Written as a Secret Santa fic for Catzi, atH4A (www.hogwarts ).

"Er…Harry?" Ron stopped him as they entered the Great Hall.

"Mmm…?" came the response.

"Don't look now, mate, but the Ferret's wearing robes nearly identical to yours." Ron pulled a face as if this were sacrilege.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Harry had to duck his head to hide his smirk. He had noticed, of course.

What Ron didn't know was that this was no mere coincidence. Harry had been seeing the Slytherin for several months now, and this night had been planned out to the smallest detail. Case in point, had the red-haired boy bothered to look more closely, he would have seen that their robes were not 'nearly identical', at all, but were, in fact, a matched set, right down to the tiny silver clasps down the front.

The robes had been Draco's idea, of course. The green silk would set off Harry's eyes, he said, and, naturally, the green and silver combination was the obvious choice for a Slytherin. He had assured Harry that none would even notice the matching robes until the final stage of their plan was put into place. It now appeared that he had been right.

The Great Hall had been decorated for this final feast before the Christmas holidays in grand fashion, as usual. Twelve huge trees lined the sides of the Hall, each lit with hundreds of real, living fairies. An enchanted snow, that never quite reached the tables or the floor, was falling softly from the fluffy white clouds that graced the enchanted ceiling.

Harry followed Ron to their usual seats at the Gryffindor table. As he took his seat, he glanced around him to ensure nobody nearby was paying him any mind, and sent a quick wink to the blond Slytherin to show all was going according to plan. Hermione joined them moments later, giving Harry an odd look as she noticed the direction of his gaze. She said nothing of it, however, as she hugged them both, wishing them a Happy Christmas, and the meal proceeded without further incident.

Without further incident, that is, until Hermione happened to glance in the direction of the Slytherin table near the end of the feast.

"Honestly! Can't he even give it a rest for one day?" she groused.

Though he already knew what to expect, Harry followed her gaze to see Draco making his way purposefully in their direction, patented smirk firmly in place. He came to a stop directly behind Harry, who turned to face him.

"Potter. It seems I find myself the victim of someone's practical joke. Apparently, I cannot rid myself of this horrid abomination," he indicated a bit of mistletoe hovering above his head and continued, "until I receive a kiss from my true love."

Harry had to keep himself from laughing again. Naturally, he knew all about the charmed mistletoe. He had charmed it there himself. This confrontation was all a part of their plan. They had rehearsed it many times.

"And why are you telling me this, exactly, Malfoy?" he replied.

"Scared, Potter?" Malfoy smirked.

"You wish," he replied, before standing and seizing the Slytherin's lips in a fiery kiss.

The hall became instantly silent, and they only broke apart at the sound of something, or, rather, someone, hitting the floor beside them. They looked down, and then grinned at each other. Ron had fainted.