Detention (Drarry One-Shot)

“Wait ‘til my father hears about this! I can’t believe that out of all punishments that Flitwick could’ve given us, he gave us servant’s work!” Harry sighed once more as Draco Malfoy complained. They were cleaning the entire Great Hall, manually.

                Harry wasn’t bothered at all by the punishment. He was used to it. This was what his aunt and uncle gave him 7 years ago and it’s was a chore. Harry and Malfoy were in their temporarily 8th year to complete their education. It wasn’t bad for Harry, but what made it bad is that all students who choose to continue their education were to be crammed in a single house.

                Slytherins and Gryffindors were always making havoc in the house, resulting in Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs complaining. Slytherins couldn’t care less while Gryffindors have to pay for what they and the Slytherins did. But now, Professor Flitwick is getting tired of their fights. Which is why he gave detention to the leaders of the two houses, Potter and Malfoy.

                As he wiped the Gryffindor table once more, he collapsed on a bench. It was a good thing he wasn’t wearing his cloak or he would’ve made it a handkerchief from all the sweat he was producing. Harry’s sleeves were already rolled up and the top two buttons were open, but that didn’t change the fact that it was very hot in the Hall.

                As he couldn’t take it anymore, he loosened his Gryffindor-colored tie. Air entered inside his shirt some more, but still not enough. Harry finally thought it would be best if he removed the shirt.

                He was oblivious to the cautious gaze of the Slytherin, who was sitting on his house’s table. Malfoy’s grey eyes raked over Harry’s body as Harry’s back was turned against him, in the process of removing his shirt. Any second now, he’ll see Harry’s bare back…

                Malfoy internally groaned as he saw Harry wearing a plain white t shirt just under his button up one. It’s no wonder he’s sweating heavily, Malfoy thought.

                His raven black hair was damp from all the sweat. His arms were sticky too and he panted for air whenever he runs his hand through his hair or swipes the sweat from his forehead or when he sits down whenever he continues to clean. Malfoy was also sweating heavily, but he rather much be soaked than strip in front of Harry. Malfoy knew Harry wouldn’t watch; a thought that heavily saddens him.

                If only he knew.

                Harry started to clean once more while Malfoy just sat there, watching his movements. Never would he thought that he’ll be in love with his mortal enemy. But who wouldn’t? Who wouldn’t love his enemy after saving him from being burned by a cursed fire that wouldn’t stop unless stopped by the caster? Well, Malfoy thought, V-V-Voldemort, of course.

                “Malfoy, can you wipe the Hufflepuff table?” Harry asked, even though he knew Malfoy would decline, “I’ll wipe the Ravenclaw so that we’ll be finished earlier.”

                Malfoy was just about to open his mouth to decline, until he realized Harry knew he would. Wanting to get a reaction from his favorite enemy/actual love of his life, he stood up, grabbed a clean washcloth, went to the Hufflepuff table and started to wipe.

                Harry was a bit surprised that he didn’t hear the Slytherin complain. He turned his head to the Slytherin table to shout at a normal rate, since he was too tired to project a loud voice. He, however, froze as he saw that the Slytherin wasn’t there.