Friendly Fire or, the Choccies Hit the Fan

Part 7: Friendly Fire or, the Choccies Hit the Fan

Colin Creevey tsked to himself. Some old biddy in Islington swore her teakettle was possessed by Tom Riddle, and he was called in two hours early to fetch the report to Deputy Chief Auror Potter's office. To top things off, the file hadn't been signed for properly. It had taken a complex combination of Revelios, Accios, Descendos, and Episkeys to discover it was on Malfoy's desk. Shirley, his sneaky little filing clerk, would be lucky not to be written up for this, Colin mused as he strode out of the Archives.

He wondered if Draco was playing some complicated Slytherin version of cat and mouse with him to attract Colin's attention. First, he checked out a bizarre series of back file folders. Then, he refused to return them until Colin was forced to come after them and saw Draco virtually attacked by Granger. Then, he checked out files during Colin's lunch break and failed to return them promptly. Again. Colin wiggled his head a little, confused by referring to himself in the third person.

This was why he avoided dating Slytherins as a rule. All this subterfuge was totally unnecessary. Nothing like a good old-fashioned pounce to declare your intentions. Deep in thought, Creevey tripped over a large object lying in the hallway in front of Granger's desk. He peered closely at the grouping of grayish lumps revealed by his Lumos. Actually, it didn't seem to be a large object. It was... two people! Colin Creevey, archival librarian, who was never very good in a crisis, panicked completely and sent up the red spark flare that put Ministry security and rescue on emergency alert.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco Malfoy was pulled abruptly from a pleasant dream state, mired in l'eau de Hermione, by the infernal caterwauling of a level two threat alarm. And a smack on the cheek that seemed endearingly familiar, though lacking in sting. He opened his eyes to see Granger hovering in concern above him. Over her shoulder, he spied Creevey and Deputy Chief Auror Potter. Fabulous. It was a nightmare. He sat up slowly, groaning a bit as he did.

"And then we passed out," Hermione said to Potter as Draco became more aware of his surroundings. Ah, which explains the floor and the Granger.

"Can someone shut off that infernal racket?" he muttered while glaring at Potter, who was clearly responsible. Who was nearly always responsible.

Potter signaled an underling, who immediately ran to do his master's bidding. Draco crawled over to Granger's guest chair and clambered into it, followed closely by his curly-haired witch, who perched on her desk beside him. His? Apparently so, if Pinocchio had his way. He looked up appealingly at her and whinged hopefully, "Coffee?"

"In the break room, Malfoy, where it always is," replied the hard-hearted vixen.

He sighed and attempted to achieve a vertical position. Success! After orienting himself, Granger's desk, Archival hallway, broom closet of lust, he started to walk towards the break room. And almost immediately hit an invisible barrier. He put up his hands and pushed against it. No give. Over his head, free air. He jumped a little, just to test it.

"Look, Hermione, Malfoy's caught in a box." Potter smirked.

"Are you still loopy from passing out?" Hermione inquired solicitously, crossing to him. The barrier disappeared. He walked forward again, and Hermione stopped, looking at Draco in puzzlement as the barrier reappeared and he smacked his hands against it in frustration.

"I am going to kill the Weasel copies," he muttered. Turning, he caught Hermione's arm by the elbow and gently hustled her along behind him. "Right after I drink my coffee."

"Kindly unhand me, you git," Hermione hissed at him. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Shut it, Granger. I haven't had my coffee yet."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Draco continued to ignore Hermione's shrieking as he entered the break room. Wonder if she'd shriek like that underneath me? He crossed immediately to the coffee maker. Two mugs – black, one sugar – later, he deigned to acknowledge his audience. One huffy Gryffindor know-it-all, one chatty but nervous water cooler, one highly amused ex-best friend.

"Déjà vu," murmured Frank in sotto voce to Mr. Zabini.

"Only this time, they'll be yelling in English," replied Blaise, eyes twinkling.

"What the hell was that about?" yelled Hermione.

"Remember the Kisses last night?" Draco replied calmly. "They were charmed to prevent us from leaving each other."

"And you couldn't explain that sooner?" Hermione countered, bristling. "Instead of manhandling me down the Ministry hallways?"

"Not without coffee."

"You let her go on like that before coffee?" marveled his brilliant best friend Blaise. "And she's still in one piece?" His entirely too observant best friend visibly considered the implications.

"Not a word, Zabini," Draco warned.

Zabini just quirked an eyebrow at him and smirked.

A very frustrated Hermione muttered, "Blasted Slytherins and their super secret subtext™," and tried to leave the break room. She hit the barrier. Hard.

Malfoy caught her at the waist as she bounced back toward him and murmured gruffly, "Easy there, sweetling."

Sweetling? Hermione melted into him a little before remembering herself. And Frank. And Blaise Zabini. The biggest gossips at the Ministry. Which was saying a lot, considering the competition. She pulled away reluctantly and folded her arms across her front.

"I'll kill them," she muttered.

Draco cleared his throat and replied, "I think not, Granger. I already called dibs."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"You might want to start packing."

George startled with a yelp, and packets of Canary Creams, Extendable Ears, and Ton-Tongue Toffees flew all over the stockroom floor.

"Bleeding hell, Gin. You almost gave me a heart attack."

She regarded him coolly. "It wasn't the brightest move, putting a Closeness Charm on two highly intelligent and devious individuals known for their talents at retribution. They are planning revenge at this very moment."

George swallowed uneasily and said, "That charm filled a contractual obligation, Gin. We had no choice..."

Fred came down the stairs and stopped, staring at Ginny in surprise.

"What are you doing here this time of day?"

"Warning you two off. When I left the Ministry, Hermione was practicing her Bat-Bogey Hexes and Malfoy was muttering about a family curse that removes your sense of humor."

"That explains Lucius..."

'... and doesn't sound so bad," finished George, sounding relieved.

"They're just getting warmed up, Gred." Ginny grimaced. "Remember Marietta Edgecombe? And Umbridge's pleasant jaunt in the Forbidden Forest? She still startles at the sound of galloping hooves. Malfoy's no slouch, either. That was a complicated plan, getting those Death Eaters into Hogwarts. And after that, he spent a lot of time with Snape, on the run."

"Ah, those were the days," said Fred facetiously.

"Our employer won't be pleased either," said George. "The Closeness Charm should've resulted in snogging, not scheming."

"It's summertime in Australia, yeah?" Fred looked at George, who nodded in affirmation.

Ginny sighed and said, "I'm not sure that's far enough, boys. Besides which, Hermione has friends in the Magical Consulate there. If I were you, I'd think about Antarctica."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Blaise Zabini was on his way to the Archives when he noticed the strange little man in Draco's guest chair. The little man was hirsute and very surly looking. Not all that remarkable. This was the Ministry, after all. Lots of strangle little surly hirsute men running about. The bowler hat, and oddly cherubic facial features under all that stubble, coupled with the chomped-on Cuban cigar and pristine diaper, did give one pause, however. As did the wings.

"You, boy," the surly little man barked at him, "you know Malfoy?"

Blaise nodded, at a loss for words. The devil shivered and put on his pea coat.

"Where is he? I'm on a schedule here. Don't have time to mess around, waiting on his nobs."

"He and Granger had an errand to run. Ministry business." Zabini smoothed his robes, remembering himself. "Did you have an appointment?"

The hairy little man scoffed and chomped his cigar. "I'm a god. We don't need appointments."

"God?" Zabini shook his head, not certain he had heard correctly.

"Eros. Son of Aphrodite. Cupid ring a bell? Look, tell me where they went, okay? I have a huge backlog to get through. In fact, the Granger-Malfoy match was supposed to happen three years ago. America took longer than expected, even with the subcontractors."

"America?" Blaise was sure he was dreaming. Ow. That pinching charm really hurt.

"Yes, America. Have you heard about the divorce rate over there? I tried to tell her Sisyphus had better luck with that boulder, but you know mums. Forget a couple socks on the floor when you're five, and they think you're sloppy forever."

"I think the Weasley twins went to America last fall," muttered Blaise. He was still struggling to cope, caught between disbelief and visions of his picture on page one of the Daily Prophet. Or at least The Quibbler.

"You know Gred and Forge? They're two of my best subcontractors. Did a brilliant job at the Playboy Mansion. Bloke has three girlfriends now." Cupid grinned and chomped on his Cuban. "Now, why don't you tell me where Draco and Hermione went off to, hmmm?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were in the stockroom of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, staring at the Kiss hovering in mid air before them and the note floating beside it.

SORRY WE MISSED YOU – G

NOT REALLY – F

EAT THE KISS – G

YOU HAVE TO SHARE IT – F

AND THE CLOSENESS CHARM – G

WILL WEAR OFF – F

CHEERS – G&F

The little Kiss did a sort of bump and grind, shirking off its foil. The blue on white banner undulated in front of them. It read: ALL TOGETHER NOW.

Draco reached for the tiny bit of chocolate and slipped it into his mouth. He turned to Hermione and gently reached for her shoulders, pulling her to him. "My turn," he whispered as his lips lightly brushed hers.

Her hands settled on his waist as his crept up, one resting at the nape of her neck, the other lighting at her jaw. His fingertips brushed the rim of her ear, and his thumb stroked her cheek as his lips played over hers, encouraging them to part. She sighed, and he slipped his tongue into her warm mouth, sharing the sweet, creamy confection with her. Her hands wandered up his back, pressing him closer as he nibbled her lower lip and then delved his tongue back inside her warmth, seeking to slide its velvet against hers. He moaned, the sound echoing in her ears, and devoured her mouth, sucking her tongue into his.

They were both shaking at the knees and clinging to each other dazedly. They hardly felt the ping of the arrows in their respective backsides. But Pinocchio felt the sting with joyful recognition and began to sing in celebration.

When you wish upon a star

Your dreams come true

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N:

Some information on Sisyphus

Song lyrics from Disney's Pinocchio "When You Wish Upon a Star" Performed by: Jimini Cricket (Cliff Edwards) Music: Leigh Harline Lyrics: Ned Washington.

Many thanks to my beta, Elyaeru. She turned me into a newt! (I got better... but the mistakes are still mine).

Originally posted to the Live Journal dramionedrabbles community for the 2008 St. Valentine's Day 7 Kisses Challenge.

Day 7 prompt: romantic kiss.