Mistletoe Magic [Harry/Draco, PG]
Title: Mistletoe Magic
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1500
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco
Summary: George was a dead man. This thought crossed Harry's mind as he found himself trapped by the latest Weasley Wizarding Wheeze. With none other than Draco Malfoy.
Challenge: Written for enchanted_jae's Monthly Drabble Challenge #70 - winter/holiday plants. Also meets dracoharry100's prompt #6 - mistletoe. And way, way back, early this year, faithwood asked for KISSING.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Mistletoe Magic
"What do you expect, Potter?" Malfoy asked, paces ahead of Harry and picking up speed.
"Oh, I don't know," Harry said, struggling to keep up, irritated that Malfoy continued to walk away from him. "Maybe a thank you?"
Malfoy snorted, stopped dead in his tracks, and whirled around to face Harry. The portraits stopped their chattering to listen. "Thank you?" he screeched. "For what?"
Harry's hands balled into fists. He barely resisted the urge to punch the git. "It's customary to thank someone when they give you something."
"It was mine to begin with!" Malfoy yelled before he turned his back to Harry and, in a swirl of robes reminiscent of Snape, marched towards the Great Hall.
Harry caught up to him and grabbed his arm. "Fine," he said. Malfoy did have a point after all. But Harry had won the wand and - if Ollivander had been right, and given the outcome of the war, Harry didn't doubt that he had been - it had changed its allegiance. Harry could just have easily have kept it. "It was yours, but I won it from you."
"I won't even dignify that with an argument." Malfoy pulled his arm free. "Perhaps, had you returned my property the next day, the next week, or even the next month, I would have offered you a word of thanks." He stepped towards Harry and leaned in. "But it's been over seven months. I don't owe you a damned thing." He stormed away again.
He made a good case, Harry reluctantly admitted to himself. But the Aurors had taken Malfoy's wand as evidence, and Harry had only just got it back before returning to school. And since then ... well, they weren't exactly chums. Harry had waited for an opportune moment to present itself, but when one hadn't, he'd finally returned it to Malfoy yesterday. The git had snatched it, said, "It's about fucking time," and stormed off. Much like he was doing now.
Harry caught up to him again. "Malfoy!" He reached for Malfoy's shoulder as they crossed the threshold of the Great Hall, then stopped. "What the --?"
Malfoy looked as perplexed as Harry felt. Something - an invisible barrier of some sort - blocked their entrance to the room. Harry backed up to find himself blocked from leaving as well.
"Fuck me," Malfoy groaned.
Harry brushed aside the image those words conjured. "Excuse me?"
Malfoy pressed fingers to the bridge of his nose, as though willing himself to remain calm. "Mistletoe."
Harry looked up in horror. Sure enough, above them hung mistletoe. Then his gaze met the sea of faces watching them, a mixture of amusement and confusion. "Fuck me," he said, echoing Malfoy's words.
"Fortunately, that won't be necessary," Malfoy said. Harry's face flushed. "However ..."
Harry's eyes widened. "No," he whispered, shaking his head and stepping away from Malfoy as much as the barrier would allow. "No, no, no."
Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Harry, seemed to consider him for a moment, then said, "Surely you've seen this mistletoe at work this past week. Apparently it doesn't take no for an answer."
Harry had indeed seen it at work, and he was going to kill George the next time he saw him. A Weasley Wizarding Wheeze product, the mistletoe was enchanted. When two people walked under it together, they became trapped until they kissed. Harry had watched several pairs attempt to break the spell in other ways, but a kiss seemed to be the only solution. Not even the teachers had worked out a counter-spell yet. It had been used to great amusement all week - ever since last weekend's Hogsmeade trip. Even Harry had found himself chuckling at the resulting antics. And until this morning, Harry had managed to avoid the trap himself.
His heart began to race. After all, much to his own dismay, Harry had imagined this moment before. In his bed, curtains drawn, away from prying eyes, his mind had conjured images of the two of them caught this way. Several times. Only none of those times involved most of the school looking on. A noise, sounding embarrassingly like a whimper, escaped his throat.
Malfoy stalked towards Harry and leaned in. "What's the matter, Potter, scared?" He smirked. "Because you look scared."
Yes. Fuck, yes. Scared shitless. Scared that everyone would see through Harry's mask, would figure out what he'd been thinking, what he was feeling. Worse yet, he was scared that Malfoy would know. Harry did his best to bury those feelings and glared. "You wish." Then he launched himself forward and pressed his tightly closed lips against Malfoy's. And immediately drew back.
Malfoy scowled at him then tried to move into the room at the same time as Harry. Only to be stopped by the still-holding-strong barrier. Malfoy wiped his arm across his mouth in disgust. "Is that the best you can do?" he taunted. "Even the mistletoe didn't register that as a kiss."
Harry couldn't argue, really. It was more of a push than anything, one that just happened to be executed with lips rather than hands.
"Who would have thought after sixth year, with you and the Weaselette snogging all over the castle," he continued, now in a lower voice that only reached Harry, "that you couldn't even kiss." He sneered. "I guess it was all the practice she got in before you; all you had to do was follow her lead. Poor, sad Potter. Can't even --"
Harry took a step forward, seized the front of Malfoy's robes in his fist, and pulled him down into a bruising kiss. If only to shut him up. All fear had scattered as his humiliation and rage took over. He couldn't let Malfoy best him - not even at this. Unfortunately, in his haste to shut Malfoy up, he'd drawn him in too harshly and caused their teeth to clash. This was proving to be worse than his first kiss with Cho. Harry pulled back slightly, only to feel Malfoy's hand reach around the back of his neck. His fingers slid through Harry's hair, and he tilted their heads just so, and when their lips parted and slid softly together, something clicked.
Harry's eyes fluttered shut, and he released Malfoy's robes to reach up and take Malfoy's face in his hands. Aware that at any moment the other man might pull away, and desperate not to allow that to happen, Harry stroked his thumbs softly over Malfoy's cheeks and tentatively trailed his tongue along Malfoy's lips.
When Malfoy answered with his own tongue, it was all the encouragement Harry needed. He explored every inch of Malfoy's mouth, drinking in the taste and feel of the other man, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him that engulfed Harry in this moment. It took everything in Harry to remain rooted to the spot and not draw Malfoy's body against his own. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, Harry new this would be a Very Bad Thing to do, though he couldn't piece together why. Not while he was kissing Malfoy and Malfoy was kissing him back and nothing but the two of them and this glorious feeling meant anything. Harry only barely resisted when Malfoy moaned into his mouth.
A loud cough broke the spell and both boys pulled back, releasing their hold on each other, though somewhat reluctantly, Harry was pleased to note. Unable to resist, Harry cocked his head to the side and asked, "Better?"
Malfoy made a show of smoothing out his robes where Harry had grabbed them, avoiding Harry's eyes in the process. "That was ... adequate," he said. Then he stepped forward. The barrier was gone. "Apparently the mistletoe agrees."
Harry grinned. Adequate indeed. Reality had surpassed Harry's fantasies tenfold and not even in his imagination could their kisses have been described as adequate.
The Great Hall erupted and the moment evaporated. Both boys seemed to process the ramifications at the same time and stared wide-eyed at each other, faces turning red, before fleeing to opposite sides of the room.
Harry approached the Gryffindor table to face a gaping Ginny, a disgusted looking Ron and a smirking Hermione before he looked away. Chuckles and good-natured jibes found his ears, and above all were cat-calls from Seamus.
"Um, Harry?"
Ron's voice cut through the din, but Harry didn't look at his friend. Instead, face still burning, he busied himself collecting breakfast. "I don't want to talk about it," he said.
"Fair enough," Ron said. "But just so you know, I'm going to kill George next time I see him."
Harry thought about that, and how he'd wanted to do the same only moments ago. He suppressed a grin. Now he thought he might thank the man. He touched his tongue to his lips and could still taste Malfoy. This time he couldn't hold back the smile. Harry rather thought the joke shop was the best investment he'd ever made.
And for MOAR trapped by mistletoe fic (and accompanying art) go see dysonrules's ficlet over here: Magical Mistletoe Never Fails. Yes, it even has a similar title.
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1500
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco
Summary: George was a dead man. This thought crossed Harry's mind as he found himself trapped by the latest Weasley Wizarding Wheeze. With none other than Draco Malfoy.
Challenge: Written for enchanted_jae's Monthly Drabble Challenge #70 - winter/holiday plants. Also meets dracoharry100's prompt #6 - mistletoe. And way, way back, early this year, faithwood asked for KISSING.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Mistletoe Magic
"What do you expect, Potter?" Malfoy asked, paces ahead of Harry and picking up speed.
"Oh, I don't know," Harry said, struggling to keep up, irritated that Malfoy continued to walk away from him. "Maybe a thank you?"
Malfoy snorted, stopped dead in his tracks, and whirled around to face Harry. The portraits stopped their chattering to listen. "Thank you?" he screeched. "For what?"
Harry's hands balled into fists. He barely resisted the urge to punch the git. "It's customary to thank someone when they give you something."
"It was mine to begin with!" Malfoy yelled before he turned his back to Harry and, in a swirl of robes reminiscent of Snape, marched towards the Great Hall.
Harry caught up to him and grabbed his arm. "Fine," he said. Malfoy did have a point after all. But Harry had won the wand and - if Ollivander had been right, and given the outcome of the war, Harry didn't doubt that he had been - it had changed its allegiance. Harry could just have easily have kept it. "It was yours, but I won it from you."
"I won't even dignify that with an argument." Malfoy pulled his arm free. "Perhaps, had you returned my property the next day, the next week, or even the next month, I would have offered you a word of thanks." He stepped towards Harry and leaned in. "But it's been over seven months. I don't owe you a damned thing." He stormed away again.
He made a good case, Harry reluctantly admitted to himself. But the Aurors had taken Malfoy's wand as evidence, and Harry had only just got it back before returning to school. And since then ... well, they weren't exactly chums. Harry had waited for an opportune moment to present itself, but when one hadn't, he'd finally returned it to Malfoy yesterday. The git had snatched it, said, "It's about fucking time," and stormed off. Much like he was doing now.
Harry caught up to him again. "Malfoy!" He reached for Malfoy's shoulder as they crossed the threshold of the Great Hall, then stopped. "What the --?"
Malfoy looked as perplexed as Harry felt. Something - an invisible barrier of some sort - blocked their entrance to the room. Harry backed up to find himself blocked from leaving as well.
"Fuck me," Malfoy groaned.
Harry brushed aside the image those words conjured. "Excuse me?"
Malfoy pressed fingers to the bridge of his nose, as though willing himself to remain calm. "Mistletoe."
Harry looked up in horror. Sure enough, above them hung mistletoe. Then his gaze met the sea of faces watching them, a mixture of amusement and confusion. "Fuck me," he said, echoing Malfoy's words.
"Fortunately, that won't be necessary," Malfoy said. Harry's face flushed. "However ..."
Harry's eyes widened. "No," he whispered, shaking his head and stepping away from Malfoy as much as the barrier would allow. "No, no, no."
Malfoy narrowed his eyes at Harry, seemed to consider him for a moment, then said, "Surely you've seen this mistletoe at work this past week. Apparently it doesn't take no for an answer."
Harry had indeed seen it at work, and he was going to kill George the next time he saw him. A Weasley Wizarding Wheeze product, the mistletoe was enchanted. When two people walked under it together, they became trapped until they kissed. Harry had watched several pairs attempt to break the spell in other ways, but a kiss seemed to be the only solution. Not even the teachers had worked out a counter-spell yet. It had been used to great amusement all week - ever since last weekend's Hogsmeade trip. Even Harry had found himself chuckling at the resulting antics. And until this morning, Harry had managed to avoid the trap himself.
His heart began to race. After all, much to his own dismay, Harry had imagined this moment before. In his bed, curtains drawn, away from prying eyes, his mind had conjured images of the two of them caught this way. Several times. Only none of those times involved most of the school looking on. A noise, sounding embarrassingly like a whimper, escaped his throat.
Malfoy stalked towards Harry and leaned in. "What's the matter, Potter, scared?" He smirked. "Because you look scared."
Yes. Fuck, yes. Scared shitless. Scared that everyone would see through Harry's mask, would figure out what he'd been thinking, what he was feeling. Worse yet, he was scared that Malfoy would know. Harry did his best to bury those feelings and glared. "You wish." Then he launched himself forward and pressed his tightly closed lips against Malfoy's. And immediately drew back.
Malfoy scowled at him then tried to move into the room at the same time as Harry. Only to be stopped by the still-holding-strong barrier. Malfoy wiped his arm across his mouth in disgust. "Is that the best you can do?" he taunted. "Even the mistletoe didn't register that as a kiss."
Harry couldn't argue, really. It was more of a push than anything, one that just happened to be executed with lips rather than hands.
"Who would have thought after sixth year, with you and the Weaselette snogging all over the castle," he continued, now in a lower voice that only reached Harry, "that you couldn't even kiss." He sneered. "I guess it was all the practice she got in before you; all you had to do was follow her lead. Poor, sad Potter. Can't even --"
Harry took a step forward, seized the front of Malfoy's robes in his fist, and pulled him down into a bruising kiss. If only to shut him up. All fear had scattered as his humiliation and rage took over. He couldn't let Malfoy best him - not even at this. Unfortunately, in his haste to shut Malfoy up, he'd drawn him in too harshly and caused their teeth to clash. This was proving to be worse than his first kiss with Cho. Harry pulled back slightly, only to feel Malfoy's hand reach around the back of his neck. His fingers slid through Harry's hair, and he tilted their heads just so, and when their lips parted and slid softly together, something clicked.
Harry's eyes fluttered shut, and he released Malfoy's robes to reach up and take Malfoy's face in his hands. Aware that at any moment the other man might pull away, and desperate not to allow that to happen, Harry stroked his thumbs softly over Malfoy's cheeks and tentatively trailed his tongue along Malfoy's lips.
When Malfoy answered with his own tongue, it was all the encouragement Harry needed. He explored every inch of Malfoy's mouth, drinking in the taste and feel of the other man, breathing in the intoxicating scent of him that engulfed Harry in this moment. It took everything in Harry to remain rooted to the spot and not draw Malfoy's body against his own. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, Harry new this would be a Very Bad Thing to do, though he couldn't piece together why. Not while he was kissing Malfoy and Malfoy was kissing him back and nothing but the two of them and this glorious feeling meant anything. Harry only barely resisted when Malfoy moaned into his mouth.
A loud cough broke the spell and both boys pulled back, releasing their hold on each other, though somewhat reluctantly, Harry was pleased to note. Unable to resist, Harry cocked his head to the side and asked, "Better?"
Malfoy made a show of smoothing out his robes where Harry had grabbed them, avoiding Harry's eyes in the process. "That was ... adequate," he said. Then he stepped forward. The barrier was gone. "Apparently the mistletoe agrees."
Harry grinned. Adequate indeed. Reality had surpassed Harry's fantasies tenfold and not even in his imagination could their kisses have been described as adequate.
The Great Hall erupted and the moment evaporated. Both boys seemed to process the ramifications at the same time and stared wide-eyed at each other, faces turning red, before fleeing to opposite sides of the room.
Harry approached the Gryffindor table to face a gaping Ginny, a disgusted looking Ron and a smirking Hermione before he looked away. Chuckles and good-natured jibes found his ears, and above all were cat-calls from Seamus.
"Um, Harry?"
Ron's voice cut through the din, but Harry didn't look at his friend. Instead, face still burning, he busied himself collecting breakfast. "I don't want to talk about it," he said.
"Fair enough," Ron said. "But just so you know, I'm going to kill George next time I see him."
Harry thought about that, and how he'd wanted to do the same only moments ago. He suppressed a grin. Now he thought he might thank the man. He touched his tongue to his lips and could still taste Malfoy. This time he couldn't hold back the smile. Harry rather thought the joke shop was the best investment he'd ever made.
And for MOAR trapped by mistletoe fic (and accompanying art) go see dysonrules's ficlet over here: Magical Mistletoe Never Fails. Yes, it even has a similar title.