A very Happy Holiday Season, Everyone! I don't own Harry Potter or Draco or any mistletoe, but my Mother In Law helped me put up our tree :)
No beta on this sprinted piece so flaws are all mine.
You're not putting that there, are you?"
Draco looks down at where his fellow Head Student is standing beneath him, hands on her hips, looking particularly swotty and put out.
She also looks particularly fetching in her tight blue jumper, but that's neither here nor there.
"I am," he answers back, proud of his decorating.
"Well, stop it," she answers with a quick stomp of her foot. She's having a bit of a fit. How adorable.
"Where, pray tell, would you have me hang the mistletoe then? Just willy nilly with the rest of the tinsel?" He scoffs at the notion. "Ridiculous."
"I'd have you not hang it at all. In fact, I'd do away with the entire tradition, if I had my say. Unfortunately I have to live with it in the castle… and Hogsmeade… and all over Muggle bloody London, but I will not have it hanging in what is effectively my own living room!"
Draco stops, noticing she is a bit more worked up then he had realized. Frowning, he hops down from the stool on which he's standing. "It's just mistletoe, Granger." Considering her, he doesn't like what he's starting to assume. "Oh, I get it. You don't want it here because why? You have to room with the resident Death Eater and I'll...take advantage?"
"Of course not," she denies, and it seems sincere. "I'm certain you wouldn't be caught dead under it with the likes of me. But you're not the only wizard in the castle, one of which it's all I can do to avoid his efforts of… rekindling."
Well, that's a surprise. Nothing like a little personal information to quell his dive into self deprecation. "I see. Weasley then? Still trying to tame your lion?"
She wrinkles her nose. "Your euphemisms are gross."
Draco laughs a little, then goes on. "You know, I can't help the stuff hanging all over the castle, but the simple solution to this one," he gestures to the twig hanging over his head, "is simply not to invite him here. It's the Head common room, Granger. No one has to be here but you and me."
"And whatever slag you're hanging that up for."
That hits close to home in a way he doesn't care for. "Because there's been just a parade of witches, desperate for a chance with their very own war criminal?"
She rolls her eyes at him. He doesn't care for that either. "Self pity doesn't suit you, Malfoy."
Draco narrows his eyes. "It's not self pity, but I very much didn't appreciate the implication. One, I am not of such questionable standards, no matter what your prejudiced view of purebloods-"
"Me, prejudiced?!"
"-and two, I think it's been made pretty obvious by the student body, that the only person who has seen fit to give me a chance is McGonagall. So if by slags, you meant Minerva, then I guess, yes," he sneers, "you could expect a witch caught unawares by my little trick."
There. That should shut her up. The nerve, implying he's some kind of letch, trying to lure witches into his lair. He just thought a little cheer might be nice. Like his mother used to have. Unfortunately, with both his parents under house arrest, there will be no Malfoy Christmas this year. Was a little bit of home comfort too much to ask?
"Whatever, Granger. Just rip it all the fuck down, then." He turns, ready to march into his bedroom for a nice pout, grabbing a string of fairy lights on the way and tugging them off the wall like a petulant child.
"Malfoy, wait. I'm sorry."
He feels her hand, small and soft, grab onto his wrist, laying unbeknownst against his dark mark that is always hidden from view. He doesn't much like her touching it, so he shakes her off. "Don't," he bites out, turning toward her. She looks a little hurt, but he's too busy licking his own wounds to worry about hers.
"Sorry," she says again. "Maybe I am… That is, perhaps I do have some preconceived notions. I don't know you that well, Malfoy. I didn't mean to imply that I do."
It's exactly what she meant, if you ask Draco, but he really doesn't want to drag this out. The truth is, he has to live with the witch. Not to mention, he might have the teensiest little crush on her. Not that he expects anything to come of that, but he doesn't want to be at each others' throats.
"It's fine," he allows. "None taken."
She grins a little. That pretty little smile she bestows on Weasley. No wonder the red-headed wonder is still chasing her like a puppy. Draco's heard the man's patronus is a dog. He certainly slobbers after her like one.
They stand there a moment, just staring, when she finally looks away, shuffling her foot and looking nervous. "Anyway, if you want, just decorate however you like. It looks pretty," she adds, and starts to back away.
Only she can't.
They both look up at the same time. Draco curses under his breath, squinting his eyes shut and trying to will it all away. It's a bad dream. Must be. He's unknowingly done exactly what she accused him of; trapped her into a magically compelled kiss.
"Fuck, Granger, I'm so-"
Draco doesn't get to finish his apology, because then her mouth is pressed against his. It's unexpected and a little frightening and fucking delightful.
When she pulls back, the magic releasing them, he just looks at her. Perplexed would be a good word. "Granger?"
"I mean… I'm the only witch in the room. If you weren't inviting anyone else...?"
His grin is slow but quite sincere. "Can I hang more then?"
"Don't push it," she laughs and starts to walk away. Halfway to her door, she points to the cozy sitting area and rather romantic fireplace just beyond. "Well, maybe there," she suggests, and winks before she goes.
This was written for a Drabble Challenge in the Dramione Fanfiction Forum Facebook Group. 100-1000 words (I hit it right at 1k on the nose) and include "You're not putting that there, are you?" as well as tinsel and fairy lights. Just a little seasonal morsel since I've not posted anything in a month. I have an advent piece waiting to be revealed as well as a one shot that was supposed to be for advent... but I went way over the word count lol...
