Drarry One Shots

Proper

eek so y'all I haven't updated in literal ages and also I'm like 95% certain absolutely no one's going to read this but oh well :P

Haha also I'm writing this instead of doing my homework oops 

Harry steps into Madam Malkin's Wizardwear shop with a jingle and a tremble of trepidation. 

What if I have to get tested to determine what size I am? I don't know any magic!

He quickly shakes his head and bravely steps forward, away from the familiar doorway. With a quick, furtive glance to make sure no one is hiding behind the broad front desk, he steps toward an old cash register and a tarnished silver bell that sits on it. With one quick, decisive motion, he swings his arm down in a large arc to land (perhaps a bit heavily) on the small knob on top of the bell.

The bell rings louder than any regular bell should, startling Harry back so that he bumps into the door again and causes more jingles.

Suddenly a warm, matronly woman steps out from behind a tall rack of long robes that seemed far too large for anyone Harry had met (possibly with the exception of Hagrid). 

"Here for your school robes, dear?" she called out in a warm, bright voice not too unlike the jingle of her door bells.

"Er... I suppose."

"Well, come on back. In fact, I'm just now sizing one other young man who came in for his robes just a bit ago! Seems to be about your age, and he's rather charming." she said with a wink.

Harry was shocked at this.

Is she trying to set me up with this mystery boy? The wizarding world must be more accepting than I thought.

Before he could open his mouth to ask who knows what, perhaps something about his (he thought) unnatural fixation on some of the boys at his old primary school, the pair arrived at what must have been the back of the shop, where there was a row of short pedestals surrounded by mirrors. 

After stepping up onto one of the pillars, Harry gazed at his own reflection, reflected back at him from three angled mirrors.

Scuffed, muddy trainers (with one shoelace untied), tattered jeans, the least revolting of Dudley's old sweaters (that he had to roll up the sleeves five times), his scrawny neck and one shoulder peeking out of the stretched-out neckline, his small lips and nose, his huge green eyes half shielded by his thickly Sellotaped round glasses, his thin scar just barely peeking out of his hair, and finally the dark, messy, black mop laying atop his head like an undergroomed sleepy poodle.

He sighed.

~Draco's POV~

He was standing on a short, stout pedestal, staring at himself, when he heard a soft sigh from the mirror booth/pedestal station next to him. 

Huh? Who is that? He's kinda cute... I wonder what's bothering him?

He was about to go over and introduce himself ~properly~, but as soon as he moved one foot to step off the pedestal, the long, winding tape measure viciously grabbed his ankle and promptly started measuring his inseam.

Having a seemingly aggressive tape measure so close to his *bits* sufficiently persuaded Draco to refrain from introducing himself for the time being.

It was only when the cute boy turned did Draco see the boy's frail shoulder protruding from the oversized mustard brownish yellow sweater.

That's hot.

Wait! I don't even know if he's gay! I can't just go out and crush on straight boys!