Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's note: I'm a huge fan of random little ficlets and drabbles so here's another one. About my favourite couple, of course. The inspiration for this was a game I found on a thread – the 'write a word beginning with the last letter of the last word' game. And the first word was ticket, so here this is. I hope you like it. It's not as fluffy as I'd have liked it to be. (It takes place fairly close to the end of the war.)


Fervescere

Ticket

"Stop fussing," Pansy said, stamping her feet in irritation. The blonde twit next to her kept fidgeting, turning his pockets inside out, moving books from one side to another, piling random pieces of parchment on top of other pieces of parchment that should not be placed together. His nerves were getting on her nerves!

"I know it's here somewhere," he muttered, utterly distracted.

"What's where?" Pansy could feel a pulse in her forehead now

"The tickets – I can't find them.," came another distracted reply from the blonde running frantic hands over her wonderful, previously organised chaotic desk, and gods was she angry.

"You mean the tickets you gave to me for safe keeping?"

It took a while for the words to filter through to Draco's brain; a while in which his frenetic hands continued to make chaos; a while in which Pansy's hands inched ever closer to her wand; a while in which Draco was oblivious of the danger he stood in.

"Oh." At least he had the decency to flush pink, Pansy thought furiously as she looked at her desk.

"Yes, 'oh'," She said drily, forcing her hands to move away from her wand. As much as she loved Draco, she was so not above hexing him if he annoyed her too much. A feeling he returned, she knew from past experiences. It was a tacit agreement between them. "Shall we go then?" She said impatiently. To her relief, Draco made no demur, despite looking like a fool. She rarely saw this kind of benign behaviour from him but she wouldn't complain.

They flooed to the International Travels Building, found on the outskirts of London. After an incident in 1798, when 87 Muggles had to have their memories altered when a group of 16 witches and wizards had apparated to Paris, it had been internationally agreed to find specific locations for people to arrive at.

Their current destination was Rome – it had been a hell of a year and they'd both decided that they needed a break – just the two of them. "And somewhere warm-ish," Pansy had added. They had chosen to floo – the most expensive option but also the most comfortable.

They stepped out of the large, ornate fireplace into a large white room where dozens of people were coming and going constantly. Draco, grabbing Pansy's hands, began to wade his way through the people, muttering the memorised directions to him. They arrive at the appointed room, a very irritated witch demanding the ticket and Pansy's looking through her large purse, her hands getting more panicked as she can't find them.

"Looking for these?" Draco smirked as Pansy flushed bright pink. At least she had the decency to blush, he thought darkly. "You left them on your table. For safe keeping," He added.

They walk into the fireplace as amicably as they can, given the situation. Draco's just relieved that Pansy didn't have the time to hex him and Pansy's glad that Draco thinks she looks pretty flushed.