In which Harry Potter has twenty-five days to gather the courage to tell Draco Malfoy he loves him. This, of course, includes all of the cheesiest, cutest tropes I can put in, including Truth or Dare, mittens, pink noses from the cold, snowflakes, walks in Hogsmeade in the snow, snowball fights, and, of course,  enchanted mistletoe.

Oh my god, I'm so excited to write this book today is November 17, 2019, but of course, this chapter will be published on December 1.

Each chapter will be its own day counting up to Christmas and will be accompanied by its own Christmas song

I really hope you guys enjoy this because I'm so excited to write it

Love, 

Nyx

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Song- It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

"Watch out!" Harry yelled, grabbing the back of Hermione's shirt and yanking her backward.

"Wh- Harry!"

"Sorry, Mione, but I'd rather not kiss you," Harry said, pointing up at the sprig of shimmering silver mistletoe at the top of the doorway. Hermione's eyes followed and widened.

"I'm going to find out who keeps putting those up, and I'm going to kill them."

Harry just laughed, carefully stepping around the slightly shimmering circle on the floor of the mistletoe's range. Hermione followed, glaring at the enchanted plant.

"Damn," Ron said when they sat down. "I got caught with Seamus, I was hoping you two would get screwed over too."

"Hey, a kiss from me isn't that bad!" Seamus protested, laughing.

"It is when I have to witness it," Dean grumbled, stabbing his mashed potatoes harder than necessary.

"Darling, you know I didn't mean it!" Seamus was still grinning.

Dean pouted. "You really didn't have to kiss him for that long."

"I was making the most of the moment!"

Ron just shook his head, looking traumatized. Harry patted his shoulder, attempting to contain his laughter.

"So. When ya gonna ask him out?" Neville asked easily, leaning across the table.

Harry sighed. "Why do we always bring this up?"

"Because you're such a pathetic gay crisis," Hermione answered.

"Like you're not," Harry shot back. "And I'm bi."

Hermione tilted her head in acknowledgment. "But I don't go on and on and on about it."

"'Who let her have such beautiful eyes?' 'Oh my God, her smile!' 'Jesus Christ, I'm gonna fucking lose it if she smirks one more fucking time," Harry mocked.

"Shut up!" Hermione shouted, smacking his arm. "Alright, fine, I'm out. Neville?"

"When ya gonna ask him out?" Neville repeated.

"When you ask Blaise out," Harry mumbled, thinking it would end the conversation.

Boy, was he wrong.

Neville's grin was positively predatory as he stood from the table, walking toward the Slytherin table.

"What is he doing?" Harry asked, panicking.

"Why Harry, I believe he's holding you to your promise," Dean said with a wicked grin.

Harry watched in mild horror as Neville lightly tapped Blaise Zabini on the shoulder, biting his lip nervously. Neville said something and Blaise stood up, looking confused. Neville took his hand and said a few things, blushing as Blaise's eyes went wider and wider. Eventually, Neville shifted from side to side and said something else. After a pause, Blaise blushed deeply, smiling and nodding.

A few minutes later, Neville returned to their table with a grin and Blaise Zabini holding his hand.

Your turn, he mouthed, and Harry could only stare at him in shock.

Suddenly, Parkinson and Malfoy dropped down next to Blaise.

"I'm not even sure what just happened, but it looks like we've migrated," Parkinson said, seeming confused.

"Stupid fucking inter-house unity," Malfoy muttered.

Harry couldn't help but agree.

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

Apparently, Blaise wasn't just at their table for lunch. He didn't even hesitate at dinner, turning straight toward the Gryffindor table and sitting next to Neville. Parkinson and Malfoy remained frozen for a moment before they cautiously joined.

"Don't take this as any form of acquaintanceship," Parkinson grumbled.

"However, I am extending acquaintanceship," Blaise added brightly. "Hello, I'm Blaise, I'm seventeen, I'm extremely gay, just trying to make it through eighth year without being murdered, and I'd like nothing more than to be accepted into your little group of friends."

Without hesitation, Hermione stuck out her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Blaise. I'm Hermione, I'm also seventeen and also extremely gay, just trying to get a girlfriend for eighth year, and I'd like nothing more than to be your friend."

Blaise brightly shook her hand, and Parkinson stared at her.

"You're a lesbian?" she asked, almost whispering the question.

"Erm... yes." Hermione was now obviously uncomfortable with Parkinson's undivided attention on her. "Have been for a while."

Parkinson seemed to be trying to register that as Ron leaned forward and shook Blaise's hand.

"Hello, I'm Ron, eighteen, asexual and aromantic, attempting to figure out how to sneak in Fred and George for eighth year, and I'd love to be your friend."

"Asexual buddies!" Luna cheered, coming out of nowhere, high-fiving Ron.

"Aren't you dating Ginevra?" Blaise asked. 

"You ever call me Ginevra again and I'll make you asexual through force, and yes she is," Ginny adds as Luna drops onto her lap.

"Are you asexual?" Blaise asked.

Ginny popped a grape in her mouth. "Nope."

"So... you have a relationship without sex?"

Ginny grinned, raising one eyebrow. "I never said that."

"Ewww!" Ron shrieked, covering his ears. "Ginny, stop!"

Blaise turned to Neville, a sort of desperation in his eyes. "Are you asexual?"

"Nope." Neville was still grinning.

"Thank god."

"Would you date me if I was?"

"Yeah, but I'd have to jerk off a lot more."

Ron shrieked and covered his ears again, and Neville just laughed.

Blaise's eyes turned to Harry, and he raised one eyebrow, holding out his hand in an offering.

Harry shook it.

"Harry, seventeen, bisexual disaster, trying to find a boyfriend for eighth year, and I'd really like to be your friend."

"Everyone's fucking gay today," Ginny sighed. "Where are all the straight people?"

"Ginny, you're gay."

She huffed slightly, waving her hand dismissively. "Details."

Harry turned to Parkinson, holding out his hand and raising his eyebrows in challenge.

She gave him a sort of little smirk, before shaking his hand. "Fine, Potter. Pansy, seventeen, pansexual, please don't make a pun about that, wanting any sort of romantic bond for eighth year, and I guess I'll consider being your friend."

He smiled at her, and she gave him a small sort of grin back.

He turned to Malfoy and held out his hand.

Malfoy stared stoically at him. "Draco, seventeen, gay, wanting to lay low for eighth year, and I'm not going to be your friend."

Harry's lips parted in surprise and hurt, and he watched Malfoy stand and walk away.

He felt a little piece of his heart shatter.