DRARRY ONESHOTS (fluff + smut)

Whoops (fluff)

His hands ran through his hair. He was shirtless. His breathing intensified, turning to a pant.

"I like you better like this," he said. "Less arrogant, less infuriatingly perfect."

His voice raspy with concentration. His pale hands inching up the other's chest, towards his neck. His stark blond hair messy. His soft lips tracing his collar bone. 

The bed sheets tangled between their legs. The curtains of the four poster threatening to be torn from their rungs. The only light is from an illuminated wand that had been cast aside. The clothes were everywhere. How did I get here? The one boy thought.

Harry woke with a start, but he didn't dare open his eyes immediately. Instead, he lied in the dark, taking in what he had just seen. He tried to make sense of it all, to put the pieces of the puzzle together. It was a sex dream. It was a bloke. He was blond. Pale. Well that doesn't help at all, many people match that description.

Harry realised that his head was pounding, so he decided he had to get up. He cracked open his eyes only to shut them again, thinking he was going to go blind from the light. Harry lied there for another moment before rubbing his eyes, opening them ever so slowly. The only thing he sees is the red of the canopy above him. He moved his arm to feel around his night table for his glasses, achieving nothing but knocking over a lamp. Harry groaned, forcing himself to get up. He searched the ground for any 3D object that could be his glasses. Finally, he found them. His fingers wrapped around them when the door burst open.

"We saved breakfast for you guys and left it on the common room table, but class starts in ten minutes so you better hurry up," Hermione said before closing the door again. Her statement was met with groans from both Ron and Seamus, who Harry realised were also in the dorm and just barely awake. 

Harry scanned his brain, trying to figure out what day it was and what class he had first. Monday. Potions. Shit. Harry threw his glasses on and scrambled around looking for his robes. He threw on the nearest clothing items to him and hastily grabbed his textbook and homework. He ran a hand through his hair, which definitely made it more messy, and walked swiftly to Ron's bed. 

"Ron, wake up!" He shook his friend but only received moans as he pulled the sheets over his head.

"Turn the light out, will ya?" Ron mumbled. Harry rolled his eyes before flicking his wand at the lamp. "Your funeral," he grumbled before hurrying out the door and into the common room. Hermione had left three pieces of toast and apples. Harry took one of each and shovelled them into his mouth as he flew down the stairs to the dungeons, hardly bothering to notice the hammering sensation in his head anymore. He was finished with the apple and looking for a garbage, but couldn't find one so he chucked it in the courtyard. 

"Mr. Potter," came the stern voice of Professor McGonagall. Harry winced, this was not what he needed right now. "I seem to recall that you are a wizard. You know the spell to deal with that," she said. Harry smiled to himself.

"Sorry, professor," he called as he went quickly to the apple, speaking the vanishing incantation. 

"Er- Mr. Potter," McGonagall started, but Harry didn't have time to chat. "Sorry, professor, I'm going to be late for class!"

"It's just- oh never mind," she said as Harry ran off.

When Harry arrived at the classroom, everyone there was just getting in their seats. Relived, Harry took a seat beside Hermione. Snape had warned him about being late to class just the other day, so he really couldn't afford to be late again.

"No Ron or Seamus, I see," Hermione said, hardly glancing at Harry.  "I tried my best," he responded. "You seemed to have no trouble getting up this morning, then."

"Well I didn't really drink as much as the rest of you," she said, looking up this time. "Where did you go, anyways? I couldn't find you sometime after eleven."

"I- I don't remember." Harry said, trying his best to fill in the gap in his mind.

"H-Harry... why do you-" but she was cut off.

"Settle down, everyone," Snape said as he walked to the front of the class. The last person Harry heard speaking was Malfoy.

"I have no idea where I put it," he was saying to Parkinson before he fell silent. 

Snape carried on with the lesson for about five years straight, but Harry was zoning out. By the time he was done talking, there was about five minutes left of class and Hermione was packing up. She looked like she was going to say something, but cut herself off as she looked somewhere to Harry's right.

"Hey Draco, I think I found it," Parkinson said. Harry turned to see what they were talking about to find the pair of them staring right at him. Malfoy was smirking. Hermione looked between the two boys, realising soon enough that Harry did not know what was going on.

"Harry, your tie." She muttered.

He looked down, only to find that it was not his tie at all. It had green and silver stripes, not red and gold. The others had the privilege of witnessing the puzzle getting put together inside Harry's mind. He blushed, staring at the cloth.

"I'll let you have it for the day," Malfoy said, grinning as he turned to walk out of the classroom.