Drarry One Shots

The Courting

But Hermione was shaking her head. "I can't believe I didn't figure that out - Cho is the prettiest girl in her year!" 

Harry wondered if the potion fumes had gotten to her. "What are you talking about?"

Hermione looked at him with pity. "Harry, do you know what we're brewing?" 

Harry threw his hands up in the air. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Keep mincing the leaves, I need them soon," she waited for him to do as told before she continued, "we're brewing amortentia. Ring any bells?" Harry gave her a blank look. Hermione sighed and looked up to the ceiling. 

"It's a love potion, Harry. The smell is different for everyone, according to what attracts them." She looked at him expectantly. Harry stared at her some more. When she didn't say anything, he sighed. 

"So?" 

"So?" Hermione asked him. "You just said the room smelled like Malfoy's cologne! I don't even think he wears cologne! How thic-"

The knife made a clanging sound on the cutting board as Harry dropped it. Hermione cut herself off. "Harry?"

Harry was shaking his head erratically. "That's impossible, Hermione. There is no way! He's stupid and arrogant and vicious and-ow!" Harry rubbed the back of his head where Hermione had smacked him. 

"Can you hold yourself together for the next twenty minutes of class and have your crisis where it doesn't affect my grade?" 

Glaring, Harry minced the bloomshed leaves. He wasn't having a crisis. 

~~~

"I heard you had a crisis in potions, Potter." 

If I run I don't have to have this conversation. 

"Potter?"

Cringing, Harry turned. He gripped his bag strap with both hands like a lifeline. 

Malfoy stood a few feet away from him, a calm look on his face, though his knuckles were white on his textbook. Malfoy had calmed this year, he thought. He didn't wear his hair slicked back, and he was less pointy than he had been. Harry also thought he'd grown quite a bit over the summer. Not that he noticed, of course. Malfoy was staring had him. Harry was able to see his eyes quite well from here, they hadn't been that blue before, had they?

Harry realized he hadn't said anything. He averted his eyes. "What, Malfoy? How did you even hear about that?"

"Theo was sitting behind you. He overheard and told me after class." 

Harry groaned, smacking his own forehead. "And what about it? It doesn't matter."

When Malfoy didn't say anything, he looked up. Malfoy was looking at the ground and seemed... fidgety. Harry had already embarrassed himself enough today, and he didn't need Hermione to tell him what Malfoy was going to say. 

"Look, I need to write an essay-"

"You smell like broompolish," Malfoy blurted, "the maple one the school uses. I don't know why, I don't think you polish your firebolt very often." 

Harry stopped in his tracks. "Where are you going with this? Going to call me a heathen because I smell like I don't shower after Quidditch matches?" Harry swallowed. He had a catch in his throat. No way he was about to get emotional over this. He had bigger issues to cry about. 

"I couldn't place it until you walked in. I had been trying to figure out what the smell was for at least ten minutes. But I should have realized sooner, I think. The realization didn't come as a shock, as it did for you."