The Best Night of my Life
Draco Malfoy lay in bed, tossing and turning. The only sound he could hear was the heavy breathing of the other boys in the dormitory – they had all fallen asleep hours ago. Looking at the clock, Draco saw that it was 3:00 am. Realising that he wasn't even tired, he knew he was never going to fall asleep at this rate. He pulled the covers off himself and padded silently out of the dormitory. A long, quiet walk through the castle would clear his mind of all these confusing thoughts.
Walking down the corridor from the dungeons, Draco pondered on the one thing he had been thinking about all night, the one thing that had kept him up all night for weeks and weeks: Harry Potter. The 'Boy Who Lived'. Draco smirked at this stupid nick name, but it wasn't with the normal malice, and he immediately sighed. The reason Harry Potter had been keeping him up all night was not with thoughts of hate. Oh no, thought Draco bitterly. This was something else entirely. He had finally admitted that he had a massive crush on his so-called enemy – Harry Potter.
Wandering aimlessly, Draco was deep in thought about Harry, and his feelings for him, not paying attention to where he was going. Little did he know that the subject of his thoughts was at this very moment in exactly the same frame of mind as Draco.
Harry got out of bed and sighed, yawning deeply. It was 3:00 am, and still he wasn't asleep. Cursing silently, he walked down to the common room, wondering what to do. He thought that maybe some fresh air might help clear his mind and calm him down, so he decided to go for a wander in the castle for a while.
He pushed the portrait open and wandered off, with no clear idea of where he was going. He was thinking of only one thing – Draco Malfoy. He just couldn't get that boy out of his mind – his shiny, white blond hair, his piercing grey eyes...Harry shook his head and blushed in the darkness. Just thinking about Draco had given him serious butterflies in his stomach. When had he started feeling like this? Harry found it difficult to put his finger on it; all he knew was that he fancied the hell off Draco Malfoy, and that he would be killed if he ever found out.
Harry stopped dead. He had just heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like footsteps. Before he had a chance to hide in the shadows, someone strode up to him and confronted him.
"Oh...it's you, Potter". There was no mistaking that cold drawl. He had stumbled across the one boy he wanted to talk to more than anyone; the one boy he could never talk to.
"Wh-what do you want, Malfoy?" Harry stammered, glad that Draco couldn't see him blushing in the darkness.
"Nothing in particular..." Draco muttered, sounding almost...embarrassed? "Why are you out of bed in the middle of the night, anyway?"
"The same reason you're out of bed, I'm sure. Because I couldn't sleep".
Draco didn't know what to say to that. They stood in an awkward silence for a minute until Harry plucked up the courage to say something that he had been wondering about for a long time.
"Are you...okay, Draco? It's just, you've been looking kind of down recently..." He trailed off into nothing, thinking he had crossed the line. Why had he called him 'Draco' out loud? Thinking that Draco would never answer him, he was shocked to hear Draco quietly reply.
"I'm fine; I guess...I've just had a lot on my mind recently". Draco had no idea why he was telling Harry this, why he wasn't keeping up his normal pretence of hating him with a passion. Maybe it was the surprise of finding Harry here, in the middle of the night, but he felt slightly more at ease than normal.
Feeling the tension in the air increase more with every second, Harry was about to ask what was up when he froze, dead. He looked sharply round at Draco, and saw his look of fear mirrored on Draco's face too.
"They must be around here somewhere, my sweet. I heard whispers..." There was no mistaking that oily voice. Filch was coming.
"Quick, in here!" Harry whispered frantically, dragging Draco into the nearest cupboard. Unfortunately, it happened to be the smallest cupboard he could possibly have chosen, and he became quickly aware that he was pressed embarrassingly close to Draco, with no room to move at all. His breath quickened, and Harry hoped Draco thought it was because he was scared.
Filch's footsteps became louder and louder until they were right outside the cupboard, and abruptly, they stopped. He was right next to them; nothing separated them but a small, suddenly flimsy-feeling door. Without noticing what he was doing, Harry threw his arms around Draco's waist and buried his head in his chest, too scared to move. He felt Draco hesitate, and then he slowly moved his arms around Harry and returned the hug, pulling him closer. This calmed him down considerably.
They both held their breath and listened closely. There was a moment of complete silence, where Harry thought his heart was beating so loud that Filch must definitely be able to hear it. Then, miraculously, Filch's footsteps moved on again, in the opposite direction. They were safe. They both let out a huge breath, and Harry collapsed in Draco's arms. There was another awkward pause, and neither of them knew quite what to say.
Harry became increasingly aware that his mouth was hovering only millimetres away from Draco's; he could feel his hot breath on his own mouth, drawing him in...Before he had any idea what he was doing, Harry closed the gap, pressing his lips against Draco's in a kiss he had been wanting for a very long time. Draco hesitated for a fraction of a second, before throwing himself into the kiss with all his force.
Sure, Draco thought, he may hate himself in the morning when he realised what he had done, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. Right now, Harry's lips were softly kneading his, and the feeling this gave him threw all other thoughts from his mind. He ran his fingers through Harry's wild, untamed hair and thought happily to himself that life didn't get much better than this; there was a certain thrill in making out with your enemy in a small dark cupboard in the middle of the night.
The same thoughts were running through Harry's mind as he pressed himself even closer to Draco, not wanting to let go, even though he was running out of air. Thank Merlin he had left his dormitory tonight; this was like a dream, except miles better, because Draco was really here, in his arms. He finally broke the kiss, and pressed his head into Draco's chest, grinning to himself. He had no idea what was going to happen next, what he was going to do in the morning, but one thing was crystal clear. This was by far the best night of his life.