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“Blaise,” Draco hissed into his fire, “I need you to bring any Christmas decorations that you can find over. By the end of today.”
Blaise blinked. “You don’t ever decorate for Christmas. I don’t ever decorate for Christmas. I’m not going to be able to find anything in my house.”
Draco glanced away from his fire. Even though his curtains were closed, he could see the bright, glimmering lights shining from across the street. He wanted to take it upon himself to march across the street himself and tear them down, but that would be childish. He wouldn’t resort to that.
“What’s this about, anyways?” Blaise asked, his elegant face twisting into a suspicious expression.
Draco shrugged. “Not important.” He shot the red and green lights another unhappy look.
“Draco…”
“Fine.” Draco sighed. “Potter and his friends decorated his house today. The lights are about to burn my eyes out. I need to beat him.”
This seemed to be along what Blaise had been expecting. Nodding, he said, “I’ll recruit Pansy. We’ll be over soon.”
Relieved that he had managed to get a team in place, Draco cut the connection with Blaise’s fireplace and sat back on his heels to examine the pile of tangled Christmas lights that he had found buried in the attic of his house. Blaise was right. He had never been one to get overly enthusiastic about the season, but now that Potter was… there was no way that he was going to let himself be outdone.
Ripping the end of the string from the mess, Draco began unravelling it, aiding the process with his wand whenever possible. After a good twenty minutes of struggling through the chaos of bright-coloured bulbs and wires, Draco was distracted by the arrival of Blaise and Pansy.
Pansy took one look at Draco, cross-legged in front of the lights, and shook her head, pursing her lips. “Oh, Draco, darling. How long have you been working on that?”
Draco (very wisely) stayed silent. He knew that Pansy would find a way to sort it out within seconds, and he was proven right when she lifted her wand easily and murmured a complicated-sounding spell. The lights untangled themselves instantly.
“Now,” she said, “Let’s see what we can do about your house.”
Between them, the duties seemed less daunting, and the exterior of Draco’s house was illuminated with festive decorations before they knew it. When the three of them stepped back to take in the effect of it in comparison with Potter’s house, just down the street, there was no competition. Draco’s clearly outshone the other house.
“Perfect,” Draco told them, crossing his arms with satisfaction. There was absolutely no way that anyone could prefer Potter’s house over his.
He woke up the next morning to find that Potter’s house had somehow, overnight, become twice as festive. Most noticeable, there was a dancing elf that was clearly magical. If any muggles walked by, Potter would almost certainly be put on trial for using magic publically. But, of course, he was Harry Potter. There was no way that he was going to get arrested.
“You want us to do what?”
Draco looked pleadingly at his friends. “Christmas is in only two days. There’d be no time for any of the aurors to actually investigate something as insignificant as this. I doubt they’d even notice.”
“Sure,” said Blaise, “Because it’s so hard to notice a model of Santa’s sled literally flying around your yard.”
“It’s no different than those things the muggles uses. Those… those…” Draco struggled to remember the word. “Remott… remoter…”
“Remote controlled machines,” Pansy finished helpfully, looking thoughtful. Draco nodded appreciatively at her.
“That.”
“If anyone found out, Draco, you’d be in Azkaban in no time. They’re just looking for any possible misconduct from you.”
Draco had to admit, they had a point. But then he caught sight of Potter’s yard again, the enchanted elf now spinning in circles. It had attracted a small crowd of muggles.
“If you’re not going to help,” he told them, “I’m going to do it anyways.”
Pansy sighed. “Of course we’re going to help. Give us a moment.”
Even though Draco had managed to get his sleigh flying around the yard, complete with a set of reindeer, his optimistic outlook on the decorating situation were dashed the next morning. He called up Pansy, who seemed to be expecting it this time.
“I have an idea,” she told him.
Blaise and Pansy showed up five minutes later, Pansy cupping a pile of something earth-toned in her hands. When Draco looked at her curiously, she held them out.
“Bits of pinecones. We’re going to grow a forest from these in your front yard.”
Draco, not fully understanding, followed her outside. She tossed a handful of the seeds out on the lawn, and pointed her wand in the direction of the scattered pieces. After reciting a quick spell, they begin to sprout before Draco’s eyes. Their growth accelerated by magic, it took only a couple of minutes before there were seven full-sized pine trees rooted deep into Draco’s lawn.
Pansy passed some seeds to the boys. “Go wild.”
Soon, the yard was packed with trees, grown so closely together that it was hard to tell where one ended and another started. There was only a small path leading towards the road, which suddenly looked as though it was actually a path from the depths of a forest. The enchanted sled that had been added the night before swooped low into the trees, and then reappeared a couple feet away in a burst of pine needles.
Pansy dusted off her hands. “Now we decorate.”
Snow began to fall during this session of decorating, and before long the forest was capped with piles of snow, weighing down the limbs of the trees. The colourful lights emitted a soft, warm glow from underneath the layer of snow.
Blaise, Pansy and Draco looked at the scene proudly. There was no possible way that Potter could beat that.
As it turns out, Potter was able to beat it.
Draco nearly cried when he emerged from his own forest the next morning to see a small model of Santa’s village, fully functional, taking up the majority of Potter’s yard. When he insisted that his friends come over, they exchanged looks.
“I don’t see how you’ll be able to outdo this one,” Blaise said.
“I can’t think of anything,” admitted Pansy, shrugging.
Frustrated, Draco stared at Potter’s yard. A miniature train was puffing around the yard, sending up puffs of smoke. “He’s doing this just to bother me.”
“And you’re doing this,” replied Blaise, gesturing to the mass of trees in Draco’s yard, “Just to bother him.”
Draco ignored him.
“If it really bothers you so much,” said Pansy, “You could always just sabotage Potter’s.”
Draco looked at her, and she stared very pointedly back. Slowly, Draco felt a small grin creep over his face. Oh, it would be wonderful to see Potter’s face when he woke up to find his house completely devoid of all decorations possible.
Pansy, accurately reading his expression, clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, I’m not up for defacing someone else’s property. But all the luck to you.”
That night, Draco crept down the street, armed with nothing but his wand. Once he made it in front of Potter’s property, he took a deep breath and stepped over the border. Standing amidst the conglomeration of ornaments and decorations, Draco raised his wands and Vanished the first string of Christmas lights, watching with satisfaction as the lights disappeared and darkness settled in that corner of the yard.
Spurred on by the pure delight of destruction, Draco Vanished the next couple of decorations in sight (including the godforsaken dancing elf), and then began to get more creative. Next, he cast an incendio and watched as the train went up in flames.
“You know,” came a voice from nearby, startling Draco, “Pine trees are much easier to set on fire than trains.”
Draco recovered outwardly, standing up straight and turning to face Potter. “Is that a threat?”
Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. Are you threatening my decorations?”
Draco scoffed. “Please. I’m doing this as a favour to the neighbourhood. At least my trees are classy.”
“I will admit,” said Harry, suddenly laughing, “The dancing elf was a little odd. It was Ron’s idea.”
Draco seemed to forget that he was standing on Potter’s lawn in the middle of the night, with the embers of a recent fire still glowing softly. He stepped closer, trying to get a better look at Harry’s face. “Ah. So you got help from Weasley and Granger?”
“Don’t act as though you didn’t get Zabini and Parkinson to help you,” said Harry.
Draco tried, unsuccessfully, to keep his face neutral. Harry saw right through him, shaking his head.
“Well. How about a truce?”
“A truce?”
“Yeah, Malfoy. We’ll admit that both of our yards are the best in the neighbourhood, and leave it at that.”
“And what if I decide not to accept that?”
“Well,” said Harry, his eyes searching Draco’s face, “I could always add something to the deal.”
Draco blinked. Harry’s eyes were a darker green than ever in the dim light. He stepped closer, and before Draco quite knew what was happening, he had managed to back Draco against the fence of his yard and they were kissing, the night dark and silent around them.
Draco pulled back long enough to mutter, “Deal.”
He woke up the next morning to see Potter’s yard positively brimming with new decorations.
The bastard.