Author's Notes: I stumbled on the poem "All Because You Kissed Me Good Night" by Sandy Rolstan while rummaging through old university notes. I had forgotten how charming it is. Thanks to my freshman English Lit professor for providing me a copy, and for making four years of college worth it.
Dedication: This fic is for Tricia and Rain (for the stalking), for Arca (you're such a swell beta), and for Chocolat Elf (who asked for PG-13).
All Because You Kissed Me Good Night
“What the hell must I do to get a good night’s sleep in this place?”
Irritably, Draco Malfoy shoved the Slytherin portrait door open and stormed out into the hallway, startling the banshee awake. The disturbed painting muttered a rude word before Draco was out of earshot but the Slytherin chose to let it pass. In a good day he would have come up with a comeback, but now he was far too annoyed to care.
Unable to sleep for three nights in a row, he had tried everything from warm baths to hot milk to cure his insomnia. The bout of sleeplessness had started quite suddenly and he found himself unable to concentrate in his classes during the past days. He was often bone-tired at the end of the day but, to his growing frustration, sleep had managed to elude him successfully. Now it was two o’clock in the morning and he was out of ideas. Instead of listening to Goyle snore the tune of the entire Hogwarts’ theme once more, Draco decided to walk it off.
He pulled his cloak around him to protect his pajama-clad body from the chill and strolled off to the castle’s East Wing. He passed numerous empty classrooms, their dark doorways staring vacantly as his feet padded silently on the stone floor. The moon shone eerily through the misted windows, casting long shadows on the halls. But Draco didn’t mind. He had been raised in a Manor that could easily rival the size and obscurity of the school. And often, he found the blank darkness comforting.
“Numbing,” he added to his train of thought. His voice echoed faintly through the hall. Smiling inwardly, he decided not to make more noise lest he awaken the teachers, or worse, Filch.
And then he heard it. As soft as a whisper. But quite unmistakable to one as astute as Draco: the shuffle of human feet not far from him.
Draco stiffened, instantly alert. If it was Filch, a teacher, or even a prefect, he’d surely get detention from walking around after curfew.
A window swung open and slammed into the wall with a crash. Alarmed, Draco nearly scuttled off in fright. But he managed to control himself in time. It’s only the wind.
“Who’s there?” Draco blurted out. Thoroughly spooked, he no longer cared if he’d get detention. He’d rather know for certain whether the thing standing a few meters away was harmless. Otherwise, he’d be hightailing out of here.
He heard a groan. A dark form moved forward slightly into the light, shook, and slowly slid to the floor, face-down. Draco heard the unmistakable clink of metal and the sound of glass breaking on the floor near his feet.
He looked down. Glasses. Broken glasses. Glasses with round frames. Like the ones worn by—
“Potter.” Draco peered at the prostate lump. “Is that you?”
The head lifted slightly as green eyes looked blearily at him.
“Ish dis the way to Hogwartshhh?”
Blonde eyebrows arched up in response. “Why, you’re smashed!”
Harry’s head plopped back on the floor. In a few moments, Draco heard soft snores coming from that direction. The blonde stood there, undecided. Should he leave this Gryffindor lying here for everyone to see in the morning? Well, it would certainly serve him right. The Great Harry Potter found indecently smashed after carousing the night away well after curfew hours. It was the opportunity Draco had been waiting for.
A low giggle floated up from the floor. Draco looked down. The stone surface looked cold and uninviting. His own feet were starting to freeze.
“Oh, what the heck…” Sighing resignedly, he picked up the broken glasses. Luckily, he had his wand with him. “Oculus Reparo.”
He bent down and whispered, “You owe me big for this, Potter. Unfortunately, you probably won’t remember. But I suppose it’s just as well.”
He heaved Harry into an upright position and supported the unconscious boy with his arms. Grumbling under his breath, Draco dragged Harry Potter all the way to the Gryffindor Tower while trying to make as little noise as possible.
Draco’s arms were starting to ache by the time he caught sight of the Fat Lady’s portrait. He shifted Harry to his other side as he carried the Gryffindor’s weight the last few steps to the portrait hole. He dropped the dark-haired boy unceremoniously at the foot of the painting.
“Potter, I don’t know the password so I guess I’ll just have to leave you here.”
The green eyes fluttered open with confusion. Full pink lips parted as Harry tried to get some words out.
“What did you say?” Draco crouched down, eye to eye with Harry.
“I can’t see,” Harry croaked.
“Oh yes, the glasses. I almost forgot.” He took the newly-repaired pair of glasses and moved to put them on Harry’s face. At the last moment, Draco stopped. Potter would recognize him. He folded the glasses and put them in the boy’s robe pocket. “Sorry, can’t risk it right now.”
Wide green eyes blinked owlishly back. Then Harry did something unexpected. He smiled. The bow-shaped lips parted to reveal a row of white teeth. Dimples appeared on the apple cheeks as the corners of his eyes crinkled becomingly.
“Who are you?”
It’s me, Draco.. The answer was merely thought, not said. Because, for some inexplicable reason, Draco Malfoy swiftly lost his ability to speak. He blinked back, entranced.
Maybe it was the smile, or the eyes that glinted madly at him. Or maybe it was the heady fumes of alcohol that swirled in the air, making him dizzy. Whatever the cause, there must have been something that influenced his mind. For Draco suddenly felt the strange compulsion to kiss those lips.
He sighed. “You know, Potter, you’re too pretty for your own good.”
He leaned forward, his brain lulled by his senses. He closed his eyes in bliss as their lips met, delicately touching. He needed to taste, to own. Forgetting all inhibitions, Draco wound his fingers into the dark hair as he deepened the kiss, wanting more. Heated lips slid over a sensitive throat as Harry moaned in delight.
That single word woke him up. He stopped, lifting his mouth from the flushed skin. Harry was looking at him, eyes sleepy with desire.
Oh Lord! What had he done?
Draco fled, leaving the baffled boy to await dawn alone.
“Wh… what?” Harry Potter squinted as a sharp pain threatened to split his head in half. “Oooww… what happened?”
“How should I know? You’re the one who disappeared from Sirius’ birthday party early last night. The rest of us were far too smashed to look for you.” Ron took the glasses peeking out of Harry’s pocket and handed them to his best friend. “How did you get home?”
“I have no idea,” Harry answered as he put the glasses on. He pushed himself up with effort, feeling his back muscles contract in agony. “Ouch… I’m all stiff!”
“Well if you spent the night in that position then it’s a wonder that you’re still moving.” Hermione’s lips twitched as she tried not to smile. “Come. You better clean yourself up. It’s almost time for breakfast.”
“Fine.” Harry grinned faintly and stumbled into the common room. Cursing his hangover, he walked unsteadily to the showers. A visit to Madame Pomfrey was definitely in order.
After dressing, Harry’s forehead knitted slightly as he noticed a mark on his cheek while looking at the mirror. His fingers moved downward to a similar spot marring his pale throat. He licked his swollen lips, worried. Was it a prospective zit?
“Dear, that’s a hickey,” his mirror wheezed.
“Nonsense,” Harry replied hotly. “I don’t remember kissing anyone last night. In fact, I…”
He had a sudden vision of warm lips kissing him passionately as fingers pulled at his hair. Harry shook his head, trying to clear it up. What exactly happened last night? The last thing he could remember was walking through the door of Remus and Sirius’ Hogsmeade cottage and walking unsteadily on the grass path. Did he meet someone on the way to Hogwarts?
Worried, Harry put down his comb and walked out of the bedroom. Maybe he’d remember more if he ate something.
Draco brushed his blonde hair back behind his ears and shoved another forkful of pancakes into his mouth. He hardly felt hungry but if he didn’t eat anything he’d probably sleep again during Transfiguration and upset The Gargoyle even further. He had spent another sleepless night tossing and turning around his bed thanks to the Gryffindor that was peacefully seating across the room. He could still feel those lips under his own. Harry’s skin was so soft—smooth like the surface of flowers.
Okay, stop it now, Draco! You can daydream later when you’re alone. He chided himself. He had turned into a cheesy idiot in the space of a few hours. But the kiss was definitely worth it.
Uneasily, Draco glanced at the Gryffindor table. Harry sat beside the Weasel. He was quiet throughout breakfast, barely participating in the table conversation. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something. The Mudblood faced him and said something that Harry didn’t seem to hear. She repeated her question with no success. Finally, she smacked Harry’s shoulder lightly, startling the green-eyed boy.
Maybe he remembered last night. Some drunks act uncontrolled but are actually very much aware of the world around them. Maybe Harry was one of those people.
Draco fervently hoped that he was wrong.
You’re too pretty for your own good.
The line had been spinning around his head the whole morning. He could almost hear the voice whispering. Husky. Tempting.
You’re too pretty…
Who said those words?
…too pretty for your own good.
Did the same person kiss him last night? Were the weird spots on his neck and cheek kiss marks left by that person?
He closed his eyes, tracing a finger around his reddened lips, slowly dipping it to his throat. He could almost remember the sensation of someone‘s tongue following the same path, kissing and biting at will. He sighed involuntarily.
“Harry! What’s the matter with you?” Ron whispered, breaking his reverie.
“Nothing. I’m just tired,” he muttered, checking to see if Professor Flitwick noticed anything amiss. Luckily, the tiny Professor was busy demonstrating a charm.
“Well, you better pull yourself together. This is a particularly difficult spell,” Hermione reminded him.
Harry remained silent throughout the class, trying to pay attention. But it was all lost on him. He had a particularly difficult memory of his own to recover.
After class, he followed Hermione and Ron out of the classroom. He pulled his Transfiguration textbook out of his bag and turned left at the corridor.
“Hey, you two!” he called out, grinning. “Transfiguration’s this way, or have you forgotten?”
Hermione and Ron turned and merely stared at him, mystified. Concerned, Hermione took a step towards him.
“Harry, today’s Tuesday. We have the afternoon free, remember? We won’t have Transfiguration ‘til tomorrow.”
“Tuesday?” Harry repeated weakly. “I didn’t realize…”
Ron nodded. “Is there something wrong, Harry? You’ve been distracted the whole day. Did the headache potion work?”
“The headache potion worked just fine.” He touched his forehead. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m still— Hey!”
A passing group of Slytherins jostled Harry’s arm, causing him to drop the textbook. Hermione picked it up and scowled.
“Watch it, Malfoy!”
“Filthy Mudblood.” Draco turned to Harry, sneering. “Why, Potter… Too pretty to pick up your own book?”
Harry’s head spun.
You’re too pretty for your own good.
Time stood still as the world tilted beneath his feet, spinning him around ‘til he saw only one thing. One person.
“It was you!”
Draco’s grey eyes widened. He stepped back in panic.
“What? I didn’t do anything.”
Harry stepped forward, closing the space between them as the other students watched them, perplexed.
“No, I’m sure. It was you last night!”
Draco turned and ran as fast as he could, trying to put as much space between him and Harry as possible. He ran into a storage room and closed the door after him, only to find it blocked by Harry. The Gryffindor had chased him all the way to where he was right now.
Harry pushed him inside and closed the door behind him as he entered. Draco backed against the wall, wishing that a portal would magically open and swallow him, taking him away from this embarrassing situation. Harry was looking at him steadily, breathing hard from the chase. Draco stiffened and raised his chin. If he was going down, then he’d do so with dignity.
“What do you want, Potter?”
“Just tell me you were the one who helped me last night.”
“So what if I did?”
“Well…” The green eyes looked down, suddenly shy. “Did you kiss me?”
He paused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“But you did. I know you did.” He stepped closer to Draco, causing the blonde to stiffen even further. “I remember what you said. And your kiss. I remember your kiss.”
Draco closed his eyes, not even bothering to deny it. He was trapped. He waited for the censure. When it didn’t come, he hesitantly glanced at the other boy.
“You… you’re not mad?”
“Well,” Harry’s brow furrowed as he raised his eyes to think. “I think I was pretty helpless at the time so I have all the right to accuse you of taking advantage of the handicapped.”
“You were drunk, not blind, deaf, or lame.” Draco crossed his arms. “What is the point of this conversation?”
“If you don’t want me to complain to the proper authorities… then you need to do something for me.”
Blackmail. So that was it. Draco suppressed the urge to punch Harry in the face. Why did he ever think of him as pretty? He shouldn’t have kissed the bastard. Damn his raging hormones.
“What do you want?” He asked coldly. He’d finish what he started and swear to the heavens that he shall stay away from this scheming Gryffindor in the future. “A favor? Money?”
Harry laughed softly. “I don’t need money.”
“A favor then?”
“Yes. If you would be so kind to oblige.”
“Well it doesn’t look like I have a choice, do I?” Draco said sarcastically. “Now, tell me, what is it?”
“It’s quite simple, actually.” Harry paused, took a deep breath, and continued. “I want you to kiss me again.”
“What?” Draco stared at him, flabbergasted. Was Harry off his knockers?
“I want you to kiss me.” Harry smiled.
“But… but, why?” Draco spluttered.
“It’s really unfair. You remember every detail while I just recovered fragments of the memory. It seemed like a pretty bad thing to forget so I want you to kiss me exactly the way you did last night.”
Draco looked at Harry with doubt. The boy actually seemed to be serious about this whole crazy thing.
Harry blinked his green eyes at him. “Well, I’m waiting. Don’t you know how to kiss?”
Ha! That did it. Pushing his sleeves back with a flourish, Draco reached out and pulled Harry to him. Their lips met with a sigh. Harry’s scent wrapped around Draco, inviting the Slytherin to pull him closer, taste him better. His hand kneaded the back of Harry’s neck softly as they kissed, their bodies melding together.
After many interminable minutes, they drew apart, lips puffy and sated. Harry looked at him with wonder.
“Wow?” Draco’s brow rose.
“That was bloody amazing.”
“Hmmm… I agree. You’re not so bad yourself.”
“Would you mind terribly if…”
“If I ask you to do that again?”
He drew Harry into his arms and repeated their delightful activity, with a little change here and there. Suffice to say, Harry was visibly more than satisfied afterwards.
So they did it again.
Ron knocked on the door.
“Harry?” He turned to Hermione. “How long do you think are they going to stay there?”
“Oh, probably the whole day.” Surprisingly, this came from Crabbe, who was looking at the Gryffindors without his normal scowl for the first time ever.
“You think so?”
So, by mutual agreement, the Gryffindors and Slytherins walked away from the door in one group.
“Maybe he’ll finally get to sleep at night,” Goyle said aloud.
Hermione tittered. “I wouldn’t count on it.”
I climbed the door and opened the stairs,
Said my pajamas and put on my prayers,
Then turned off the bed and crawled into the light--
All because you kissed me good night
-- All Because You Kissed Me Good Night, by Sandy Rolstan
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