café'. He saw that there was indeed two people cleaning up inside just as he felt the ripple in the air behind him.

He whipped around before the first punch came into contact and raised an eyebrow. His assailant had been aiming for the small of his back to floor him, but without much effort because he'd assumed he was vulnerable.

Sloppy.

And cowardly.

Harry didn't like cowards.

The bunched fist seemed to hit an invisible wall, stopping before it made contact with Harry's surprisingly solid abdomen. The beefy thug who had thrown the punch stared at his hand in horror: his arm was twisting in on itself of its own accord, he was being pulled into an armlock by an unseen force. The man yelped, doubling over at the pain as his arm yanked higher behind his back. One of the men turned on the spot and fled. Harry carelessly flicked the air with a finger and the fleeing man was slammed against the wall, sliding into a crumpled unconscious heap at its base. There was a smash of glass as, seconds later, other man flew through the window of the shop opposite the café, landing in an immobile tangle of fairy-lights.