Draco stared at the words Harry had written, wondering if the day had finally come when the strange little muggle device had successfully played a trick on him. Harry was trapped by mistletoe. Never mind the fact that Harry was one of the most renowned wizards of all time and vanquished the dark lord to bring peace back to the wizarding world. He had finally been bested by a small and festive plant.
It was impossible not to smirk, and nearly just as difficult not text something back equally ridiculous. “About time. You’ve really needed your ego knocked down a peg.” He hadn’t though. The image of Harry looking quite pathetic and bored on their staircase, perhaps biding his time by staring at his socks was enough for Draco to feel more pity than snark. Well, about an even split of each, but that was enough to convince Draco he needed to go home and do something about it.
The only difficult thing was what he had to do in this situation. Kissing anyone should have been such a small, easy request, and then he and Harry could each return to the rest of their day pretending it hardly meant anything and never speak of it again.
Draco was beginning to consider this mistletoe a personal attack. What had he done to deserve kissing Harry in the comfort of their own home, where Harry actually needed him to do it as a favor and there were no strings attached even when Draco desperately wished there were? Nothing. He’d done absolutely nothing wrong ever in his life. He’d been a model student and human being. Draco found himself sinking into the brick wall outside of one of the shops. It was the farthest thing from a simple request.
But if kissing Harry was going to happen now, Draco might as well go for it. This was an opportunity that seldom came by, and if Harry still didn’t understand Draco's feelings afterwards, he would just tell him and possibly shake him until something clicked. Then that would be the end of it. Or the beginning, possibly.
Draco gave his phone a final determined look, then straightened up and apparated back to their home. The bags were dropped by the door, and Draco immediately looked up to see Harry and a very mocking mistletoe floating nearby. How long had he waited? If it were Draco, he might’ve just went with the idea that he clearly meant to be under the mistletoe for some dastardly plan to be determined in the future. Harry, however, had not taken the same approach.
“Don’t be daft,” he started, unraveling his scarf and hanging it by the door with his coat. Of course he would kiss him, he just needed a moment. And a push, which was what Harry thoughtfully provided with his next comment that had Draco staring at him in much the same way as when he’d received the texts for help.
“Sixth year?” Draco repeated, dumbstruck. “When you were seeing Ginny Weasley?” Now that was truly the outrageous bit, although Draco couldn’t exactly get worked up about it with Harry finally admitting to something and looking ridiculously sweet and uncertain about it.
“Merlin,” he muttered, making a show of looking agitated despite the smile that had crept over him when he glanced aside. “You’re ridiculous. D’you know it was second year for me? I was quite mature for my age.”
He’d reached the foot of the stairs now, heart racing as he reached out in some subconscious gesture that mimicked the other. It wasn’t the first time they’d been a bit too cozy with each other, although nights spent together as teenagers in a war was a little different. This had some similarities, though. The tension, the knowledge he was with someone he truly cared about, the way they both liked to be this close and stay there.
He leaned in for the kiss, hand at the edges of Harry’s jumper and tightening slightly. It certainly wasn’t a peck, but if Harry didn’t mind that… then maybe they could get lost in something that was a little less anxious and little more exciting and mad and wonderful. It was about time for something like this to happen, too.