prologue
Ah, yes. Mistletoe. A small, seemingly innocent plant that many consider festively romantic. Hanging above unsuspecting pairs, itching to create a spark that will set fire and blossom a love, mistletoe seemed to be the largest threat to Hogwarts this year.
Now, normally mistletoe is bad enough, but when you bring a whole staff of witches and wizards bloodthirsty for young love, things can get, well, just a little crazy.
Decorated with many enchantments cast by each and every professor, the mistletoe residing in Hogwarts's Corridor Ceilings was definitely one of the most eventful happenings of the holiday, second only to a blossoming romance between the two most unsuspected pair.
And when hundreds of students desperate for love enter a mistletoe filled castle, things can get a bit out of control.
one
"Go, Harry!" Hermione Granger's cheers were drowned by the commotion of the first Gryffindor and Ravenclaw match. Ravenclaw's seeker, Cho Chang was neck and neck with Harry Potter as they simultaneously dove for the golden snitch. Fluttering about, the snitch was only metres above the Ravenclaw stands.
Hermione tugged her burgundy and ochre scarf closer to her neck as cold rain pricked her skin. "Do you suppose the match will end soon? It's getting cold."
Luna looked over at Hermione, wearing her usual lion hat. "I don't mind it. The rain feels like Kegglepuffs, who swim in rain puddles and confuse you rather terribly."
"Luna," Hermione sighed, "of course, you know Kefflepuggs aren't actually-"
"Kegglepuffs," Luna interjected, correction Hermione poor pronunciation of the species.
"Right. Well, nevermind then." Turning back to the game, Hermione watched the teams dance around each other as they scored points.
With a dive and a collective gasp from the Gryffindor stands, Harry began zooming toward the snitch, which was now directly behind the large scoreboard.
Announcer, Lee Jordan, yelled out the game's happenings energetically, radiating the feeling of a Quidditch match, "Potter dives toward the snitch with Cho racing behind him! Potter is in arms reach of the snitch, aaaand... Potter successfully gets the snitch! GRYFFINDOR WINS!"
As Harry did a lap around the pitch with the snitch flittering aimlessly in his hand, the Gryffindor Stands roared with applause.
"Woohoo!" Hermione cheered for Harry and Ron, of course, but mostly she was happy because she got to go back to the comfort of the Hogwarts library now.
Casting a spell to project her voice, Professor McGonagall addressed the students, "Before the school and faculty return to the dry and warm ease of Hogwarts, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore would like to make an announcement."
Dumbledore, who rose from his seat in the Professor's Stands, turned to the crowd with a welcoming grin. "Greetings, students. A warm congratulations to the Gryffindor house for their victory today. Now, I have some important news regarding the holidays, prefects and Christmas cheer."
He gestured to the cold rain puncturing the Quidditch Pitch as he continued, "Beginning in a mere 2 week, on the first of December, we will be instilling decorations, such as trees, wreaths, and, of course, mistletoe." The students began to murmur excitedly amongst themselves at the mention of the risqué plant. Clearing his throat, Dumbledore quickly regained their attention. "There will also be a Christmas ball, similar to the Yule Ball, available to fourth years and above. Prefects, please meet in the staff room near the portrait of the Seer holding a crystal ball on the fourth floor. That will be all."
As the spell broke that broadcasted Dumbledore's gravely voice to the Pitch and conversations broke out frantically, Hermione made her way toward the castle for the meeting quickly. She figured she could congratulate Harry and Ron on their terrific flying when she was done with the meeting.
This bloody rain! Oh, this humidity is probably completely destroying my hair! Hermione thought to herself, I do wonder how the ball will turn out. And the decorations will be very beautiful, I'm sure.
"Oi, Granger," a nasal voice called out from behind her. "Do you always wear your hair like that? Or did you forget to brush it today"
Hermione turned around, rolling her chocolate eyes at the source of her voice. "What do you want, Parkinson?"
"Not anything to do with you, Mudblood," she snarled, quickly growing anger.
"Then kindly shove off. I'm going to a prefect meeting, and last I checked, you weren't smart enough to pass Potions, let alone become a prefect," Hermione snapped back, turning around to continue walking toward the towering castle ahead of her.
"Why the stick up your arse, Granger?" Malfoy said bitterly as he sauntered up next to Pansy, Blaise Zabini and his two henchmen following.
"Not you, too," she groaned to herself. "Don't you snakes have anyone else to annoy beyond their wits?"
"Well," Malfoy drawled, "according to my schedule, 4:30 is booked for bothering Granger, but at 5 I'm supposed to pester The-Boy-Who-Won't-Die-Already and his weasel boyfriend."
Hermione sneered and quickened her pace.
"Beaver Tooth! Don't you find it rude to abandon me here, considering we're both prefects?" He ran up to Hermione, much to her disappointment.
"Malfoy," she stopped walking and dramatically turned to face the blonde. "Why don't you just go talk to your friends?"
Malfoy smirked, "If you used your eyes, then perhaps you'd realize that they left for supper while you were speed walking away from us."
Hermione blushed at the stupid mistake and began walking again, Malfoy a mere metre away. "Whatever, Ferret."
"Hah! I won," Malfoy grinned triumphantly as they began making their way up to a staircase.
"Won what?" Hermione asked.
Malfoy acted as though it was perfectly obvious, "Our battle of wits, of course."
"Battle of wits?" Hermione repeated doubtfully. "I wasn't aware we were fighting over who's smarter now, too."
"Oh, please." They walked to the second-floor staircase. "That's our biggest battle. We've been competing since we were eleven."
"Oh?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, unsure of what to make of their 'battle of wits', as Malfoy put it. They were now on the second-floor staircase.
"Sure," he said, "Tests, house points awarded to us, and, of course, O.W.L. scores. You don't mean to tell me that you don't try to see who can transfigure quicker, or get better marks on Potions whenever we're in class together?"
"Well," Hermione thought to herself as they walked toward the third-floor staircase that leads them to their destination, "I suppose that I do try to beat you, although I find it to be more subconscious for myself."
"See?"
"Hmph. I guess you're right," Hermione admitted painfully.
"Draco: 2, Granger: 0."
Hermione sneered at him and they walked in silence through the hallways of the fourth floor. Finally, the duo reached the Seer portrait.
"Miss," the painting's voice was similar to Trelawney, "I fear you will find yourself stuck in an unpleasant situation if you enter the room! Mars is bright tonight; don't go into the room!"
The voice trailed away as they entered the hallway that leads to the staff room next to the large painting.
"What a bunch of rubbish," she mumbled.
"It's not," Draco corrected her. "My mother has Seer blood. Her great-great-great grandmother made a prophecy once, and, unsurprisingly, it came true."
"Believe all the lies you want, Malfoy. It's a load of shite," she indignantly huffed.
"Just because you're too close-minded to accept that seeing has loads factual evidence doesn't mean that most respectable wizards, such as the Malfoys, can't accept it either," he rolled his pale eyes at her, causing Hermione to glare back.
"Ah, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore addressed the two prefects as they entered the main room, beckoning them into the room. "I'm surprised to see you walking... together."
Although he didn't outright say that he thought Hermione and Malfoy we're together, he implied it in his tone and the blue twinkle adorning his sparkling eyes.
Quick to correct the Headmaster, who watched them with arched brows and a look of surprise, Malfoy started shaking his head and quickly stated, "No, Professor, that's very incorrect; Granger and I hate each other. We can hardly stand each oth-"
Overlapping Malfoy's complaints, Hermione uttered, "Oh, no, sir. Malfoy was pestering me and we both needed to come here, so we ended up walking together, and-"
Dumbledore put a hand up to silence Hermione's fumbling tone and Draco's disgusted replies, which effectively cut them off, "While we wait for the rest of the prefects to arrive, why don't the...two of you take a seat over there."
Hermione blushed furiously and began making her way to the large, circular table. Draco, sitting across the table from Hermione, was still wearing a sneer and was glaring at Dumbledore.
"Er, Professor?" Hermione asked after a minute of awkward silence passed, "When you said mistletoe earlier, did you mean magical mistletoe? I've read about enchanted mistletoe in books before, and I was curious about the type that you were referring to."
"Miss Granger," the Headmaster replied, "all shall be explained once the remaining six prefects arrive."
"Of course, Headmaster," Hermione nodded, focusing on her hands, which lie folded in her lap.
"Bloody Christmas festivities," Malfoy murmured to himself quietly so that Hermione could barely hear him, concealing his complaints from Dumbledore.
Hermione hated to agree with the ferret, but, truthfully, Christmas seemed superficial when there was the looming issue of Voldemort.
Harry had been conspiring about Draco's relation to Voldemort since their sixth year began a few months ago, but there had been no proof to agree with his theory, so all notions of his status as a death eater had been effectively dropped by the trio.
Glancing at his forearms, which were showing from him pushing his white sleeves up to his elbows, Hermione saw only pale skin, with no ugly Dark Mark to contrast against it.
"Hermione!" Ron's warm and welcoming voice sounded as he entered the room, covered in water from playing in the rain. "Wasn't that a great game?"
"Er, yes, Ronald," Hermione wasn't as versed as her two male friends would have preferred her to be in the realm of Quidditch, "You and Harry both did marvelously! Wasn't it cold out there in the rain, though?"
"A bit, I guess. Bloody fantastic win, though!" Ron sat next to Hermione and turned in his seat to face her.
"Weasel," Malfoy's voice was back to its taunting tone and he wore a smirk, "Winning 150-140 means that the only reason you won was that Potter caught the snitch when he did. Not quite something to be proud of, if you ask me."
Ron glared at him, his ears beginning to grow pinker, a dead giveaway that he was riffed by Malfoy.
"Then I'm glad no one asked you, Malfoy," Hermione defended her friend, crossing her arms angrily.
"Ahem," Dumbledore cleared his throat, reminding the trio that he was still present.
"Sorry, Professor," Hermione winced; she didn't want to appear rude in front of the Headmaster of the school.
Dumbledore simply chuckled and gestured to Malfoy, "No need to apologize, Miss Granger, but I'd prefer that you keep your, ah, lovers quarrels to yourself next time."
"Lovers quarrels?!" Ron nearly shouted, slamming his hand onto the table.
Malfoys face took on a slightly pink tone and he stared at the table. Because it was the Headmaster who had said that, he couldn't make a snide retort back, but it was perfectly obvious that he wished to.
"Headmaster, I already told you, we really do despise each other," Hermione said, pointedly sneering at Malfoy.
"Hermione," Ron said, "you aren't with him, are you?"
"Of course not, Weasley! To be frank, I don't know why Dumbledore thought that we were since we were arguing when we walked in together!" Malfoy growled at Ron with a purposeful glare at Dumbledore, who simply smiled in response.
"Exactly," Hermione huffed at Ron.
"Hmph," Ron huffed to himself, still upset with Malfoy.
As the rest of the prefects poured into the room and took their seat around the table, Hermione felt the pink in her cheeks lessen a great bit and return to their normal shade. Finally, everyone arrived and the meeting was called into action.
"As I'm sure you all heard," Dumbledore began, "Hogwarts will be celebrating Christmas with more ferocity than usual. The faculty and I all agree that a hearty holiday celebration would be a good way to boost morale around the school. Therefore, each group of assigned prefects will be in charge of a few aspects of the planning and decorating, to improve efficiency. Any questions?"
Hermione's hand shot up into the air, "Sir, will we choose our groups and our assigned project or shall you choose for us?"
Dumbledore smiled at her good question and addressed the confusion, "I will be choosing your partners as followed. Weasley, Goldstein. Patil, Macmillan. Greengrass, Abbott. And lastly," Dumbledore smirked at the unhappy duo, "Granger, Malfoy. See the chalkboard for your assignments."
With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore gestured at the words appearing on the chalkboard. "That is all."
Hermione had a feeling that this holiday season was going to be more hectic than usual.
A/N
hi! i've decided to try my hand at writing again, although i believe i've drastically improved since i last tried writing this fic! hopefully, the plot will be easier to follow and the characters will be more in character. i have a plan for where i want the plot to go and how the characters will interact. thank you for returning if you came from the first fic and for starting this journey with me if not!
also REFERENCE THE DISCLAIMERS FOR PLOT MISTAKES!
comment & vote, please & thanks!
xx
gracie