"Well, today was fun," Draco commented. The two were in the empty Gryffindor common, where Draco got permission to stay since all the Slytherins were gone.
They were lying on the hearthrug in front of the fire. It was ten minutes to midnight.
"Yeah, I'm sure you found it quite amusing," Harry replied, grudgingly. Draco rolled his eyes, but laughed.
"Hey, you had your revenge!" Harry grinned at the memory.
"Who'd have thought that Draco Malfoy would be ticklish?"
"Shut up." Harry laughed. "That's wasn't fair, either," he added, "considering you're not ticklish."
"God loves irony," he replied, airily.
Harry never spoke a truer word.
"So, um, at breakfast the other day…Why did you…you know…" Harry trailed off, awkwardly. Draco winced; he'd been dreading this question.
"Well, Harry, Hermione threw caution to the winds and cast a spell on me which, unbeknownst to her, caused me to do the most humiliating thing possible."
"What spell did she cast?" Draco muttered something incoherent. "What?"
"…Ludikris…" Draco mumbled. Harry's eyes widened to the size of saucers.
"So, you mean…?" Draco shut his eyes and began to ramble.
"Yes, Harry, that's exactly what I mean. Ever since last friggin' year, I've had a major crush on you, and my deepest desire was to kiss you."
When he opened his eyes, Harry was lying on his side, looking down at Draco. Smiling at the open, I-just-spilled-my-guts-so-I'm-fearing-the-worst look on his face, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips against Draco's.
He pulled away, and Draco's eyes were as wide as humanly possible. Harry noticed the clock above the mantle. It was twelve o'clock.
"Happy Christmas, Draco."