Drarry One-Shots

ᗷᖇᗴᗩK ᗰY ᕼᗴᗩᖇT ᗩᑎᗪ I'ᒪᒪ ᑭᒪᗩᑎ YOᑌᖇ ᗯᗴᗪᗪIᑎᘜ

𝚃𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚎: 𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝙼𝚢 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐
𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟷𝟿.𝟹𝚔
𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍: 𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝟷𝟽𝚝𝚑, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟶
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝 (𝚝𝚘𝚙!𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢)
𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔: 𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐
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Draco Malfoy was standing by the bar with some type of blue mead in a crystal-looking glass, knuckles white over the fragile tumbler. Draco's eyes were trained on Harry Potter, whose own eyes were closed while his infamous mouth meshed and mashed together with that of Ginevra Weasley. Draco felt sick, yet could not look away.

It was pain that he felt. Pain that made him feel heavy in the heart and light in the head. Watching someone who he'd liked forever - obviously not Ginevra - pushed so closely against another body, a body that wasn't his? It brought more pain than could be washed down by any amount of blue mead.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Draco wasn't supposed to be spending his twenty-fourth birthday watching the bloody Golden-Boy press tongues with his bloody Golden-Girlfriend. He was supposed to be having fun, laughing with Pansy, Blaise and Theo, reminiscing on the past year. But he wasn't doing that, was he? He was standing - not even bothering to sit! - at the bar, horrible blue mead in hand, throat dry, knees weak, heart in the act of breaking over and over and over again, and then maybe just once more for good measure.

He was watching, just as he had been doing for the last seven years; seven years since the start of this tradition, and Ginevra was still at Potter's hip. How the pair had managed to stick with each other without a question of a marriage proposal was beyond Draco, because he knew that he would probably jump to it on the first date with Potter. That is, if he was given a chance. But he wasn't. He wasn't given that chance, and he wasn't going to be given that chance. Not now, not ever.

His gaze of longing barely faltered when Pansy - that awful she-devil! - ran her hand through the air in front of the poor mesmerized Malfoy's face. Her attempts at regaining his attention failed miserably, resorting in a small slap to the side of Draco's face.

"Draco! I swear to Merlin, you'll regret it if I don't get an answer in the next three seconds." Pansy slapped him for a second time.

"I'm here, Pans." Draco's own throat felt dry, and he soon realized that his mouth felt the same way. He'd allowed the ice in his glass of blue mead to melt down to almost nothing, and he sighed, setting it on the bar. "I'm here."

Pansy straightened her posture, looking over to where Potter was engaged in his... activities. "Stop looking at him, for fuck's sake," she vituperated.  "Look at me, Draco."

"I need a glass of water," Draco mumbled, and Theo flagged down the bartender.

"Draco," Pansy sighed. "Please, look at me."

Draco did as she asked. Her worry-lines were growing with age, and Draco saw them now, peeping out from behind the copious heaps of makeup that decorated her face. She frowned at him, eyes filled with signs of brooding.

Pansy put a hand on his shoulder and gave him stern smile - if that's even possible. "Draco, we need to stop coming here."

The bartender handed Draco a glass, and the blond cast a quick aguamenti. He took a long sip, and tried his best to avoid looking over toward where Potter was, presumably still engulfed in lust for the Weaslette.