Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Under The Mistletoe ❯ Mistletoe ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Under the Mistletoe

Author: Elli Cole

Rating: T

Status: One-Shot; complete.

Feedbacks: Greatly appreciated.

Summary: Under the mistletoe they meet.

A/N: I am back! Finally, with months of absence, I'm trying to get on my feet once again and return to my writing. Hopefully, my readers will still be here and support me all the way. Please enjoy this little Christmas fic I've cooked up.

 

oOo

 

She sleeps.

 

Under the warmth of her covers, she turns and turns, sweat breaks from her heated body. Her hands trails from her forehead to her hair and tangles itself with her brown mane. Another turn and a moan, her eyes open widely. She looks around groggily and tiredly sits up from her bed. She stretches and groans as she felt the crackling of her bones.

 

She did not sleep well.

 

She rubs her eyes and blinks. Her roommates are still asleep. She stands up from the bed and limps towards the door. Down the stairs, she sees a pair snogging on the couch, basking the heat of the lit fireplace.

 

She rolls her eyes. “Please remove yourselves from the common room. It's already past curfew, you should be asleep.”

 

The pair gasps and distances themselves. Her eyes almost widened as she sees the familiar shock of red and the black mane of her friend. “Ginny, Harry, why are you still up?”

 

Ginny blushes and just shakes her head; Harry clears his throat and manages to speak out, “early Christmas cheer.”

 

Ginny giggles and Harry nervously chuckles. Hermione counted calmly in her head, rubbing her forehead. “Go. Now.”

 

The couple scrambles away from the sleep-deprived prefect and earnestly mumbles a `good night' as they walk to their dorm rooms. Hermione gives them a nod and lets out a yawn. Her stomach, unexpectedly, grumbles. She blushes and looks around.

 

Nobody is there.

 

She sighs and walks towards the portrait. It swings open and she walks outside the cold corridors of Hogwarts. She hugs herself tightly and releases a sigh. Christmas has come. The snow started to fall down on the grounds of Hogwarts as she looks outside the window.

 

The soft pitter-patters of her feet echoed through the walls of the school as she strolls toward the painting of a fruit bowl. She looks at it and remembers what Fred had said to her before they left Hogwarts.

 

“Just tickle the pear, Hermione.” Fred sniggers. “The house-elves will do the rest.”

 

Hermione sighs and tickles the pear. She hears it giggle and the portrait opens with a squeak. The sweet aromas of the delicacies of the house-elves fill the air as she takes a step forward inside the kitchen. The rustling stops suddenly and she notices that all the house-elves are looking at her.

 

“Miss!” Dobby shouts. “Friend of Harry Potter!”

 

Hermione looks around and spots the elf tumble to her, the house-elves continue with their busy works. “Dobby, may I have something to eat?”

 

Dobby's eyes lit up and he squeals. “Dobby is at your service, friend of Harry Potter! Dobby cooks good meals for you.”

 

He quickly dispatches the utensils he is holding and races towards the hot oven. “Dobby cooks for Miss.” He says urgently to the house-elf who is tending his cake. “Maria wait?”

 

The house-elf nods and stands back, waiting for Dobby to finish.

 

While Hermione waits for her meal, she starts to look around the kitchen. The smell of the food wafts over to her nose and she sniffs. She feels her mouth watering; she closes her eyes and licks her lips.

 

“And what are you doing here at this time of hour, Granger?”

 

That familiar sneer, she thinks. That scent… that voice.

 

She shudders.

 

Malfoy.

 

“What do you want?” She asks, gritting her teeth.

 

She feels his breath against her cheek as he whispers, “I want nothing from you, mudblood.” He snarls gently and turns away.

 

She opens her eyes, bloodshot, and glares at him. “And what are you doing here, Malfoy? Looking for a midnight shag? Have you lowered your standards to beg for house-elves for a good fuck?”

 

Draco, taken aback, stands there with his mouth hanging open. Did he just hear Granger say fuck? He shakes his head and thinks, he must be dreaming.

 

“Granger, if you must know, I am here for a snack.” He smirks. “And Pansy wants some for herself as well.”

 

Hermione bites her lips. “I don't care who you are shagging, Malfoy. I have no interest for your sex life or whatever life you have.” She turns on her heels and walks towards Dobby. He smiles at her.

 

“Miss, Dobby almost ready.” He squeaks and continues his baking.

 

She sighs and spots a seat. She sits down and lingers some more, taking in the presence of the blond-haired Slytherin. He taps his foot impatiently on the stone floor of the kitchen.

 

“If you don't hurry up, Merlin help me, you filthy house-elf, I will wring your neck and throw you off the Astronomy Tower.” Draco threatens the frightened Dobby as he works faster.

 

Hermione cannot take it anymore. She stands up and pokes Draco on the shoulder. He scowls at her and slaps her hand away. “Okay, you overbearing little git,” Hermione scathes. “You cannot talk to Dobby that way or else I will hex you till you rot, Malfoy.” She scorns him as she pulls out her wand in the ready.

 

He scoffs and puffs out his chest. “Aim for it, mudblood. Can you do it?”

 

She grits her teeth in anger but lowers her wand. “I am not going to stoop to your level, ferret.” She puts her wand back in her dress pocket and sits down. “It's Christmas,” she mutters darkly. “And you're still being the same old prat.”

 

“And that makes that bad because?” He drawls unenthusiastically.

 

“You'll never really get the chance to be happy.” She whispers as she stands up; Dobby nears her. “Is it done, Dobby?”

 

Dobby nods his head frantically. “Yes, Miss. Dobby made it special for Harry Potter's friend.” He reaches out and gives her a tray of food.

 

Draco, with one last scoff, orders Dobby for a hot meal.

 

Hermione leaves the kitchen without another word, too dismayed to see Dobby get orders from the Slytherin. It is not fair for the house-elf, he had already escaped the wrath of the Slytherin in the past but until now, he haunts him.

 

The poor creature.

 

She begins her journey once more, back to the Gryffindor Common Room. She walks slowly, afraid for the tray to tip over. If she only she would notice the dark shadow that walks behind, she would feel the warmth of breath across her neck. She shivers as she feels it contrast with the coolness of the flurry outside.

 

A step she takes.

 

One the other makes.

 

She stops by the end of the corridor, the portrait of the fat lady in pink grazes her eyes. She stares up and notes the mistletoe above her. She shakes her head and taps the portrait once. Twice. The lady in the painting did not stir.

 

She sighs warily and opens her mouth when a chuckle drifts to her ears. She turns around hastily and purses her lips. He stands there, his back against the wall, arms crosses over his chest and his familiar smirk rests on his lips.

 

“Couldn't even bother the fat lady, mudblood?” He drawls nonchalantly. “Gryffindors are such martyrs.”

 

Hermione clenches her fists on the tray and sighs. “Leave me alone, Malfoy. I am tired and I need some rest.” Her stomach grumbles abruptly, she blushes. “And apparently, hungry too.” She mutters.

 

Draco pushes himself off the wall and walks towards Hermione. Her eyes widen in confusion and start to back away slowly. Her heart beats increases rapidly as he takes each step with leisure thought. She takes a sharp intake of breath when his nose barely touches hers.

 

“Scared, Granger?” He whispers, his fingers weaves through her hair.

 

“Disgusted, Malfoy.” She retorts back, feeling shivers run through her spine. She slaps his hands away from her and pushes him away. “Have you forgotten that you're dealing with a mudblood here?”

 

“Where's your Christmas spirit, Granger?” Draco laughs, a pure rich laugh which almost made Hermione melt. “Here I thought that we were supposed to spread the holiday cheer.”

 

“I've had enough of a cheer today,” she scrambles away from him and taps the portrait behind her. “Mistletoe.” She says to the fat lady who sleeps without trouble. “Mistletoe!” She repeats.

 

“I do indeed see the mistletoe, Granger,” Draco smirks, his eyes gleaming with mirth. Above them, there, rests the mistletoe that she noticed earlier.

 

Hermione raises an eyebrow. “Do you think I'll believe that you'll actually consider kissing me, Malfoy?”

 

“Why not?” Draco shrugs his cloak billows behind him. “It is Christmas, after all.”

 

Hermione did not have the chance to react as Draco sweeps her up from her feet, swoops down and captures her lips in his own in a lip-lock. Hermione, too shocked, feels the sudden warmth that spread throughout her body. His soft lips gently rest on hers as little by little, he takes pressure on them.

 

She can feel it.

 

The hot trails of tears fall from her eyes moisten her cheeks. She knows it is her first kiss. She knows it is Draco Malfoy. She knows that now that he stole her first kiss, she'll engrave it in her memory forever.

 

Draco Malfoy is her first kiss.

 

But nothing more can be attained from him.

 

She breaks it off, wipes her lips, and stares at him through blurry eyes. He smiles genuinely and caresses her cheeks with his thumb, rubbing the paths her tears made.

 

“Happy Christmas, Hermione.” He whispers softly.

 

And she knows; he did not deceive her with his hidden smiles and grins. He simply is scared to admit that he had fallen. In the deep, forbidden hole he dug up before, he had fallen and wants her to reach out to him and save him.

 

She turns away. “Happy Christmas, Draco.”

 

The portrait door opens with the lady in pink smiling down at them through her half-closed eyes, witnessing the first Christmas she actually feels happy.