This was my first story for the dramione-duet fest 2015 on LiveJournal.

This is humour, a little on the parody side (miniscule). That means it's OOC as well, but I did my best to keep it as IC as possible, despite this. Shout-out to Nitsrek for beta'ing this for me, and for helping me stop this fic from becoming too crazy.

Also, there was no Tom Marvolo Riddle in this universe. Enjoy!

...

'Dear School Board of Directors,'

No, that wouldn't do. They might think he was trying to come on to them again. Really, one drunken night at the recent Mardi Gras, and they thought him that easy. It was all for the children, honestly. He cozied up to those old buggers for them. The happy, smiling children that were the future of the Wizarding World. Yes… them. Albus Dumbledore vanished the words on the parchment with a wave of his hand and tried again.

'Attention: School Board of Directors,'

A bit dull, if not trite, but more appropriate, he supposed.

'I am sure it has already come to your attention that the Head Boy and Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have been reprimanded for blowing up a centuries old, mahogany carved supply closet door from the inside, but I assure you the matter is well under control and not noteworthy enough to send Lucius Malfoy over to check up on me again. I do enjoy the knitting magazines his wife donated for the new faculty lounge, but that's another story all together.

As you've requested a detailed report on the matter however (I can only assume you too, are in need of good reading material), I shall endeavour to provide one.

Now keep in mind that much of this is second-hand knowledge, water cooler talk amongst the teachers after the fact, and the result of horny teenagers just doing what comes naturally. I do not claim to have witnessed the majority of these events, as my crystal ball was responsibly stored at the bottom of my sock drawer at the time.

Onward...'

.

Several hours earlier…

"Open the bloody door!"

Draco Malfoy pounded on the large, wooden door as he swore and rattled off a series of painful things he was going to do to the person responsible for this outrage. He was trapped in a supply closet with Hermione Granger and dressed up with nowhere to go – seriously, his robes probably cost more than this mahogany carved door. He narrowed his eyes at it critically – it wasn't too bad, he supposed.

He glanced backward at the girl he'd been daydreaming about for months. Draco wanted to take advantage of the surprise school dance that old coot had decided to throw for Valentine's Day by using it as an excuse to finally kiss her and… well, other things. This prankster, however, had fucked it up royally. Really, she was going to hate him for this, he just knew it, even though it wasn't his fault. This was fucking insane.

Hermione shook her head at his tantrum. "Malfoy, shut your mouth!"

"Fuck you, Granger. Someone's locked us in here and I'm going to make them pay for it."

"Or you'll tell your daddy all about it, and he'll do it for you," she said waspishly.

"Fuck you."

"You already offered that," she said, not bothering to fight the smirk now creeping onto her face. "I'm not buying."

He spun to face her. "Don't you even care that we're stuck in here, together?"

Yes, yes she did. But she also quite liked it. The Great Hall was currently filled with party goers and admirers of her ex-boyfriend Ronald Weasley, so she was happier here right now. Even in his company. Not that Draco Malfoy didn't at least fill the aesthetics criteria of her idea of the perfect boyfriend. If he'd just get that stick out of his arse, she'd have accepted his Valentine's Card last week.

Sorry, anonymous Valentine's Card. He still wouldn't admit it was him, but she wasn't stupid. And she'd been paying him back all week by making innuendos. His hopeful look every time she pouted, licked her lips or talked freely about her sexual fantasies (for example), was almost as much of a turn-on for her as watching him walk away. And until he admitted he wanted her, she wasn't going to let up.

"No," she lied. "I'm fine here."

"You're insane."

"And you're getting me hot and bothered. Calm down."

He stilled, watching her intensely. She waited with baited breath but all he did was glance at her face, chest, legs, then the curve from her hips to her groin, her chest again, her lips, and then let out a small, strangled sigh.

"I don't give a fuck," he said weakly.

Hermione sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples, trying to relieve the pressure of her incoming headache. Honestly, what was wrong with him?

"It's cooler by the door," he added softly a full minute later, still watching her closely. Gauging her reaction, most likely.

Okay, so she was enjoying being a tease. Her eyes trailed over his body and his eyes widened. "No," she said, now meeting those soft, grey eyes of his. "I'm comfortable here."

He just growled at her, turned away, and started pounding on the door again, swearing liberally and promising retribution to their torturer.

Outside the supply closet, Albus Dumbledore was casting a Silencing Charm over the centuries-old, mahogany carved door when a commotion suddenly sounded in the Great Hall. The hall had been redecorated especially for tonight's festivities; gnomes, fairies, and all mannered of magical creatures and objects were dazzling the students and teachers as he had intended.

"There you are." Severus Snape was striding toward him, from the direction of the Valentine's Day Dance. He gave his Headmaster a strange look as he approached; Dumbledore's wand hand was still raised, mid-charm. "There's a problem," he said. "It would seem that potion that had gone mysteriously missing from my supply an hour ago has turned up."

Albus lowered his wand and stared at the Potions Master over his half-moon spectacles. He didn't want to respond to that, so he gave him his most enigmatic expression. Snape tried to hold his gaze, hoping he wouldn't have to explain this out loud. Couldn't the old coot just realize he needed him to follow him into the Great Hall? He noted the supply closet in his peripherals again and inwardly sighed. He probably thought Snape was making an excuse to interrupt in the Headmaster's daft match-making scheme.

Severus Snape was the first to notice the suspicious behaviour of the Head Boy and Head Girl, but refused to do anything about it due to personal and bitter reasons. Dumbledore pleaded, begged, and ultimately ordered him to assist with preparations for operation 'kill the bad mood and get them moving on the making love'. It was a disastrous idea and the Head of Slytherin still wanted nothing to do with it. Granger was a know-it-all swot and unworthy of the Malfoy heir.

Snape closed his eyes and sighed. Dumbledore had locked the Head Boy and Head Girl in a supply closet, hoping that when he did finally open it, he'd find them going at it in there. There was so much sexual tension between those two.

"You were saying?" Albus asked him, keeping his triumphant grin to himself.

Snape sighed again. He didn't get paid enough for this. "It would seem that someone has spiked the punch bowl with my stolen Veritaserum."

.

Several hours later…

'In Professor Snape's defence, it's not easy to break into a magically locked and ferociously guarded room. I myself have had trouble keeping rascals at bay when I have something of importance to hide (three-headed dogs just aren't the deterrent they used to be). And he's bitter, so very bitter, about the last time I played match-maker with Hogwarts students – I remember quite clearly the last time. It ended in a duel in the middle of the Quidditch pitch after a game and resulted in the most fantastic exhibition of eroticism I've ever seen in the form of fireworks – the crackling grunts and bellows of a stag as it mated with the doe could've given that Muggle fantasy character Gandalf a run for his Galleons. That day had ended the romantic hopes of one greasy haired Slytherin.

Professor Snape only gave into my begging, pleading, and insane orders to help this time to save his Potions lab from another horrific accident (though I in no way admit that there was a potentially, mentally scarring moment for anyone who happened to be in the immediate vicinity at the time, nor were there any sexual harassment complaints), and end the Head Boy and Head Girl's incessant fighting. Love is a battle, isn't it?

Such a bitter, bitter man. Now, where was I? Oh yes…'

.

Several hours earlier…

It had only been five minutes since they'd been trapped together, but already the air was hotter than before. Hermione wondered if maybe she should be taking this seriously after all – normally she would be, but the idea of being stuck in a confined space with Draco had been a fantasy of hers for a while now.

"Will you fucking help me out here, Granger?"

She sighed. He was really going for that Arse of the Year Award. She walked over to the door, hyper-aware that Draco hadn't moved out of her way; his body heat, coupled with hers was making her hot and bothered for real this time. She wanted him to back off, but instead he just continued to stand there, watching her. She wasn't a zoo animal!

"Stop staring," she snapped. He just smirked. She sighed, again. "Fine."

Hermione held her wand at the door, cast Alohomora a few times, then steadily worked in a few destructive spells for the sake of it – that made him move out of the way. But nothing was opening the door. She cast a detection charm. Damn it! There were numerous silencing and protection charms on this door. Hermione frowned at it. Someone powerful had done this. It was beyond the skill level of any student beneath the final year, and more powerful than any student magic she'd felt, outside of Harry's when he got riled up.

A teacher? No. Why would a teacher do this?

The baffled look on her face seemed to deflate Draco's mood. He held a hand against the door and frowned. "I guess we'd better get comfortable," he said, finally letting up on his tirade.

He looked exhausted. She didn't have the heart to tease him now. Hermione waved her wand and the broom leaning up against the wall next to her turned into a soft, two-person chair. She'd seen it in a Muggle catalogue and always wanted one. He raised his eyebrows at her suggestively. It was his turn to be a tease. Hermione cleared her throat and sat down, not trusting her voice with that sexy smirk directed at her. He joined her on the chair and spread his arm over the back of the couch-like seat. A few more minutes passed, this time in silence.

"I've always wanted to do it up against a wall," Hermione said suddenly.

"What?"

"Let's play a game," she said, turning to face him. He was closer than she had realized, but she didn't back off.

He was intrigued. "What kind of game?"

"We don't have any alcohol," she said. "But there's this Muggle game called 'I've never' in which you say something you've never done and anyone who's never done it takes a shot."

Draco pulled his arm off of the back of the two-seater and turned his body to face her full on. "So what do we use in lieu of alcohol?"

"A promise," she said. "Or an I.O.U. in the form of a dare."

"I like it. I'll go first: I've never done it against a wall."

Hermione blushed. "Okay, I had that one coming." She giggled at his proud expression. "What do I owe you?"

"A kiss."

Bold. She liked it. "Now or later?"

"Now."

And that was it. The tension in her body was gone. This was finally it. She licked her lips and steadied her breathing before leaning forward. The bastard didn't meet her halfway like he did in her fantasies, but all her expectations flew out a non-existent window the moment her lips touched his. He immediately wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her further in. Her hands went impulsively to his hair; it wasn't oily as he'd stopped slicking it back, but it was soft and choppy between her fingers.

Hermione moaned, Draco moaned; her body instinctively pressed into his and he was forced to slide backwards as she half climbed on top of him. Not that he was complaining. She fit nicely into him, like a puzzle piece. She was absentmindedly grinding against him too.

He forced himself to focus on the kiss, and not the steadily growing problem in his trousers. Her lips were not as moist as they'd looked after she'd licked them. She continued to press her lips into him as he ran his tongue over them, asking for entrance. She gave in immediately and he bit her lip lightly, pulling the lower lip gently. She growled this time. She had his dress robes pushed up as she ground against him again.

Draco wrapped his right hand behind her neck as his left one started exploring her dress. She'd looked so gorgeous at the Yule Ball in their fourth year, but that dress didn't compare to this one. It tantalized without revealing anything, and fitted her nice shape modestly while giving him something to wank to later. He wanted her. Oh Merlin's balls, he fucking needed her!

"Granger," he whispered against her lips. She groaned as he forced himself to pull away to catch her eye. "Hermione," he said. That got her attention.

"Fuck." She let out a long sigh, her eyes still closed. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

He chuckled, running a hand through her hair. Her eyelids felt heavier and she leant against him, unable to open her eyes. Why did it feel like that?

"Hermione?" His voice was hoarse. "I…I want to keep going but..." He didn't want to force the situation.

Draco looked down toward his crotch as she opened her eyes. She blushed when she realized she could feel his erection, and hurriedly sat up.

"We should get out of here," she said, now standing and looking anywhere but at his trousers.

"We already tried that."

Yes, yes they did. But she wasn't going to shag him in here, even if it was against the wall. They had a shared dormitory and plenty of places both in and out of the bedroom they could use. She fought the blush (again!), and fumbled for her wand. Draco seemed to realize what she meant and also drew his wand.

"The charms on the door don't protect against dual spells," she said.

"As in?"

She bit her bottom lip, thinking – more to herself than Draco. "We should cast the spell at the same time, to increase the power. But what could be strong enough to blast through this door?" Not to mention the charms cast on the outside of the door.

"The desire to shag, perhaps?"

She nodded mutely, determinedly ignoring the blush creeping up her face.

"Okay," he said. "Bombarda first, shall we?"

Hermione nodded. "Lets."

They both aimed and cast the charm in unison several times. The walls shook and the door rattled slightly, but no luck.

She glanced at Draco. "Bombarda Maxima this time?"

"Mm hmm."

This time the door shook, cracks appearing in it, and the door frame loosened, almost letting go of its charge.

"Again."

And again. On their seventh try, the explosion shattered the walls and broke the wall down into three large, jagged pieces. Hermione coughed as the dust settled and cries in the distance rapidly approached their position. She looked up at Draco and he looked as amused as her.

"Oops," they both said.

As it turned out, the Veritaserum wasn't distraction enough. Dumbledore ordered those not affected to keep clear of those affected, and the dance was immediately disbanded. Grumbling echoed over the hall as the explosion rang out, and he realized he'd forgotten all about Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy. He hurried out of the hall, leaving the rest to Snape and quickly found the source of the disturbance in two dishevelled head students.

"My, my." He couldn't keep the twinkle out of his eyes. "You two certainly have been busy."

Despite the fact that it was his fault, he still gave them detention. That centuries-old, mahogany carved door had been one of a kind after all, and given the charms initially done over it by their Founders, it was also (even magically) irreplaceable. He sighed at that. There was no such thing as a normal, mundane door these days. The sound of Filch approaching distracted him and he decided it would be best to send these two off before he started on one of his tirades.

"Off you pop," he said, and strode away.

"What is going on?" Hermione asked Harry, who was half running out of the Great Hall, chasing after a furious looking Ginevra Weasley.

He just shook his head and continued trying to placate his girlfriend as they disappeared around a corner.

"Harry wants a threesome with Luna and Cho," Ron said, appearing beside her, shuddering. "The drinks were spiked with Veritaserum." He gave a still silent Draco a strange look before half-heartedly following his best friend and sister.

A small crowd appeared as they were ushered out of the Great Hall and the Head Boy and Head Girl watched them go, feeling no desire to intervene and fulfill their duties as fights broke out, despite the presence of the teachers.

Hermione turned suddenly and stared at Draco. "You didn't drink any of the punch before we were locked in the closet, did you?"

He shook his head. "You?"

"No." She bit her bottom lip. "I guess that means…"

"It meant something to me," Draco said. Hesitantly, he reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face. "I mean, I meant what I said, and did. I like kissing you."

Hermione fought her blush. "Y-yes, me too. I mean…"

He pressed a finger to her lips to cut her off. "I know."

Hermione glanced furtively at his trousers. She tried to mask her interest, but his smirk widened and she couldn't breathe for a moment. She was going to die of embarrassment!

"Um…" She sighed. "I know this is a personal question, but…"

"Eight inches," he said, smirking at her.

Hermione groaned, her face warming further. At this rate, she was going to die of heatstroke. He took her hand in his and smiled. A real smile, not that incorrigible (though admittedly sexy) smirk that made her want to smack him, throttle him and then kiss him better. She smiled back. He was so infectious, so alluring, how could she not want him to shag her hard against that wall… right there?

Draco kissed her hand. "Come on, I'll show you."

Hermione said nothing as he led her toward their shared dormitory. She was too excited to see and feel more of him. Thank the Founders for anonymous pranksters.

.

Several hours later…

'So there you have it; a full report in detail. I hope it was everything you were hoping for on those late, lonely nights with nothing to read in bed. I must admit, it could've gone far worse if it hadn't been for my timely intervention. Fortunately, I remembered that Horace Slughorn has carried the antidote to Veritaserum on him since that unfortunate incident (you know the one I'm talking about – the one I won't talk about), so a quick Floo to him settled that. No harm done. Well, except for the truths that were spilled in the meantime. And I'm sad to say that many relationships, while recovered, aren't quite what they used to be. The price of stocking highly unethical potions in a simple closet, I suppose.

But I digress.

Professor Snape's attempts to corner the perpetrator have yielded no results. I fear we will never know who spiked the punch bowl and locked the Head Boy and Head Girl in the supply closet, magically. It could've literally been anyone with extensive knowledge of both sealing charms and the protective charms over Snape's supply room.

Thankfully, I have unpacked my crystal ball in hopes of preventing another incident such as this.

Sincerely yours,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.

P.S.

Just reminding you of 'that one time', so you know to make the right decision not to act on this.

P.P.S

You know what I'm talking about.'

Albus smiled to himself, re-read what he'd written a few times, rolled up the parchment, sealed it and waved his hand imperiously at the dark owl that had waited dutifully on the windowsill for him to pen his response. He attached the letter to the owl and watched wistfully as it flew off, into the night. Yes, it had been a good night. Well, certainly not for Professor Snape.

…

Not too crazy.

When I was writing this, the perpetrator for the Veritaserum was Blaise, but I cut him out of this. So no, it wasn't Dumbledore. I prefer this ending anyway.

Tell me what you think! :)