Draco was wondering the halls of Hogwarts. The purpose? To try to distract himself from the lonliness that he felt that Yule morning. So far though, it wasn't working. All his 'friends' had gone home for the holiday; he would've done too, if his parents hadn't been needed in the Ministry. But they were. So here he was. Walking carefully around the lavish Hogwarts decorations and keeping to the shadows. Not that there was any need - there was barely anyone left over the holidays, and those who were would likely be in the common rooms opening presents. Draco had ignored his presents when he'd got out of bed, mainly because he knew it would all be a load of materialistic rubbish that he didn't actually need. Not that he was ungrateful. But he was ungrateful.
His steps echoed loudly and cleanly throughout the corridors, alerting any present creature of his approach. He was therefore confused when suddenly everything went quiet. Including the echos. "A silencing charm" his mind supplied. Sinking even further into the shadows, Draco continued onwards with caution; wand out and a battling stance ready. He didn't want to be caught off guard. He rounded the corner, and to his dismay, was caught very off guard. He had not been expecting to find Potter sat hugging himself, appearing to be sobbing. Draco was taken completely by surprise. How was he supposed to know that Potter would be having emotional problems in the way of where he wanted to walk? A voice sneered in the back of his head that if he'd been in the right state of mind he probably would have been able to predict it. Potter probably just needed a foot to the head to remind him where he was.
It turned out, Draco could only be bothered to shove Potter lightly on the shoulder. It probably looked rather affectionate, and Draco wish he could have another go at that - make it more aggressive or something - but he couldn't. Potter jumped comically, and looked up at Draco with startled eyes. Then his face morphed into anger; probably at being caught crying. Unexpectedly, it then turned to resignation, and Potter just turned away, legs sliding out in front of him. That was anticlimatic. Draco had been hoping for a fight or something, so he wouldn't be so bored and alone. No such luck! Surprising even himself, and Potter evidently, instead of pushing further, Draco just slid down next to the Gryffindor.
The floor was hard. And cold. And the wall pressed horribly into Draco's back. It wasn't comfortable at all - what was Potter thinking?! Draco let out a loud silent sigh, and tried to make himself comfortable. He shuffled. He wriggled. He scooted. Nothing worked. When he turned to Potter, he found the boy staring at him like he was mad. Not suprisingly, he supposed. He did feel a little odd. A frustrated huff escaped him, and he crossed his arms moodily.
Until he was struck with a brilliant idea.
Potter's confused look shot into pure horror, as Draco lifted his bum off the ground, and nestled it against him. It was a lot comfier. Until Potter threw him off.
Well first of all how dare he!
Second of all what the heck was he doing sitting on Draco?
Draco would not have this!
A battle of arms.
A tumble dryer of bodies.
Somehow ending up with... what was that?
Draco straddling Potter? Their lips touching gently...? A soft pale hand creeping into a mess of dark hair... A pair of stronger hands holding the waist above them with care... Light kisses trailing down Potter's neck, a passionate bite of the lip, a desperate pulling together of bodies.
They didn't even have to bother with mistletoe.