Drarry Oneshots

The Battle of Hogwarts

A/N- Hey Potterheads! So this is a oneshot of Harry and Draco during the Battle of Hogwarts. Depending in the response to this one I may do a few more parts to it, but only if you guys want it to go any further? It's slightly OOC, but oh well... Hope you enjoy! Leave a comment or press the little star if you want! Happy Reading :-)
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PART ONE
"We can't leave them!" Harry cried, dodging a flame that leapt up in front of him and turning around to head back into the Room of Requirement. Ron groaned loudly.

"If we die for them I'm gonna kill you, Harry!" he roared, steering his broom to follow his best friend.

Harry sped through the flaming mountains of junk, searching for the sleek blonde hair of Draco Malfoy. He could see Ron out of the corner of his eye, and Hermione clinging tightly to his waist, her eyes wide with fear.

Harry swerved around the side of a pile of clutter, and ducked out of the way of a metal rod sticking out.

"Harry! Look out!" Hermione screamed, and Harry looked up just in time to see a chair toppling down towards his head. He lifted his arms up instinctively, and yelped when the chair cracked over his arm, causing it to fall limply to his side.

Blinded by pain, he felt his legs skim the top of a mountain, and gasped as his ankles burned through his jeans. He looked up blearily, trying to ignore the pain, and suddenly, he spotted a head of silver hair at the top of a pile of stuff.

"Draco..." He whispered, speeding towards the blonde. He heard Ron and Hermione following him, and called, "down there!" The trio began to descend, dodging flames and clutter and praying they could get themselves and the Slytherins out alive.

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Draco clung tightly to the metal bedstead he had found, reaching one arm out to Goyle. His friend attempted to take hold of it, but both guys' hands were too sweaty, and he kept slipping.

"Come on, Goyle!" He said through gritted teeth, casting a wary glance at the flames gradually encasing them.

Finally, he managed to get a good grip of his friend's hand, and heave him up onto the bed. Draco looked around the room, trying to spot any of the others. Where was Crabbe? There he was, attempting to stop the Fiendfire emerging from his wand.

"Chuck it away, mate!" Goyle yelled, and Crabbe nodded reluctantly, throwing the wand into an old sink and beginning to climb up to Draco and Goyle.

While Goyle kept and eye on Crabbe, Draco kept searching around the Room of Requirement for the Gryffindors, and a way out. Had the trio got out safely? Were they trapped? Or worse, Draco gulped, already dead? And why did this tiara thing matter so much?

He took it out of his pocket, looking at it carefully. It didn't seem particularly special. Although, as he held it in his hands, he could've sworn he felt something moving against his palms. He shook his head. It was just his own pulse he could feel. Yet somehow, the tiara have him a sense of what he detected to be Dark Magic. And it scared him.

The pile swayed slightly and he grabbed the bedstead again, remembering where he was. How were they going to get out of here?

He slid carefully over to Goyle, who was willing Crabbe to continue climbing.

"Come on, mate," he was saying. "You're almost there. Just reach up and I can grab you."

Draco knelt down, looking over at Crabbe, who was holding tightly to a table leg and refusing to let go.

"Come on, Crabbe," he said. "Just reach one hand up..."

CRACK!

All three Slytherins' eyes widened with fear as the wooden leg began splintering under Crabbe's weight.

"Reach up! Just do it! Come on!" Goyle was practically begging his best friend now. Crabbe looked up at his only two friends, a tear in his eye, and suddenly he was falling... Falling... Falling...

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The three Gryffindors watched, horrified, as Vincent Crabbe fell, as if in slow motion, into the uncontrollable flames that he himself had created. There was nothing they could do to save him. They were completely helpless, and all they could do now was save the remaining two Slytherins atop the tottering mountain of rubbish.

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Suddenly, a familiar voice roared, "Draco!" and the blonde looked up in shock. Had Harry really come back for him? He couldn't believe it. Yet there he was, the Golden Boy who had hated him for seven years, heading straight towards him, one hand reaching out.

Draco lifted his hand up to meet him, but their fingers barely brushed as Harry misjudged the height. But he simply turned and came straight back, this time catching the blonde's hand perfectly and hauling him up onto his broom. He watched as Weasley and Granger did the same for Goyle, and choked back a sob as he saw that Crabbe had disappeared.

The five people on the two broomsticks sped through the maze of clutter, dodging flames, casting Aguamenti and searching for the door.

"There!" Draco pointed over Harry's shoulder, and Ron steered towards the exit. But Harry was simply staring at Draco's hand.

"You found it..." He breathed. Draco looked at his hand and realised he was still clutching the tiara.
"Ummm... Yes?" Draco wasn't sure what to say.
"Draco!" The blonde jumped, looking at Granger. "Throw it into the fire!" She yelled.

Draco looked at her as though she was mad, but there was such a determined gleam in her eyes that he cast his eyes over the burning rubbish below them and dropped the tiara straight into the flames.

Immediately, the fire erupted like a volcano, and the flames created (to Draco's horror) the shape of the Dark Lord's face. Fire-Voldemort followed them all the way out of the Room of Requirement, until they rolled, coughing and spluttering, off of their brooms and out into the cold danger and debris of the battle raging around them.

"You destroyed it!" Draco groaned as Harry leapt on him, embracing him in a surprisingly nice one-armed hug. Draco awkwardly patted him on the back and glared at Ron, Hermione and Goyle as they snorted with laughter.

"Harry..." Draco gasped, "I... Can't... Breathe!" The brunette let go of the blonde and got off of his stomach. He muttered an apology, his cheeks very red, and held out a hand to help Draco up.

"Wait..." Harry looked carefully at the Slytherin. "You just called me Harry."
"Ummm... Yeah?"
"What does that mean?"

Draco rolled his eyes. Gryffindorks were so clueless. "Potter," he emphasised the use of the boy's surname, "you just saved my life. I may be an asshole but I'm not downright ungrateful."

Harry grinned. "Is this the Draco Malfoy way of saying thank you?"
Draco struggled for a second, looking at his feet, before saying, "I guess..."

"So... We're alright?" Draco looked up and was surprised to see an uncertain look in Harry's eyes. He realised that the boy wasn't only talking about recent events, he was talking about everything that had happened in the past seven years.

And Draco, grinning from ear to ear, nodded and said, "we're alright."