A week late? XD Here's the Christmas fic I've been working on. :D

Disclaimer : It's now 2009 and I still do not show ownership to any of the characters.

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Under The Mistletoe

"Malfoy! Hey, Malfoy! What's wrong?" I have heard of those taunts and jeers all day. Every time they passed me in this bloody cold hallway it was always the same. What? You ask why I have stood my ground. You ask why I have not left. You ask why I take it all sitting down – in my case standing up and leaning on the cold wall. It is very easy, but I think for a git like you would not understand. It is because that crack-pot old headmaster – Albus Dumbledore, I swear I will get him someday. Father seems to have the same thoughts, too. – said that it would be "excellent" and "filled with holiday cheer" if we, the students, all get into the holiday cheer.

"So that is why, students, I have bewitched the mistletoes! One must watch one's step because if any – student, teacher included – were to step under the magical mistletoe, then you cannot take another step more. You must stay under it until someone comes to your rescue—" The candy-loving fool cleared his throat.

"—By rescue, I mean somebody must have to kiss you. Unless that is not the case then you will be left to stand in the halls or other different rooms. So heed my warning." With that his annoyingly twinkling blue eyes gazed over us. And he decided to do this bloody thing before we leave for our holiday breaks!

...And yes. That is why I have been standing here. And no, I refuse to kiss anyone. I refuse to kiss any lowlife, mudblood or just plain git. For the past five – bloody hell!? – Hours I have been standing on this damn cold hallway. I hate that acid-pop sucking coot! I will get you, mark my words, Dumbledore! It's just a matter of time before I turn seventeen! And trust me, if you don't die then I will personally Avada Kedavra-e you. I learned from the craziest Azkaban escapee, my auntie Bellatrix, after all.

Where am I going with this god-awful narration?

Well, stupid piece of parchment that I am currently writing on – on a slanting position, my ink bottle propped on my knee – I am waiting for some decent soul – indecent. Well, someone just plain beautiful and hot, I guess – to pass by. No, I will not kiss Pansy! Lord Voldemort only knows I stuck up with her just for show. Besides, she's cheated on me – Blaise. They're nice together. And she's ugly. Mother would've fainted if I brought her to the manor...okay. Mother did faint. It was a good thing father was out. Ah...I remember telling Pansy, "She's weak on the knees, mother is." And I asked one of our house elves to escort – via door – out.

Chasing that horrible event out of my head I gazed around some more, this magical quill connected to my thoughts. Now that I think about it, I've just bashed myself writing against the wall. Ah, Malfoy's really are smart. I decided to charm it, of course, so that it's connected to my thoughts and writes what I want it to right. Like now for example. Yes, you bloody quill, you will be of use for now but after this you will be disposed of. I will break you and then flush you down the toilet - - hey! Why have you stopped writing? Damn. I guess it's too afraid of my thoughts now. Well, back to writing personally...

"...Oi! You! Abbott!" An ugly, blonde Hufflepuff just passed me. She froze on the spot and slowly turned around. God. Stupid git. "Give me your quill or I will hex you when I get away from here." I demand of her and she quickly does so, giving me the quill. I hand her my broken one and she ran along. Stupid Hufflepuff. Can't even run with grace, they can't.

So yes, yes, good quill. I guess I better stop threatening it with mundane thoughts. Okay, where was I? Yes. 10 minutes has passed after I said "bloody hell! 5 hours!?" – okay! Wrote! Damn. Just cross the "said" you mental quill. Okay. Now, what was I saying before this junk contradicted me? Ah. Yes. I've stood here for a while now. It's getting colder. The wind just passed and blew my way and this coat couldn't get any thinner.

A group of Ravenclaw girls just passed my way and they all giggled. Funny how these Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart, they all seem to be quite idiotic to me. And then, seconds after them another group of girls past. This time they wore Slytherin robes, I could just hear pug-faced, bullfrog Pansy (An insult to bullfrogs everywhere). Her laugh is annoying, she's shrieking most of the time. She and her "posy" turned to stop as they neared me. I sneered at them, trying my very best not to crack.

Pansy whispered something to her friends and then stepped forward, a few feet from me. "Hey, Dray." She called, smirking. No. Ugly Pansy wants to kiss me? No. Not in the bloodiest of hells!

I put up my hands in an obvious effort to keep her away, the quill still scribbling madly on the parchment I have placed on the ledge of the window – thank Merlin I found a window. I didn't notice that earlier though... – I scowled at Pansy as she turned a shady red.

"Come on, Draco. It's just for today. Then you'll be out of there." Pansy said, gesturing at the mistletoe over my head. She still did not walk over to the boundary where she would be stuck with me, so maybe she respected my feelings. Okay. I just snorted at that. She's a two-timing wench.

"No thank you, Pansy." I said rather curtly, jerking my chin.

"Well...better be off. I guess you can wait for Professor Snape to come your way." She snickered at this and turned to her girl friends that did the same. As she passed me by, she curled her fingers and winked. I'm doing my very best right now not to look out the window and gag.

Somebody. Someone! Some decent student...I hate Dumbledore. I swear I will get him, like I swore a few paragraphs up.

I hear another set of footsteps, this time it was lighter. I refuse to open my eyes but I couldn't help myself. The snorting and the obvious attempts to control their laughter broke into me. It's that mudblood Granger and Weasel Bee. The Weasley was laughing like mad, punching the floor.

"Hahaha! M-M-Malf-f-foy!" He gasped, still laughing hard, the mudblood helping him up. He gripped at her arm, his other hand on his stomach as he gasped for breath, laughing harder. "Serves you right – ha ha –Malfoy!" Weasel Bee cried, pointing at me.

I hear that mudblood whisper something to him, the Weasel's laughter not drowning it out. "Come on, Ron. Come on." Obviously, she was afraid I'd hex them both while little Weasel Bee is laughing like mad. He laughed and pointed at me once more before getting dragged by Granger.

Alone. Again. With only the icy silence to penetrate my senses, the cold winter air to touch my skin, the solitary moment burning into me like---

"What's this?" I know that voice and I know that tone. What the hell is Potter doing out here? Well, seeing as his friends just passed then maybe he was after them. He rounded the hall and was apparently alone; he stopped a few feet away from me, his wand poking out of his bag.

"Get lost, Potter." I hiss at him, scowling. He seemed to be rather amused because those beautiful green eyes widened a fraction- - wait...did I just say (thought and the magicked quill wrote) 'beautiful green eyes'? No! That is not what I meant! What do you mean you can't erase it!? What? Brainless quill! Okay! Don't stop, damn! Just be reminded that I didn't say that and that you, insolent quill, did without my knowledge...Okay.

Back to the current situation.

Potter was looking at me and I feel the need to bring my coat closer, the air getting a little bit colder. He smirked, something very un-Potter-ish of him and waved a hand in the air. "Stuck under the mistletoe, Malfoy?" He said, taking a step. He looked at it and then at the invisible boundary line which was invisible and which he could not see but feel – weird, I know – and smirked rather wickedly.

"Haven't been stuck here the whole day, have you, Malfoy?" He took another step, obviously ruling out that there was such a boundary line.

I nod, "Yes, Potter. And it would certainly turn over if you get away from here." Curt was my tone and cold were my gray eyes. "Leave now Potter before I hex you." I threatened, groping for my wand and then pointing it at him. He makes no move to retrieve his own, he dropped his bag along with his wand inside it and his left hand curled into a fist. He'd resort to Muggle violence? Punch me? That's low, even for Potter.

"Come off it, Draco." He said mockingly. I freeze for a while, taking in what he said. He just addressed me by my first name.

"What did you call me?" Ignoring the knotty feeling in my stomach, I asked him that, though my eyes softened a bit, it was still a hard glare.

"You do have a first name, don't you? It's Draco, that's what I heard." Potter said off handedly, still mocking me. He took a few more steps closer.

"Shut up, Potter. No, wait. Shove off, Harry." The sound of his first name slipping from my lips was rather odd, yet it was...delightful, to say the least. No...What the bloody hell was that for? I did not just think that saying Har—no. No. Damn. Potter's first name was pleasurable. No. It was as if I'd been stuck in the gut with a knife. Knives, actually.

Harry moved closer, his hand still clenched into a fist. And then I felt that boundary expand as the idiot Potter took a few more steps, obviously thinking he could hit me and get away with it. He stopped short when he felt something strange around him – I knew because of his expression – and because he cursed slightly.

"What the hell?" He said, looking around and trying to back away but felt the force of the stupid, pointless magic Albus Crackpot Dumbledore had put.

"Enchantments." I told him plainly, leaning away as he makes elaborate hand signs, searching his pockets for what I assumed would be his wand.

"You left your wand in your bag, Harry." His name came naturally and he stopped and stared at me. He scowled and I scowled back.

"Brilliant! My wand in my bag and now I'm stuck with you!" He hissed, trying to back away from me. The quill still wrote, profusely, and seemed to be having the time of its petty writing-tool life as it recorded the things going on in its prescence.

I cross my hands and raise a brow, sneering at him. "Stupid, Saint Bloody Potter doesn't even know there was a line."

He seems to be taken aback because his furious expression fell. "So...to get out...we have to...y'know?" The idiot. Where was he going with this conversation? Wasn't he just mad? And how come he's bloody jumped to that (though right) conclusion. I notice a tinge of red in his cheeks as he wasn't so coherent with the words anymore.

I scoffed. I hate Saint Bloody Harry Potter.

"No. We don't have to, you git. We can just wait for a hell-be-damned professor to come save us."

"But, Draco, it's getting quite late. And the Holiday feast would be starting any minute now."

Bless him. He's hungry. "You worry about a bloody feast when I've been stuck here for five damn hours, Harry?" I said through gritted teeth.

He rubbed the back of his head and grinned sheepishly, laughing slightly. Wasn't this idiot just mad at me for getting stuck under here? He made to walk closer and I just felt the wall on my back. Damn. Nowhere to run. "What are you doing?" I hiss as he pulls me by the collar.

No. Bloody Potter isn't doing what I think he's doing! He can't be. His breath was close to my ear, the feeling sensual. "Come off it, Draco...at least we'd both be spared." And I could hear concealed amusement behind it as he pulled me closer. I yanked myself away and he just caught hold of my wrist, pulling me.

And then I slipped – stupid ink bottle. Harry still had a good hold of my wrist and then, instead of letting me fall and staining my great robes, he suspended me there for a while. His other hand on my back as he leaned forward, his hair falling but not covering those beautiful green eyes. I could feel my face heat up as he pressed his lips to mine.

No. What was he doing!? This is...this is...(embarrassing?)this isn't right! But somehow I can't find the force to break away. And after a few seconds I found myself kissing him back, he hauled me straighter and instead of pushing him away my fingers found his neck and hung there. His hand was still on the small of my back, his lips persuasive yet soft, and his free hand tangled in my hair.

The feeling was like heaven, if it even existed, and I felt as if it had lasted for an eternity. A blissful and beautiful eternity. But soon the lack of air came down upon us and we broke apart, his face flushed and mine as red, or redder. He didn't let go, though, and his hand travelled to mine where he ran his delicate fingers there. I shiver and he grinned, panting for air. He stepped away and then I finally was free of the bloody enchantment!

I quickly gathered my bag and he did the same, the parchment and quill floating behind me. He grinned at me, his cheeks still a bit red and then shrugged. "You're a decent kisser," He said.

"You're not too bad yourself." Why am I saying stupid things I don't even think of? Damn. But Harry soon blushed and he ran a hand through his messy black hair. "Well...yeah...that was to get us both out of it. And I pitied you, yeah, for standing under there for 5 hours...give or take."

"Thanks." I muttered quietly as I slung my bag on my shoulder. He shrugged again and waved, "Well, Happy Christmas, Malfoy." And walked off. He stopped before he reached the end of the hall and then turned back.

"What? You're not going down?" He said, raising a brow. My feet slowly find itself away to move and it took a few steps. Harry smiled, amused, and then reached out a hand for me to take. I blinked. What is this? Again?

"Come on, Draco." He said rather impatiently as I did so, stretching out my hand as well. His fingers found mine and caught them in a secure yet gentle lock. He twined his fingers with mine and blushed. Before my mind could work coherently again I leaned towards him and pecked his cheek and then pulled away, though kept our hands twined like so. He was fuddled for a moment before laughing. "Let's go then." Saint Potter...Saint Harry Potter.

I don't know why but after that incident Harry and I grew much closer. Maybe Crackpot Dumbledore's idea of holiday cheers wasn't that bad, at least I stole – wait. Harry stole the kiss from me. Oh well.


"Ron! Read this!" Hermione said, handing the parchment to Ron. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks slightly tinted with pink. "This happened three months ago, remember? When we caught Malfoy in the halls under the enchanted Mistletoe!" She said as Ron drew nearer. He read through it and his mouth fell open at the last part.

The redhead laughed, but not very hard, and slumped into a chair next to Hermione's. "So that explains the constant disappearances." He said, chuckling still.

"My, Malfoy's rather careless, don't you think? Laying this piece of parchment around...People might've read it!" Hermione said, distressed. Ron perked up and raised a brow.

"What? So were going to keep quiet?" He said. Hermione nodded solemnly.

"Bloody hell." Ron mumbled, tilting his head back and sighing.


Somewhere in the grounds under a cherry tree, Harry rolled off and got on all fours as his boyfriend groped around his bag. Draco was rather pale and as Harry crawled over to him to wrap him in his arms he felt the blond tense.

"What's wrong?" Harry murmured into his ear.

Draco looked around, still, horrified. "The parchment...Mistletoe...Kiss...Gone..."

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Meh. Not much, yeah? Oh well.

Happy (post) Holidays! :D