Just wanted to say that I do not, of course, own Harry Potter in anyway. Also, I wanted to thank and recognize my new found beta, StarShineDC...you should read her work, too. It's fantastic and everything. So thank you for reading this, oh kind and lovely readers.

"The Muggle Comprehension League has asked me to allow them to hold a social event involving Muggle media and games in honor of the newly established Muggle Appreciation Month." Albus Dumbledore paused here to send his gaze over the expanse of students before him. When he continued, it was with twinkling eyes. "I agreed and have come to a decision for those of us at Hogwarts: a party or dance will be held for each year level tomorrow night. The following morning, I ask that you check your billboards in each of your commons. Instructions for the next week will be there." There was another pause in which he gauged the reaction of students. "And without further ado, enjoy the rest of your meal!"

The elderly headmaster sat down in his chair in the center of the head table and promptly began to eat a rather delicious-looking slice of ham. Students continued to watch a moment - some intrigued, some wary, all curious - before turning to discuss the announcement. Some about the Great Hall were prattling excitedly on what they were going to wear to these dances and who they would take - one night was so not enough time to really get a good date, wasn't it?

Then there were students like Harry Potter, who had immediately attempted to bang his head repeatedly on the wooden table. He only succeeded in emerging from his dinner plate with mashed potatoes dripping from his face, which Ron Weasley found absolutely hilarious. After giving Ron a rude hand gesture and ignoring Hermione's objections to the juvenile gesture, he told his two best friends in a monotone voice, "This is it, the end of the world. Another required dance. The Yule Ball was bad enough." He and Ron shared sympathetic looks, the pair of them had been miserable. "I can't stand another dance. It's been good knowing you two..."

Hermione looked skeptical, rolled here eyes. "Really, Harry? You've defeated a basilisk and managed to escape You-Know-Who several times, and yet a simple dance is the end of the world?"

Harry nodded frantically and Ron joined him. The girl rolled her eyes and muttered what sounded like "Boys" before rising. "Right, then. I'm going to the-"

"Library," said Ron and Harry together, resulting in a glare from Hermione before she continued on.

"Well, yes, but this time I encourage you two to do the same... That potions essay is due in three days. Knowing Snape, he'll take off at least thirty points from just Harry if he missed another due date. But if it was you, too, Ron, Gryffindor could lose fifty points! Particularly with a dance coming up. He'd think the pair of you were slacking because of it."

As true as this was, neither boy was willing to give up their remaining "free" time to do a potions essay. However, they nodded reluctantly before shoving their empty plates forward on the table and standing up. Then they ran, leaving Hermione standing in the Great Hall with a rather Mrs. Weasley-ish look of disapproval on her face.

The next day came and went and dragged on and on until there was nothing more left of the day except for the two hours they had to themselves and then the Muggle Appreciation Dance. Harry and Ron were slumped in the Gryffindor common room with bored expressions on their faces as they played chess and willed away the time with idle chatter.

Neither of them noticed that the two hours had passed until Hermione was rushing down the spiral stairs leading to the girl's dormitories. "Harry! Ron! We need to go! The party's about to start and neither of you are ready!"

Jumping at the sound and tone of her voice, the two put away the chess board and fled up the stairs, coming down a few moments later to see her scowling and tapping her foot at them. The boys quickly scrambled out of the portrait of the Fat Lady to avoid another scolding, for Hermione was still ushering them out of the room.

When they arrived, the party was already in full swing for most people. Music that no one (except for those who were Muggleborn and a few scattered students) recognized was blasting at a high volume from a wizarding record machine that had been charmed for the volume. Lights that were potentially problematic for epileptics were flashing on the flooded dancefloor. People were dancing in groups or in couples, very few having actually had the time to bother finding dates. There were some standing awkwardly by the refreshment table, others playing provided Muggle games, or (if you were Draco Malfoy) refusing to enter the party at all.

"This is degrading," the blonde announced to the few surrounding him who cared. Other Slytherins in their year were more interested in grinding against people on the dancefloor than joining Draco in objecting to this farce. "Muggle party, Muggle food, Muggle music... At a wizarding school! If my father heard about this, that old fool Dumbledore would be out of here in no time!" Crabbe and Goyle, two gorilla-like boys, grunted in agreement. Pansy Parkinson, the bint, was edging away to follow Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott to the dancefloor. They were making the Hufflepuffs uncomfortable and it looked like quite a bit of fun.

But Draco's diatribe had also been heard by the passing Gryffindor trio. "Urgh," Ron muttered. "Ferret's complaining as usual."

Somehow or another, Malfoy heard this comment with his "superior hearing skills" (as he would claim later). He turned to the trio, head angled cockily. "Of course, you'd want in, Weasel. Want to snap your wand and join the filthy beings... like your father?" His usual sneer marred his features as his cold grey eyes took in the bespectacled boy at his side. "As for you, Potter, it seems like you've already joined them. You're a bad enough wizard, after all... Are you sure that giant oaf friend of yours didn't mistake you for someone else?"

"Bad enough wizard, huh? This is coming from someone who can't do a thing for himself..." Harry paused, contemplative for a moment. "I'm sorry, I meant herself. You obviously use your dear old daddy's influence to just slide through school."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed and his cheeks took on a pink tinge that might've been anger or embarrassment. "I'd watch my step if I were you, Potter. I am perfectly capable of destroying you." He swept off proudly in the opposite direction with Crabbe and Goyle at his side, accidentally going into the large room the party was being held in. It only took a few moments for him to realize this, but it was too late to back out. He only swore quietly to himself.

The Golden Trio entered the party moments after he did and looked around. To Harry and Ron's mutual relief, it was nothing like the Yule Ball. It was a rather quaint, really, with none of the pomp and circumstance that had ruled the last one. There was even a karaoke machine set up in the far corner, much to Harry's surprise, and Seamus Finnegan had command of it. He had the microphone cord wrapped around his hand and his hips were jerking side to side in time with the beat.

So scared of breaking it, that you won't let it bend

I wrote two hundred letters I will never send

Sometimes these cuts are so much deeper than they seem

You'd rather cover up, I'd rather let them bleed.

Hermione ran over because she was one of the few people who actually knew what Seamus was doing and wanted to see what other songs were available and Ron followed because his father would undoubtedly want to know all about this. Uncomfortable in the crowd, Harry soon became one of the awkward stand-by-the-refreshment-table people, though he didn't take anything from the table except a Mars Bar he was secretly thrilled to see.

His green eyes scanned the crowd with some amusement slowly breaking through at the sight of all these witches and wizards deal with Muggle "oddities." Some they had decided on conjuring tomatoes to throw at Seamus, who laughingly put up a shield charm to protect himself. Others lifted their wand, lit with lumos, and rocked side to side, much to the bafflement of their peers. The people who were playing the Muggle games had decided to spice up a round of truth or dare by jinxing it so that no one could lie and the consequences of ignoring a dare were humiliating, if Parvarti Patil's clown suit was of any indication.

Malfoy, he noticed, was steadily becoming an awkward standing-by-the-refreshment-table person himself, his cup (Harry never thought he'd see plastic cups at Hogwarts) never empty for long. Watching him, though, Harry was slowly beginning to wonder if the drinks were spiked... Malfoy seemed to fighting an inner battle with himself. His foot would begin to tap and then he'd stare at it until it quelled and then he'd start to bob his head slightly until that was also forcefully stopped. He was, Harry realized with some amusement, quelling the urge to dance.

"Tarantallegra,"whispered Harry, pointing his wand at the blond teen. The effect was immediate and Malfoy's legs began to flail uncontrollably. He tried to reach for his wand and grab the table for balance at the same time and ended up smacking someone and getting the punch largely spilled onto himself. With laughter from spectators ringing in his ears and his hair and clothes dripping, Draco turned towards Harry with his teeth gritted and his eyes stormy. Then, before Harry could react, a fist slammed into his jaw. He retaliated immediately, though one of Draco's still-flailing legs managed to knock him off balance and send them both to the floor. More eyes were drawn their way as the two engaged in their own, awkward dance on the floor with grunted swears and short-range blows.

That's when the Weasley twins intervened, having snuck from their own year's party out of boredom. The younger kids were much more fun to prank, after all, and the pair now saw a golden opportunity,

"As entertaining as this is," Fred began.

"We'd like to see something more entertaining, wouldn't we?" George finished, smirking as he gestured with arms to the gathered crowd. There was an appreciative laugh from some, simple curiosity from others. What could the twins possibly be planning here?

"So what do you think we should do with them, Fred?"

"I'm not sure about you, George, but I think we should torture them a bit. After all, they've ruined this fine gathering."

"They're at least doing a fine job of trying. What shall we do to them?" George shook his head, seemingly disappointed in the duo. The two had stopped fighting, Harry's fist pressed against Draco's cheek and Harry's tie caught in Draco's teeth. There was annoyance in Draco's eyes as he started to push away from the Gryffindor, but the twins' following words stilled him.

"I was thinking something along the lines of..."

"...Shoving them in a closet and..."
"...Enchanting the closet to lock them in until..."

The brothers grinned at one another and then at the pair before finishing the plan in unison. "...They kiss."

"Sounds about right," Fred continued.

"Let's do it," George agreed and the twins whipped out their wands and froze them before either could disentangle themselves and go for their own wands.

Those close enough to hear had various reactions, though the prominent one was dark amusement and surprise. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter kiss? It'd be an outrage! It'd be a scandal! It would probably fuel the gossip mill for weeks.

Beaming, the Weasley twins levitated them into a nearby closet, spelled the door, and walked off. When nothing happened, spectators began to lose interest. If they ever got out of the closet, everyone would know how they'd gotten out.

Neither of the boys were amused by this turn of events. Once the freezing spell wore off, they were both up and as far away as they could manage in the confines of this small closet. Harry suddenly felt a hand across his face.

"Ouch! Bloody hell, Malfoy, what was that for?"
"Getting us stuck in this godforsaken closet," Draco hissed, reaching into his pocket for his wand. It was lit with a quick lumos, bathing them both in a warm glow.

"Aw, poor Malfoy," was Harry's sarcastic response. "Here I was thinking that you were used to being deep in the closet." He watched Draco's cheeks pinken and his eyes seemed to glow even brighter. Harry was able to ignore the odd fluttering he suddenly had in his stomach when Draco's palm went across his cheek again.

"Shut up, Potter. This is obviously your fault and I demand that you get us out at once."

"We can't get out, Malfoy. In case you forgot, we have to kiss."

"You wish you could have that honor," Malfoy spat and Harry only rolled his eyes, not bothering to reply. Kissing Malfoy was a fate worse than death, in his opinion. He'd sooner die in the ruddy closet. He began palming the walls and the door, looking for some way out.

He took his wand and aimed it at the doorknob. "Alohamora." There was a flash of light, but it didn't work. With a frustrated sound, he hit the door and spun to face Malfoy. He would never forgive the twins for this.

Draco didn't speak, staring stubbornly back at Harry, and the silence stretched so long, Harry began to wonder if someone had cast silencio on them both. Finally, he scowled. "I am going to hate myself in the morning, and we are never going to speak of this again."

"What are you talking about, Po-?"

Harry planted a chaste, brief kiss on Draco's lips and tried the door. Nothing. "Oh, come off it! We did it, didn't we? Open up!"

Four evil, vile, terrible words appeared on the middle of the door of the closet, easily viewed by the lumos Draco's wand had kept up even though the blonde seemed to have been stunned by the brush of lips. He was slack-jawed, staring at Harry. Five seconds, the door read. Both sides.

Harry punched the door hard, pain singing up his arm. "Really?" he demanded and jumped when Draco's voice permeated the air at a volume Harry had definitely not been expecting.

"What was that, Potter?"

A stubborn look appeared in Harry's eyes as he turned to face his Slytherin tormentor. He was seriously regretting coming to this party, Hermione's wrath or no. "I'm not going to spend the night in a closet with you, Malfoy, so shut it."

Draco seemed to be hyperventilating a little bit, and his cheeks were flushed a deep red. Harry refused to be charmed. "Damn that, Potter, and damn you! How dare you? I never intended my first kiss to be with the Boy-Who-Forgot-To-Die-Because-He..." Draco went entirely still and his mouth formed a startled little "o" as his words caught up with him. "I said that aloud," he whispered.

There was a stretch of silence while Harry processed this. Never in a million years had he thought Draco was as inexperienced with kissing as he was. His own experiences hadn't been the greatest, though, and this wasn't going to be an exception. It was nice to know that Draco would have to suffer as well, though. "Nice, Malfoy. Very smooth."

Draco pressed himself back against the wall, seething. "Shut it, Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Fine, but I'm getting out of here." Again, he placed his lips on Draco's. This time, the Slytherin pulled away, so Harry backed him into the wall and firmly gripped Draco's hands to keep him from struggling away.

Their lips came together again and this time stayed. He was just pulling back with a frustrated sound when something wet touched his lips. Both reared back, Draco's retreat more mental considering his proximity to the wall. They stared at one another for a long moment until Draco stepped forward, fingers diving into Harry's hair, and his mouth assaulted Harry's. A groan welled up, unbidden, and burst into Draco's mouth, answered by a moan from the blonde. Their tongues met and it was like some spell went down their spines. Harry's fingers curled into Draco's robes and then he felt his back against the wall and his eyes, which had begun to flutter shut, flew open again.

On a gasp, he pulled away and stared at Draco for a moment before he disentangled himself from the blonde and flung open the closet door. It hit the opposite wall with a bang, though he didn't care about who noticed him now. He stormed out of the party too quickly and too angrily to encourage conversation, and didn't stop until he was in his bedroom. He immediately crawled into bed and willed himself to sleep, Draco's taste still on his lips.