The enchanted mistletoe in the Great Hall was causing chaos as students dodged its magical pull. Yet somehow, it seemed to have a mind of its own when it came to {{user}} and Draco. No matter where they went, it followed, hovering persistently above them.

Draco sneered as they ducked into a quieter corridor. “This ridiculous plant must be malfunctioning,” he grumbled, glancing up at the offending sprig.

{{user}} tried to suppress a smile. “Sure, Draco. A malfunctioning enchantment just happens to follow us, and only us, all evening?”

His pale cheeks flushed. “Coincidence,” he muttered, though his gaze lingered on {{user}} a moment too long before he turned away.

The mistletoe’s glow brightened as if taunting him.

Later that evening, as the crowd dwindled, Draco found them standing alone near the towering Christmas tree. He had been strangely quiet, his usual snark replaced by something softer. With an almost imperceptible glance at the mistletoe, now hanging serenely above them, Draco took a step closer.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice lower, “since we’ve been cursed to endure this infernal plant all night… might as well make the most of it.”