Weasley Wizarding Wheezes is proud to bring you Kisstletoe!  Guaranteed to liven up your Yuletide events.  Hang it in an archway or above an open door and watch as those caught beneath celebrate the holiday spirit.  No refunds or exchanges.

Fred and George Weasley, purveyors of all things mischievous and merry-making, had developed a form of holiday mistletoe that made any two people caught beneath it posh passionately.  The charm lasted only a short amount of time, thankfully to some.  The Kisstletoe made Filch’s banned items list immediately and therefore, it was hanging all over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry within days.

Draco Malfoy hated the stuff.  Everywhere he went, there were sprigs of Kisstletoe and girls waiting to ambush him.  From First Years to Seventh Years, it seemed as if he’d been snogged by nearly all the females in school.  He’d even gotten caught unawares by Professor Sinistra, and while it had earned him extra credit, she was a teacher. 

Draco had gotten snogged by a few of the boys, as well, though they were few and far between.  Most of the males at the school were careful not to walk beside their mates and had permanent cricks in their necks from looking up.  A couple disgusting encounters with some strangely courageous Hufflepuffs caused Draco to start incinerating any Kisstletoe he came across.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t enjoyed some of the kissing, but he was tired and annoyed with it already.  It was difficult to get from one place to another without being attacked and he was constantly late to everything.  He really hated that his hair got mussed, too. 

Torches flamed to life as Draco patrolled the empty halls as part of his prefect duties.  He burned any Kisstletoe he saw, glad that there were only a few days remaining before the winter holidays.  He’d managed to remain unmauled all week, thus far, and soon he would be going home, away from the loathsome sight of snogging pairs. 

Draco shuddered in memory of Granger and Longbottom poshing outside the Great Hall.  Draco had skipped dinner after seeing that horrifying scene.  He’d holed up in his dormitory, fighting nausea and waiting for his duties to begin. 

Stepping through an archway, Draco spotted one of the nasty plants hanging overhead.  It had been hidden above the walkway, to trap unsuspecting victims coming through from the kitchens. The Weasleys should be cursed for creating such a nuisance. 

Draco drew his wand, ready to cast incendio, but the spell froze in his throat.  His wand lowered and he turned slowly. 

Harry Potter was standing directly behind him.

In the back of his mind, Draco wondered where Potter had come from, but that didn’t distract him from the thought that Potter had the sweetest looking mouth, and didn’t he want to taste it?

Potter licked his lips and Draco had no will to resist when those lips were suddenly pressed against his own.  His eyelids fluttered shut and his wand clattered to the floor.  Broad hands thrust into his hair, holding his head captive.  Soft lips rubbed back and forth, closing and parting against his mouth.  Draco’s arms encircled Potter, hands splayed across Potter’s back, pulling him closer.

Potter’s glasses bumped against Draco’s face, as he slanted his mouth and plunged his tongue past Draco’s lips.  Draco was drawn into a tussle, sucking, rubbing, flicking, and tangling tongues.  He followed as Potter retreated, lapping at the contours of Potter’s mouth.  Potter tasted of apple crisp and pumpkin juice. 

A soft sound rose from Potter’s throat and Draco echoed it.  Fingers tightened in Draco’s hair.  Potter pressed himself firmly against Draco, rising up on his toes.  Draco held him tighter, as if trying to merge their bodies.  His hips rocked against Potter’s and felt a hard bulge dig into him, equal to that of his own.

Draco’s lips tingled.  His stomach was doing aerials.  Bright spots danced headily behind his closed eyelids.  His brain had turned to mush and he could think of nothing except how good it felt to be kissing Potter.

And then, as suddenly as he’d lost his senses, they came flooding back to him.  He was kissing Potter.

The charm broke for Potter at the same time.  He stumbled back a half-step, breathing heavily through his mouth.  His lips were puffy and red, his cheeks flushed.  Huge green eyes stared wildly at Draco through askew glasses.

Draco was gobsmacked.  His own eyes felt large in his head as he returned the panicked stare.  His mouth tingled still.  His face felt hot.  His y-fronts were uncomfortable.  He couldn’t move.

Then, slowly, as if pulled by invisible strings, Potter’s hand rose and he smoothed Draco’s hair into place.

Draco sucked in a sharp breath.  Potter snatched his hand back and his face became bright red.  He bent, grabbed something from the floor, and rushed off down the hall.  Draco saw him vanish in a shimmer of material.

Potter had an invisibility cloak.  Potter had kissed him.

Draco’s stomach flipped again, and it felt nothing like nausea.  He also felt the same thrill snaking up his spine when diving on his broom.  And his lips still tingled.

Draco looked up at the Kisstletoe.  Maybe it wasn’t such a nuisance, after all.


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