When The Sword Falls - (A Drarry Fanfic)

A Message

A/N: The thing about fanfics is that I never can find a way to end them. I hate endings. Bear with me. PS, none of the characters are mine.

Harry

It was nearing Christmas, and I found myself more agitated by the second, and for multiple reasons.

One: I didn't know what the frickle frackle to get Draco for Christmas, and two: he wasn't giving me any hints or clues either.

In fact, the boy seemed oblivious to the oncoming festive season.

I'd tried, nevertheless, to figure out what he might want - I left Christmas brochures lying around, started humming Christmas carols whenever I was bored (something he grew increasingly amused by, but never did he question me about it) - even going as far as forcing Ron and Hermione into wearing Weasley sweaters - lovingly knitted by Mrs Weasley - with me.

"I won't forgive you for this, mate," Ron had hissed when I'd forcefully fit his head into the frilly maroon sweater his mother had sent him.

"Oh, come on, Ron, it's not that bad -"

"Try telling that to the frills and lace," he'd snapped, before storming out of the dorm room, absolutely red in the face.

And nothing had gotten through to Draco - he was as blind as a bat when it came to subtle hinting.

After days of bearing no results, Hermione gave me an idea.

"Why not try mistletoe?"

I'd been busy looking for Christmas cookie recipes in countless of cooking books I'd found in the library, hoping that by baking some gingerbread men I'd be able to garner Draco's attention. I stared up at Hermione, wondering why I hadn't thought of trying that before.

"That's not a half-bad idea," I said.

Hermione sniffed. "Thank you, I do try."

I grinned at her, shutting the cooking book closed.

**************

Neville blinked at me, a little nervously.

"You want - what?"

"Mistletoe," I repeated.

"Right. And - um - what for?"

"A surprise."

Neville nodded. "Uh-huh. Okay. And you came to me why?"