Drarry Oneshots 2

Thermodynamic Equilibrium

Top!Harry

Bottom!Draco

Summary: Harry's far too hot. Draco's always cold. And somehow against all odds, together they create a perfect equilibrium.

Author: DorthyAnn ( on ao3)

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Harry sat up with a start, rubbing his eyes as the vestiges of a nightmare faded into nothing in his mind. He gasped faintly in the quiet, dark room, fighting to slow his breathing so he didn’t wake his dorm mates. He no longer woke up screaming. He had trained himself out of it somehow, hating the worried expressions Molly would give him when he stayed the summer there, hating the awkward, helpless ‘you alright, mate?’ from Ron, hating the hugs and talks from Hermione.

Harry pushed his blankets back and slipped out of the dorm he shared with Ron and Neville, making his way to the common room. The cold air was a balm on his overheated skin, cooling the sweat soaked through the back of his teeshirt until he felt like he could breathe again. 

Since the last battle, Harry constantly felt like he was overheating. It was as if coming back from the dead had put his body into overdrive. He was hungrier, ate more, and his skin was always too warm. And sometimes he had dreams of being a phoenix, bursting into flames with heat and fire prickling under his skin, making him something new and yet still the same. The healers said there was nothing wrong with him and nothing they could do except teach him stronger cooling charms and sent him on his way.

Harry stopped short at the doorway; someone was sitting in the common room. They were by the fire, which had been stoked high, filling the room with flickering yellow light but very little warmth. The eighth years had been moved to the third-floor corridor for the year, and the heating charms weren’t repaired during the rebuilding. They were weak at best, and nonexistent at worst, which was most of the time. 

Harry thought it was Ron or Ginny for a second but, once his eyes focused, he realised it was just the reflection of the fire off of white-blond hair.

Draco had pushed one end of the sofa right in front of the fireplace and sat on the edge of the plush violet cushion with his hands so close the fire it had to hurt. He stared at the fire blankly, looking through the flames without seeing them, occasional shivers wracking his body. Deep shadows of exhaustion ringed his eyes, just as they had every day since they had come back to school.

Harry sat down on the other side of the couch.

Draco’s whole body flinched, his hand going for his wand until he saw who it was and hesitated.

“Sorry,” Harry said.

Draco glared half-heartedly at Harry, his hands wending together in his lap, “Merlin Potter, can’t you just go to sleep like a normal person?”

“I sleep,” Harry said pushing his glasses up to rub his eyes.

Draco snorted. “When?” he said acidly.

“Between nightmares,” Harry said, irritably pulling off his glasses and wiping off the smudges that he had just made with the edge of his teeshirt, “When do you sleep, Draco?”

Draco frowned at the ‘Draco’, but Harry refused to use anything that had to do with their stupid childhood feud.

“Around three or four, if I’m lucky,” Draco said with surprising honesty.