Harry Potter oneshots

Harry Potter Can't Sleep (and Neither Can Draco Malfoy)

"Malfoy."
"Malfoy."
"Malfoy."
Draco is unwillingly pulled into consciousness by an insistent prodding in his left arm. He lifts his eyelids lazily, letting the world slowly come into focus. It's dark. Very dark. Why is he waking?
"Ouch." Oh yeah, that's why. "What are you doing?" Draco mumbles as another jab is directed at his arm.
"Fuck off, Malfoy."
"What?" Draco blinks rapidly, his eyes still unfocused. He recognises the voice though. "Potter?" Why is Potter waking him?
"Get up." Orders Potter's cruel voice.
Draco rolls over, burying his head in the pillow. "Don't want to."
"Fucking hell, Malfoy."
The covers are ripped from Draco's body exposing him to the chilly air. He whips his head back to face Potter, unfortunately now instantly awake. "What do you think you are doing?" He demands.
"Get out of my bed."
"Your bed?" Draco looks at Potter. Then looks around. He looks at the four poster bed in the corner of the room by the window. His bed. Ah. He looks back to Potter. Shit. Draco's up in a flash, scrambling over to his corner and hiding himself under the covers, hoping this is all a bad dream. How mortifying to be caught sleeping in Harry Potter's bed! He'll never been able to show his face again. He'll have to – wait. He was caught sleeping in Harry Potter's bed. Sleeping.
And that's when Draco realises it. He's just had the deepest sleep he's had in a long time, and he's had it in Harry Potter's bed. Harry Potter's soft, warm, wonderful smelling bed. Fuck. Fuck.

Rustle. Rustle. Sigh. Rustle. Harry's dreams of a Malfoy-less sleep have been spat on, wadded up and thrown into the trash. Now, not only is Malfoy making unnecessary noise in his own bed, but he's also left traces of himself in Harry's bed. Spearmint. Ink. Soap. It's not half bad of course. It might even be pleasant if Harry didn't know it was Malfoy's scent. All over his pillow. How is Harry supposed to sleep now?
Better question: why was Malfoy sleeping in Harry's bed in the first place? From Malfoy's reaction to Harry awaking him, he had clearly found himself in Harry's bed accidentally. No mystery there. But why, no how, was Malfoy sleeping? He had been so still, so peaceful, so deeply asleep. For Malfoy, it was unheard of. Why couldn't he sleep like that in his own bed? It would make Harry's nights so much easier.
Harry rolls over into his pillow, which has the unfortunate consequence of heightening Malfoy's scent. Harry resigns himself to the fact that he can't escape it. Spearmint. Ink. Soap. He's actually starting to like it. Merlin, he could fall asleep to this. Rustle. Or not.

Draco is out of his bed at sunrise. He hasn't slept a wink since returning to his own bed, but he still feels more rested than he can ever remember. It's terrifying. Potter's bed did that. Draco walks the quiet castle corridors, pacing. How could sleep allude him for so long and then present itself in the most unlikeliest of places? The bed of his arch...no, of his ex-arch-enemy. Because they're not enemies anymore. How can they be? Potter saved Draco's life. The war's over and they're finally both on the same side. Now, they're simply nothing to each other.
And to be caught by Potter? It's absolutely humiliating. He'll never be able to face him again. He certainly won't be going near Potter's bed again. And yet, if Potter's bed is the key to sleep...no. Draco can't think like that. It has got to be a coincidence. There's nothing special about Potter's bed, and certainly nothing special about Potter. Draco's just getting better, that's all. His insomnia is finally weaning, and Draco can start to reclaim his life.
Another restless night in his own bed says otherwise. He's going to have to take matters into his own hands.

Malfoy has been avoiding Harry since the incident two nights ago, which suits Harry quite nicely actually. He may be enjoying the scent Malfoy left behind, which still lingers faintly, but it doesn't mean he has lost any of his animosity to the dickhead. He only wishes that Malfoy could find somewhere to go to avoid him at night as well, because Harry is about to lose it.
Last night, Malfoy was in and out of bed six times, six! Harry knows because he was awoken every single time by the creak of Malfoy's bed, by the unmuffled footsteps, by the light peeking under the bathroom door. He put up with it like every night before it, holding his jaw tight and his knuckles clenched, but there's only so much he can take. Only so many disruptive nights before he snaps.
Tonight, he enters the dormitory early, hoping to get some sleep before Malfoy turns in. Malfoy's always late to get in bed. It's Harry's only opportunity. Except, that would be too good to be true, because Malfoy's already at his own bed, fiddling with his pillow. He looks up sharply as Harry enters, his face reddening, his expression startled. Harry stares at him a moment longer, trying to ascertain the reason for Malfoy's odd behaviour. When nothing obvious is forthcoming, Harry drops eye contact and sighs. So much for getting in some sleep.
Harry heads to his bed anyway. He's tired. Perhaps by some miracle Malfoy will go away and leave him alone. He sinks into his bed and lets the softness embrace him. He breathes in without thinking, eagerly anticipating the scent he's gotten accustomed to over the last two nights. Spearmint. It's strong tonight. Ink. Much stronger. Soap. It's all encompassing. Before Harry can question it, he's fast asleep.