Drarry Oneshots 2

les oiseaux volent à minuit

"Have a happy Christmas, Harry," she says softly.

The door makes a soft click as it shuts behind her.

Four for a boy

Blaise presses Draco against the wall, panting. Draco leans forward and Blaise obligingly kisses him hard, almost like he's trying to bruise Draco's mouth. Draco fights against him, trying to regain dominance, but Blaise has always been the stronger of the two of them, and Draco fails in his attempt. He gives up the fight in favor of digging his nails into Blaise's shoulders, surely leaving imprints. Blaise doesn't seem to care, though, as he's moved from Draco's mouth to his throat, surely leaving a mark on the pale skin there.

It's fucking perfect.

Draco tips his head back, gasping for air as Blaise presses his hips hard into Draco's, grinding against him with the surety of someone who's done this before. Draco's eyes roll back as the friction becomes overwhelming, and Blaise groans into the hollow of Draco's throat.

It's almost embarrassing how fast Draco comes, but seeing as Blaise does only a few seconds later, he really can't be bothered enough to care. Blaise presses three lazy kisses along Draco's jaw before pulling back and releasing Draco's shoulders.

The boy winks and picks his shirt up off the floor before leaving the room, and self-loathing settles in quickly, as it always does after Draco's encounters with boys.

He remembers being thirteen and telling his father he thinks Harry Potter is beautiful, and his father had exploded.

Boys are not beautiful!

Draco picks up his shirt and puts it on.

A Malfoy does not find men attractive!

He looks in the mirror, combing his fingers through his hair until it looks normal again.

You will marry a woman if it is the last thing I have you do!

He sighs when he sees the mark forming on his neck.

And under no circumstances will you have anything to do with the Potter boy!

He opens the drawer to see the makeup Pansy had put there for him; color corrector, concealer, powder.

You'd best get those thoughts out of your head right now, Draco, or I will beat them out of you.

When he looks in the mirror and looks exactly as he had before Blaise had brought him here, Draco leaves the room.

No son of mine will be a faggot.

Five for silver

Malfoy's eyes aren't grey, Harry decides as he looks down at the boy bleeding on the floor.

He kneels next to him, gripping Malfoy's hand as blood pools around the boy and wide not-grey eyes stare at Harry in horror as Malfoy chokes over his own breath.

Harry is fairly certain he's chanting something, and it takes a moment to realize the words I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry are spilling off of his own lips.

He knows he could lift Malfoy's sleeve up right now, see if he has the Mark, but the thought barely crosses his mind. He doesn't care if Malfoy is a Death Eater, he doesn't care if the blonde tried to Crucio him, none of that matters. All that matters is that Draco Malfoy doesn't die right now.

Malfoy is trying to choke out words, and Harry can barely hear them when he finally gets them out.

"It's okay."