Harry had been a hero again, as usual. It was a habit he seemed unable to break. This time, he'd made sure the mail got through on New Year's Eve, even with hexed owls behaving like Errol all across the Scottish countryside. With a little help from his friends (that too in keeping with tradition), Harry had hauled letters and parcels and cages and the occasional crashed owl all the way to Hogwarts castle. Among this plethora of posted peculiarities was a package for Draco Malfoy. Which contained a generous helping of chocolate.

Harry knew that the package contained a generous helping of chocolate because he'd somehow got it into his tousled, snow-soggy head to deliver the package in person. And in the dungeons he stood, all alone with Draco Malfoy, watching the latter do a small yet infinitely stupid victory dance as the chocolate saw the dark of dungeon.

'YES!' cried Malfoy. 'Potter, I could bloody well kiss you!'

'No you couldn't.'

That stopped the stupid dance routine. 'What?'

'You couldn't kiss me.'

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. 'I could, if I wanted to.'

'You couldn't. I wouldn't let you.' Harry's face was blank, and it wasn't just the sheen of melted flakes.

Malfoy sniggered. 'Would it make you sick, Potty? Me kissing you?'

'Yes.'

Malfoy leered. 'Then maybe I will.'

'No you won't. I'd hex you.'

Malfoy frowned, inclining his head, perusing Harry. 'Wait a minute. Do you want me to kiss you?'

'I want you to not kiss me. That's the whole point,' Harry smirked.

'No, that's not it at all!' exclaimed Malfoy, pointing an accusing finger at Harry. 'You WANT me to kiss you! This is all a clev—stupid ruse! Hah! I would never kiss you, you, you horny hero, you!' His eyes bulged and his nostrils flared. He looked, in short, rather comical.

Harry snorted. 'Good.'

'You could never make me kiss you!' cried Malfoy, still pointing.

'Why?'

Malfoy blinked. The finger wavered. 'Because – you're stupid.'

'But you're an idiot.'

'I'm BRILLIANT!'

'And yet I'm the one who's managed to trick you into never, ever trying to kiss me.' Harry deigned to look very smug at this point.

Malfoy goggled. 'Why would I ever try to kiss YOU?'

'Ah, excuses, excuses. You're so good at them,' Harry sniggered.

'It's. Not. An. Excuse!' growled Malfoy. 'I don't want to kiss you!'

'Because you couldn't.'

Toppling over the edge of reason, Malfoy roared and charged, rather like a small, pale elf who thinks he's a rhinoceros. 'I'll show YOU, Potter!' And Harry did surprisingly little to fend him off.

And then, there was a kiss. It was quite good one.

Malfoy pulled back, still clutching Harry's shoulders. He scowled. 'You're not even trying to hex me!' He pouted.

'Wouldn't want to snog a toad, now would I?' grinned Harry.

'You're still stupid,' muttered Malfoy.

'But you're an idiot, wasting time.'

Malfoy, not one to prove himself a complete loon, plunged straight back into the kiss with renewed fervour. Harry managed a lopsided smile in the midst of all the labial exercise. If there was one thing he'd learnt in the many weeks of watching Draco Malfoy, it was that the poncy little Slytherin would go to great lengths to assert his intellectual independence and general opposition to any ideas not his own. And knowing your enemy is half the battle won. Whereas knowing your enemy in a biblical sense, well, that's a positive peace treaty, if a very rowdy one.

Outside, fireworks painted the midnight sky in a tame imitation of the sparks flying deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts, bouncing off two very stubborn boys.