Drarry Oneshots

"Aren't you going to say something?"

(A/N) I decided to do one of these writing challenges! To make it simple, I'm just going to go in order. Enjoy! P.S. My brother who knows all about Harry Potter and doesn't know I write fanfiction (or anything LGBTQ+ for that matter) is sitting next to me and I'm just praying that he doesn't look at my laptop screen.

***

Harry stared straight ahead, pressing his body against the dark wall

The green and black robe flew past him out of the corner of his eyes. Harry waited until he could no longer hear the footsteps in the corridor before pursuing the boy. This was far from his first time sneaking out after hour; he wasn't about to make a rookie mistake.

Harry's heart pounded in his head and blocked any rational thoughts as he speed-walked down the corridor to the boy's bathroom, where Malfoy was headed.

6th year and I've finally caught you, bitch,

Harry thought.

Hermione and Ron were saying I was obsessed but look. I was right all along.

Quietly opening the door, Harry tip-toed into the bathroom, avoiding the puddles all over the floor.

He peeked around the corner and saw the one, the only, Draco Malfoy, cocking his head to the side and running his fingers over his collarbone, looking at it as if searching for something. Through the mirror, Harry could see his enemy's face.

Dripping with water, his skin was paler than normal, and the circles under his eyes were so deep that it looked as if he had been sucker-punched right in the eye. The grey of his irises were overshadowed by the redness surrounding it, the veins in his eyes pronounced to the extreme. The red was brighter than the sun; blinding and distracting.

Harry tore his eyes away and leaned against a stall, drawing his wand and holding it close to his chest. Keeping his breathing steady, he realized that the panting was coming from Draco, not himself.

Sneaking another glance, Harry couldn't help but turn the glance into a stare, as he noticed more and more.

The heavy rising and falling of Draco's chest, the tight and firm grip the boy was using to hold his wand by his side, the messy hair that was usually slicked to the side with gel, it all put Harry on edge. It was extraordinarily rare, maybe even impossible, to see a Malfoy anything other than put together. A Malfoy wouldn't allow it.

Well, it wasn't like Harry was being granted permission, to be seeing Draco in this state, but the point still stands.

Draco flicked his eyes up in the mirror and caught the green of Harry's stare. Draco turned around and, in one swift move, pointed his wand at Harry's chest and cast two non-verbal spells.

Harry felt his wand, and only defense, fly out of his hand to a few stalls down. Before any act of protest or protection could be employed, Harry lost any and all feeling in his limbs as they bound together and he fell onto his back and into a puddle of water.

Splashing and trickling were all Harry could register as he stared up at the ceiling, praying that Draco was thinking with a clear mind.   

A pale-faced Draco appeared in front of his eyes, the signature mix of a smirk and sneer resting on his chapped lips. Harry felt a jab in his chest which he assumed was Draco's wand, and braced himself for impact.

"Why the fuck are you here?"

Harry, on instinct, replied with a snarl,

"It is a public washroom, you know. You don't own the place."