Transferred over from my Ao3 account for you lovely people to enjoy. Basically, in a unforeseen turn of events - completely unheard of, really - I've decided to actually partake in a holiday-themed writing challenge this year. And, despite my long track record of losing motivation and giving up partway through when it comes to EVERYTHING, I am nevertheless putting all my effort into completing this. SO, let's see how it goes, shall we? ;v;

The idea of mistletoe, as Dean came to understand, really wasn't so different to those belonging to the Wizarding world than it was among Muggles. Of course, the first time he'd seen a bewitched version of it, he would have been quick to state quite the opposite, after it had promptly barked a greeting at him the second he'd walked underneath it. Though with careful reconsideration, he ultimately decided that the overall principle was still very much the same, and left it at that.

The only true difference had to be how seriously everyone seemed to take the certain golden rule that traditionally came with the decorative plant. For instance, in Dean's third year, Fred and George had conjured up a bit of mistletoe in the Gryffindor Common Room - naturally, directly in the middle of the entrance through the portrait hole. Dean had watched in mild awe as every single student, regardless of gender, surrendered with a considerable lack of protest to kissing the person they'd walked in next to. Most were flustered, sure, though it didn't appear to be nearly as big of a deal as Dean had initially imagined it to be.

This became especially apparent when he'd even caught sight of Neville reluctantly pecking a red-faced Ron on the mouth one day, only to part ways without so much as a second glance from the majority of the room's occupants. Aside from Ron's twin brothers, of course, who's adjoined wolf whistles had earned a few good-natured laughs, but otherwise nothing else of importance.

It was only a matter of time before he fell victim to the festive charade himself. Even with the measures he took to avoid it at all costs, Dean had slipped up while walking back to the Common Room after a particularly difficult end-of-term Potions exam with Seamus in tow. Looking back, he'd blame it on being distracted - the test had been brutal in every way, for it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that he always seemed to be at least a little distracted whenever he was in the presence of the sandy-haired boy.

Seamus seemed to notice their mistake at the very same moment Dean did, though instead of heaving an exasperated sigh of sorts as one might have expected him to do, he simply broke into one of his signature, cheeky grins instead.

"Well, that was bound t'happen sooner or later," Seamus laughed, acting as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be about to kiss your best mate. Though Dean didn't miss the hint of nervousness that wrapped around his words - after all, he was programmed to pick up on the slightest trace of any emotion in his best mate's voice, after a solid friendship going on three years strong.

"Uh - right," Dean nodded, forcing his own smile that he was sure wasn't at all that convincing. This was all too easily confirmed as Seamus, as bubbly and carefree as always, seemed to swallow any nerves he was feeling and placed a single hand on Dean's shoulder in order to promptly drag him down to his height.

"Ah, lighten up, mate. 'Tis the season, after all." And that was it before he was pressing their lips together with surprising force, and Dean had to clutch the books in his arms tighter to his chest in fear that he'd drop them in his newly dumbfounded state.

Then, as quickly as it had been initiated, it was over. Seamus even patted Dean's cheek softly before pulling away completely, that same, brash grin threatening to split his face clean in two.

"Same time tomorrow, then?" Seamus quipped lightly, laughing again at Dean's look of bewilderment before sauntering away into the Common Room without so much as another word.

It didn't take long after that for Dean to decide, that although mistletoe was indeed very much the same as he'd always known it to be, he had surely never held such appreciation for it in his entire life.