I know that this is not how the Christmas on the sixth book/movie, but I needed to tweak it to make this story possible.

This is a slow build chapter. I was originally going to make it sorter but thought that it was too forced this way. It could happen faster, but I like to see the struggle and build-up to the climax. I don't intend to write more than one or two more chapters.

Disclaimer: I don't own the picture. I tried to find the original source but found too many sources to know for certain.

Winter Spell

The window fogged as Harry sighed against it. Snow fell steadily outside. The only sounds in the room were Ron's snores, who had passed out after a candy fueled crash. A pity given it was barely five in the afternoon. But the boy snored heavily, a sign that he would be out for the next couple of hours, if not straight until tomorrow.

After a few futile attempts to humor himself, Harry got up and wandered out of his room. He walked aimlessly through the halls. They were deserted for the most part, with the rare student here or there.

He walked aimlessly. Even after almost six years in Hogwarts, he found himself finding new areas and hallways from time to time. He turned down a dimly lit corridor when he spotted Draco Malfoy heading towards him. He stopped, considering just turning around and walking away fast enough to lose him, but then he decided that he didn't need to go anywhere else just because Malfoy would cross his path. So, he resumed his walking.

Draco felt as if his heart skipped ab beat at the sight of Harry. He thought he'd be out of Hogwarts with Weasley and his family clustered up in their burrow. He'd never spent Christmas here before. But recent circumstances had left him with the desire to keep as much space between his family and home and himself as possible. And now, completely alone, he'd wanted to escape the misery of a solitary room for just a few hours. It was just his luck that the one person he'd find was Potter. Still, he schooled his features into a nonchalant face as he approached Harry.

When he was a few meters away from him, he spoke. "Got abandoned this Christmas, Potter? Mama Weasley has no spare breadcrumbs for you this year?"

Harry's face visibly twitched and Draco smirked.

"What about you? Your parents finally decided you're too much of a prat and wanted some peace from you?"

The smirk instantly fell from Draco's face. He considered whipping out his wand. He wouldn't be surprised if they were the only people in the castle on a Christmas afternoon. He could hex him, but the last thing he needed right now was to have Dumbledore's eye on him. So, he relaxed his hand and planned on shoving Harry when he passed him by. And he would have, had his body not frozen when he was just two feet away from the boy. His eyes shot wide as he looked himself over and tried to move. His face snapped at Harry with a glare.

"You better release whatever spell you cast, Potter, before I practice my hexing on you."

He tried to reach for his wand, but his hand didn't obey him. It wasn't that he couldn't move his hand. He could move it, just not to his wand. It hovered just above it, but his fingers refused to grip it.

"Me?" Harry yelled. "That's very funny, Malfoy. Now knock it off, or I'll knock you out till New Years!"

Draco frowned and realized that Harry seemed just as alarmed as he was. They stared at each other for a long moment, assessing if indeed the other was telling the truth, before going back to struggling to set themselves free from whatever was holding them in place.

Then, a golden light shone above them, snapping their attention towards it. From the light materialized a mistletoe with a silvery bell in the center, and a female voice, ethereal and wispy, began to chant.

Under the mistletoe fair

Two souls will lay their hearts bare

Their hearts ill-fortune divided

Now fates unite decided

Twelve tolls will set them free

With love's kiss 'twas meant to be

The boys stared wide-eyed at the mistletoe before looking at each other with mirroring horrified expressions.

"No!" they both yelled in unison.

"This has to be some kind of prank set up by a student, or maybe Peeves. We have to find a way to break it."

"For once, we agree, Potter."

"Well, any ideas?"

Draco looked at the mistletoe hard. He'd never heard of anything like this. He tried to reach for his wand again, but no matter how hard he tried, his hands seemed to clumsily slip by it over and over. He growled in frustration.

"Well don't just stand there staring, Potter! Try to get your bloody wand!"

"Don't you think I'm trying?!"

Both began to furiously struggle against the magic that held them. Harry decided that if his hand wouldn't go to his wand, maybe his wand would go to his hand. He began to sway his hip towards his hand.

Draco stopped struggling and stared at him.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Trying to get to my wand!"

Draco laughed, but stopped immediately. It was the first time he'd genuinely laughed in so long. And even if it had been at Potter's expense, it hadn't precisely been in a cruel manner, not really. He was horrified to realize that he had found Harry's ridiculous attempts endearing. It wasn't the first time he'd found himself endeared or even attracted to the boy. And every time he did, he viciously squashed those thoughts and feelings, just as he'd do now.

"You look utterly ridiculous."

"Do you have a better idea then?" Harry yelled in his face and seemed all the more determined to get to his wand. He swung his hips as hard as he could, and in the process, flung himself into Draco.

Instinctively, Draco opened his arms and caught Harry, exhaling sharply as the boy's weight hit him full on.

"You buffoon," he wheezed before pushing Harry away. He tried to take a step back but couldn't. He was now barely a foot away from Harry. His face loomed over the shorter boy's close enough to see the green of his eyes. He'd been up in Harry's face before, but always in a fight. He'd never had the chance to properly see his eyes, and he'd be damned if he didn't admit that they were the most beautiful eyes he'd seen.

Draco had to nearly wrestle his gaze away from Harry's eyes and hoped the dim glow of the torches hid his blush.

Harry stilled when he noticed the way Draco seemed to stare into his eyes. He had to have imagined it, because there was no way he'd ever look at him with anything other than hatred and contempt for any suffering he could inflict upon him.

Harry shifted away as much as possible, which left him standing close enough to need to lift his face slightly to see Draco's face. And wasn't that the most infuriating thing, to have to be looked down upon by the one person who thrived in making himself superior to him? But when he looked up at Draco, he found him looking down at him, not with his usual sneer, but with discomfort.

A long moment passed as both silently tried to stare at anything but each other. But the moment stretched to several, awkward minutes, and finally, the silence became downright painful.

"Someone," Harry tried, "someone will pass eventually. A professor or someone who can get one."

Both knew how unlikely it was that someone would venture through this corridor that led only to classrooms. Which suddenly begged the question.

"What were you doing, Malfoy?"

"That's none of your business, Potter," Draco spat, though there was a considerable less amount of poison behind his words, as if he was replying in autopilot.

"Well, it's weird that you'd be hanging around the classrooms on a day like this."

"Weren't you just headed the same way? I could ask you the same thing."

Harry knew he had a point. He could have just as well been aimlessly walking as he had.

More long minutes of silence stretched between them. Occasionally one would try to move away or to reach for his wand, but all attempts were futile.

"So," Harry said, almost painfully, but the silence was starting to kill him. "You um…" Harry waved a hand, nearly begging Draco to reply. To his surprise, Draco snorted a laugh, one that sounded genuinely amused.

"You will give yourself a stroke if you continue to think so hard, Potter."

This awkwardness will give me a stroke! Harry thought.

"There has to be a way to break this spell without having to…" Harry trailed off, the words too ridiculous to even consider.

"For one thing, we are not in love."

"You don't bloody say?"

"I mean that the message declared the that the two standing beneath the mistletoe were meant to kiss with love meant to be, you idiot! So, it occurs to me that perhaps finding a way to state that we are, in fact, not in love, it might release the spell."

"That's brilliant!" Harry cried out, and Draco hated the sudden surge of pride caused by Harry's words. It wasn't that he had never been called brilliant. Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and a few other students always tried to butter him up with praises. He had enjoyed them for some time, but now they seemed like ass-kissing more than genuine. Harry's exclamation had felt genuine in a way he didn't think he'd felt before.

"So, how do we do it?" Harry asked, wide-eyed and a little too eager. Draco groaned inwardly, hating how absolutely endearing the boy could be. He hated himself so deeply he could have punched himself. He might just after he got out of this.

"I don't know, Potter. I've never talked to a charmed Mistletoe."

"Right. Um, we are not in love!" Harry yelled at the floating charm. "At all! In fact, it's pretty much the opposite. So please, let us go."

Draco looked at the charm and decided he might need to confirm it to the charm, and to himself. So, he spoke. "What he said. We are in no way romantically involved. Release us."

Nothing. They tried to move back, but magic held them fast.

A horrible thought dawned on Draco. What if the mistletoe sensed his unwelcomed thoughts for Harry? The charm had spoken of hushed love and a rift that divided them. But certainly, what he felt for Harry ̶ he shuddered at the word felt ̶ was nothing near love. But what if…

Draco exhaled hard. This was beginning to weigh him down.

"I need to sit."

"Do you need my permission for that?"

Draco sneered. "I don't need to have your crotch on my face when I sit. So, you need to sit with me."

"Would it kill you to ask nicely instead of being a prat about everything?"

"Just sit down, Potter."

"Fine."

Awkwardly, they managed to sit cross-legged to avoid having more than just their knees touch one another's.

"If I find out who did this, I will curse them hard enough that their unborn children will feel it."

Harry snorted. In reality, he'd also like to hex whoever got him into this situation with the worst person possible.

After that, they spent the next two hours in silence, hoping that anyone would wander by. But no one came, and darkness began to fill the castle. Night had begun to fall. By this time, Harry had decided that yelling for help was their best option. But after near half an hour of doing so, his throat had gone raw, and Draco's head was pounding, which had been what really concluded Harry's yelling.

Two more hours had gone by. The torches had dimmed enough to cast warm, orange light on them.

Draco had already resigned himself to being stuck here till morning. But he hadn't counted on the heavy sleepiness that began to creep on him. He raised his knees and burrowed his head between his arms and drifted to sleep.

Harry didn't know how Draco could sleep, not in this situation, and certainly not in this uncomfortable sitting position. But with him asleep, the awkwardness was considerably reduced. He wondered if Ron would come out to look for him if he awoke to find him gone. But even if he did, the chance that he'd find him in this dark corner of the castle was astronomically small.

His legs had begun to fall asleep, so he tried to shift to the side, and managed to twist just enough that he could stretch his legs without crossing them with Draco's. Now that the boy was asleep, Harry studied him. The side of his face was visible, and Harry realized that this was the first time he stared at him where he wasn't sneering nor had a cruel smile. In fact, he looked frighteningly boyish, even innocent.

Draco's face twitched and his features became tight. He was having a nightmare, Harry realized. Draco's twitching continued, and a small, scared whimper crossed his lips.

"No, please," Draco mumbled in a small cry.

Harry's heart froze painfully in his chest. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Draco could possibly be dreaming. And he felt weirdly compelled to attempt to comfort him. But he knew better than that. Draco would blow his hand off with a curse if he so much as laid it on his shoulder. And yet, the urge to do something grew and grew.

Without warning, Draco shifted, as if called by Harry's body warmth, and he leaned to the side towards him and nestled his head on Harry's shoulder.

Bloody Merlin, I'm dead now, Harry thought. Draco would never accept that this was his own doing. Whether he woke him up or let the boy wake up, he'd still find himself in this position.

Draco whimpered again. This time, so close to Harry, he felt the tremor of his body against his own. It was too much, and before he knew it, his hand raised and softly landed against Draco's head. When he realized his action, he hesitated, but then began to gently caress the boy's hair. It wasn't long before a small sigh marked the end of his nightmare, and his body relaxed.

Harry continued to stroke his hair even after the nightmares seemed to subside. He told himself that it was only to keep Draco calm and asleep longer, because having him awake would only cause more awkward silences, and he didn't think he could stand the entire night of that. Still, a small voice at the back of his head tried to make him think of how nice Draco's body fit against his, and of how soft his hair was in his hands. The thoughts horrified him. It wasn't because Draco was a man. He'd realized, albeit recently, that he could fancy some men. He'd caught himself staring at a boy or two. And now, he remembered that he'd also caught himself staring at Malfoy. He'd eviscerated any thought that contradicted that this was out of the habit of carefully watching Malfoy for trouble. But now, watching Draco's relaxed, sleeping form, he felt something stir in him that made his stomach flutter.

Too caught up in observing Draco, Harry didn't notice the shift in his body before his eyes fluttered open.

Draco had begun to drift into consciousness when he felt a pleasant warmth against his body and a lovely sensation on his head. His first thought was that he was dreaming. Then, he remembered the situation he was in, and decided he had to definitely been dreaming. But his eyes opened and he looked up to see Harry's face inches away from his own and realized that Harry had been caressing his head.

Harry froze completely when he realized that Draco was staring up at him. Embarrassment lit up within him like a flame.

"I… you… you move and..." he stuttered dumbly, but Draco didn't respond. In fact, he made no movement at all. Harry had expected for Draco to punch him in the face in outrage, but the boy simply stared at him with an expression that he was too close to longing. But that was just plain maddens to consider.

After a few more seconds, Draco slowly straightened, immediately feeling an emptiness as Harry's warmth left him.

"I'm tired, Potter," was all Draco said. Harry thought that his words sounded more like he was tired of something else other than physical tiredness, but he wouldn't bring that up. "Let's just do this and get it over with."

Harry blinked, dumbfounded. "Y-you mean, let's kiss?"

Draco nodded. "We have no idea when someone will pass by. For all we know, most professors will be out on holiday. It could be days before someone finds us."

He had a point, Harry knew. Yet as this excuse tried to take the lead, he felt a small tug within his chest, an excitement that came out of nowhere and seemed determined to fill his head with dizzying anticipation.

Harry barely managed a nod. "Right. Um, how do we do this?"

"Don't tell me you've never kissed anyone, Potter?" Draco said with a mocking smile.

"Of course I have! I just meant- argh!" he groaned in frustration. Why did he feel excited again? He couldn't understand how this infuriating boy could cause in him anything other than annoyance.

"Well first off, we need to stand because this is not an appropriate position."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. As if anything right now could be an appropriate position. But he followed Draco to his feet.

They stared at each other for a moment, and Harry saw the hesitation in Draco's eyes. They did a few attempts at leaning in that ended in awkward back and forth movements.

Harry's hand came up but halted midway. "Just…" he said before reaching to hold Draco's nape and gently pulled him down as he tiptoed to reach him.

Draco's eyes widened as Harry tugged him down and their lips met. The moment they did, the mistletoe's bell above them began to chime. Two chimes in, they pulled away, their faces burning red. But then, the bell stopped chiming.

Draco swallowed hard and tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice failed him for a moment. "The… voice said at the twelfth chime. I believe, we need to continue for twelve bell chimes before we are free."

"Right," Harry barely whispered.

Draco took a step closer, letting his body be barely an inch from Harry's. He thought he'd imagined the way Harry's breath seemed to catch at the closeness, and decided that he wouldn't be the one to be pulled in this time, and leaned down to kiss Harry.

This time, as their lips met, their eyes closed. For the first few chimes, they stood awkwardly, but then their mouths relaxed against one another's. Draco held Harry's arms, and Harry stretched up, and in the process, closed the space between their bodies. Their chest touched, and suddenly, their bodies seemed to meld together. The kiss went from softly pressing their lips together to slowly moving against each other's. The tentative kisses slowly grew in boldness. Neither would ever be sure who parted their lips first, but as they did, their open mouths pressed against each other.

Their breaths hitched. Harry's hand came to rest on the back of Draco's head. He pulled him down. Draco didn't know when his hands had slipped from Harry's arms to his waist. All thoughts had been obliviated from his mind.

Their lips moved against each other far more comfortably than either could have imagined. There was a subtle urgency behind their movement. A need neither had known was there before. But perhaps more alarming was the sweetness, the desire and tenderness of the moment.

Neither of them knew how long they continued to kiss, unaware of the bell's silence. But eventually, they reluctantly pulled away a few steps.

The silence that fell between drilled a painful hole in Harry's chest. Draco looked at him as if he was equally ready to resume their kiss or bury this event in the deepest, most isolated grave he could find.

Harry's mind was racing to find the right words to say, but before he could, Draco walked past him. Harry turned to him and opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He watched Draco disappear into the darkness.

He stood there for a minute longer before he began his walk back to his dormitory. He walked as in a daze. The moment felt so surreal now, as if he'd been caught in some illusion charm.

When he made it to his room, Ron was still out cold. He laid himself on his bed. He couldn't help but think of what Draco might be doing now, if he was thinking of him.

Down in the dungeon, Draco laid on his bed. He did his best to keep his mind blank. He was good at that, at keeping all thoughts and feelings deep down where they couldn't hurt him. But this time it was different. Because it wasn't his mind that tried so hard to feel, it was his heart. And he wasn't at all used to that. His heart was dead, frozen to the point where emotions couldn't be felt. He'd made sure of that long ago, because if he allowed himself to feel along with letting himself think, he was sure he'd gone bloody mad. But now, his heart seemed to have a mind of its own. It hurt, but it was a hurt that he both craved and hated. It reminded him that he was, somehow, still human, still capable of feeling.

Draco pushed a pillow over his head, trying to drown the emotions away, before they drowned him. Merlin, what have I done?

I'm in love with this little story but am unsure if I will leave it as a bittersweet one shot or will add to it. I'll leave it as incomplete for now.