Harry Potter One Shot And Imagine Book

Draco Malfoy

"Why do you look like that?"

[Y/N] has started laughing, staring at Draco. They're sitting on the couch of the Slytherin common room—the one right by the fireplace—and her legs are draped across Draco's lap, the same way they have been for the past thirty minutes of their free period.

The book in her hands is set down on the couch as she fixes him with an amused stare, a grin already stretching its way across her lips. Draco tears his gaze away from the blazing hearth to look at her, eyebrows raised in question.

"Look like what?" His brows furrow.

"I don't know, like someone killed your pet rabbit."

"I don't have a pet rabbit."

[Y/N] rolls her eyes and scoffs, but the smile on her face is ridiculously fond. "Yes, Draco, I know you don't have a pet rabbit. It’s called a figure of speech."

Draco wrinkles his nose. "I’m well aware what a figure of speech is—"

"There it is again!" she all but yells, laughing, gesturing wildly towards him with her hands as if that will help Draco realize what the bloody hell she's on about. (He doesn't.)

Draco folds his arms across his chest and sits up straighter, not entirely enjoying the way she seems to be laughing at him and he has completely no idea what's going on. Somewhat indignantly—a little pouty, almost, he huffs, "Are you going to keep laughing at me all day like a madwoman or have you got any plans to actually tell me what you're talking about?"

And [Y/N] is going to explain—she really is about to—until she sees the look on Draco’s face again and she bursts out laughing, throwing her head back and grabbing at her ribs like there's a stitch in her side. Her words are barely coherent through her brays of laughter; only the words "oh, Merlin" and "bloody hilarious" can be made out.

Draco narrows his eyes at her, the sneer on his lips bordering on a sulky pout.

"I’m sorry," she says once she has regained control of her senses, the last of her giggles leaving her lips as she wipes actual tears away from the corner of her eye. "I’m sorry, it was just really funny because you kept—kept doing it and you didn't realize—"

"Realize what?"

Fanning her now flushed face, [Y/N] inhales deeply, shoulders rising and then falling as she fights and fights and fights to maintain her composure. Once she is sure she has, she opens her eyes to see that Draco is staring at her with his lips most definitely having settled into a moody frown. The sulky look on his face is only emphasized by the indignant way his arms are crossed over his chest.

"Oh, come on. Have I hurt your feelings?"

"No.” Draco says this as he wriggles a little in his seat so that her legs effectively fall off his lap.

She raises her eyebrows, an amused smile creeping up on her lips. He’s definitely a little hurt, and now [Y/N] feels a tiny bit guilty. "Well, I'm sorry," she says, tone still slightly playful as she scoots closer to him on the couch, nudging his side with her elbow. "It’s just.. have you ever realized that when you're not doing anything, you're always scowling?"

Draco frowns. "Scowling," he repeats.

"Yes," affirms [Y/N], but then another giggle betrays her so she quickly presses her lips into a thin line. "There! Like what you're doing right now, see, hold on a minute!"

And then she's up on her feet, looking around the common room in search of something as Draco sits there, unsure as to whether or not he should be offended.

A moment later [Y/N] flops back down on the couch next to him, shoulder bumping into his. "Here, look," she grins, shoving a mirror into his face. "See."

Draco, more than a little bewildered, scowls at the mirror. Alright—there's him—and what else is he supposed to be seeing, exactly?

She sets the mirror down on her lap and turns to face Draco, legs tucked underneath her. "I’m going to be very transparent with you and you have to promise me that we'll retain our friendship after this."

Draco starts to doubt whether or not he wants to hear her next words.

"See," she begins, her tone lilting (and it's a tell-tale sign that she's about to tease Draco, but he sits there anyway and waits for the wave to hit), "I couldn't help but notice that whenever you're—I don't know—doing absolutely nothing and just thinking—you're always, always sneering."

His brows knit together in the middle, although this time not out of confusion; now it's more out of contemplation as to whether or not he should take offense. He stares at [Y/N], nose scrunching unconsciously, and then tears his gaze away and lets out a little grumbling sound underneath his breath that sounds like "I don't see how that's a big deal".

[Y/N] shrugs and jabs his side playfully. “It’s not. I just found it cute, is all.”

At this, Draco looks up, eyebrows raised, and then suddenly his lips are splitting into a wide grin and he’s wriggling his brows at her. “So you find it attractive.”

“Not what I said.”

”But it’s what you meant.”

[Y/N] lets out a loud laugh and plops back down into her seat next to him, once more draping her legs across his lap. He lets her this time, now that he has recovered his pride.

[Y/N] lets out a loud laugh and plops back down into her seat next to him, once more draping her legs across his lap. He lets her this time, now that he has recovered his pride.

”Do I find the fact that you look like someone took a dump in your food attractive, you mean?”

“Well, do you?”

She rolls her eyes and picks up her book, shooting him a mysterious little grin that has Draco’s heart doing things he didn’t know it was capable of. “Maybe.”