Merry Christmas (I Don't Want to Fight Tonight)

A/N: Well, it is that time of year. Title borrowed from a Ramones song. (And the title before was a Corey Feldman movie, btw) This one has a lot more dialogue than I would like (I cut some out), but it was necessary.

*****

It's Christmas time. The whole school is here this holiday. Rules change with the times...once you're at Hogwarts, you don't go home until the end of term. Not that many people want to. What with all that's been going on out there. We don't even go to Hogsmede anymore. I digress.

Classes are out now. They've put together another Yule Ball for the older students, to keep us busy, I suppose. I'm there now. I'm going stag, much to the dismay of the Slytherin girls, and even a few Ravenclaws, I suspect. So they really don't know.

My mind keeps traveling back to Granger's comment in the library last week. She keeps giving me strange looks from over Weasley's shoulder. And Potter too, for that matter. I stare right back at them until they turn away. It seems I have gone from stalker to stalk-ee.

I find myself walking over to where the three Gryfindors are standing in the corner. Why can I never leave well enough alone? "So, Potter, where's your date?"

"Getting drinks," he answers stiffly, nodding in the direction of Ginny Weasley.

"Best friend's little sister? Wow. Scraping the bottom of the barrel, aren't we?"

"At least I have a date," he counters easily.

I look over to the other side of the room where there was a small group of five or six girls watching me. "Whatever."

"What exactly do you want, Malfoy?" Weasley asks. He looks dangerous, or as dangerous as a Weasley could possibly look. I wasn't wanted here.

"I'm bored. Figured I would go antagonise someone. And I never enjoy fighting with anyone more than I do you three."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yeah. We all know why *that* is."

Bugger. Fuck. Shit. Every expletive I had ever known ran through my head in unison. Okay. Pretend she didn't say it. She didn't say a word. You are cool, calm, and collected. You're a Malfoy. Act like one. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Dammit.

"You know exactly what I mean." Oh great. One of those arguments. She doesn't want to say it anymore than I do. Somehow I find that very amusing. I laugh. "What's so funny?"

I shake my head. "You know what? I don't need this tonight. I'm just going...over there."

As I walk away I hear Weasley speak. "You're right. He is gay."