Written for QLFC S3 - Round 1


8:00 a.m. - Wake up and fumble for the off button on that god-awful alarm clock that Ron gave him as a joke for his twenty-fourth birthday.

8:01 a.m. - Fall back asleep, one hand still on top of the alarm clock, one leg slung over the side of the bed.

9:50 a.m. - Wake up abruptly, panic, get dressed, fly out the door.

10:00.00001 a.m. - Arrive at work and get yelled at for being late.

...

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione scolds from the office cubicle right next to his. "It's the fifth time this week."

"I wasn't even a second late Hermione," Harry defends, heaving himself into his rolling chair with a grateful sigh. It's sad, he thinks, that his chair is the only part of the job that he actually likes.

She ignores him. "We only actually worksix times a week you know."

"I know, I know," he says. He turns to his computer and boots it up. "I'll put up some more alarm clocks."

She gives him an affronted look and draws herself up in a way that definitely means he's in for A Very Long Lecture.

"Oh look, the coffee machine's free," Harry says hastily, shooting to his feet. "Gottagobye."

"Wait–"

He heads out again, not looking back at her. Idly, he waits for his coffee to finish, pursing his lips in boredom.

It looks to be just another day at the office. Sometimes, he's almost jealous of Ron with his much more exciting job as a police officer. But, he had an opportunity to be one too.

He didn't take it. He doesn't have anyone to blame but himself.

...

Harry slides into his chair again the next day, after being chewed out by his boss.

"I hate Umbridge," he groans. "She's out to get me."

Hermione gives him a crabby look, having been snubbed the day before. Her glare turns even more fearsome once she notices the time.

"Ten minutes today Harry," she fumes. "This is getting out of hand."

Harry winces. "I'm trying, Hermione."

She frowns at him. "You know what you need?" she asks. She continues talking, not waiting for an answer. "A change. You need something drastic to change in your life."

"I don't need anything to change," he replies stubbornly. "I like it this way. What's not to like?"

She gives him a look again. Harry bites his lip. He loves Hermione– she's been a great friend to him since the day he met her in university and she whipped his sorry ass into shape, but she could be very pushy at times. He's glad that she has Ron now to nag at more.

Thankfully, distraction comes in the form of a head of platinum blonde hair.

"Granger," the man says, sounding bored and snappy. "Have you sent the files I asked for yet?"

She turns away from Harry to glance at her computer. "Sending them now."

Harry turns curious eyes onto the stranger. He's unexpectedly handsome, with sharp cheekbones and cool grey eyes. Exactly his type, Harry thinks in dismay.

The man's eyes slide over to Harry, still half leaning towards Hermione.

"Oh, hello," Harry says as politely as he can while his heart is pounding out of his chest. "Are you new here? Haven't seen you around before."

"No, I've been here for a while," the man says with a raised eyebrow. "Although I suppose it's because we work in different sections."

"Ah," Harry says. He holds out his hand. "Harry Potter, then. Nice to meet you."

The other man takes it delicately. "Draco Malfoy. Pleasure."

Draco has just taken a step back when suddenly, the door slams open. Harry frowns in confusion and glances over. At first, there's nothing out of the ordinary. Then, he realizes the fairly large group of people are all wearing some sort of black robe.

And then, he sees they're holding guns.

Harry stills. Draco, on the other hand, dives under the table.

"Nobody move!" they yell. Harry's eyes dart across their group, disbelieving.

There are gunmen in the room, he thinks dully.

There are gunmen in the room.

The whole scene is so bizarre, like something straight out of a movie.

"We're looking for Draco Malfoy," the head robed guy says. At first, Harry think, who? But then Draco shifts under the table and he realizes that yes, that is in fact the name of the guy who he met seconds ago.

They scan the room, but Harry is pretty much blocking Draco from view. They mutter amongst themselves, and then retreat into the hallway. Harry can see their silhouettes through the frosted window.

"Is it clear?" Draco whispers.

"Yes," Harry says numbly.

Hermione comes around to stand beside him, looking pale and thin-lipped. "What in the world did you do?" she whisper-yells at Draco.

"I may have accidentally joined a cult," Draco admits from under the table.

"You what," she says flatly, looking ready to strangle him with her bare hands. Harry quickly intervenes.

"Guys," he says. "Stop it. This isn't the time to fight."

Hermione visibly takes a deep breath, and then calmly asks, "You'll tell us exactly how this happened."

Draco gives her a wary look, before crawling out from under the table. He smooths his shirt absently.

"So I was out getting pasta the other day," he begins with an eerie kind of calm. "I don't know, there was this booth right next to the pasta place and they were being kinda pushy. They kept trying to make me sign up and everything, so I did it so they'd get off my back."

The two of them stare at him.

"It came with a free tattoo," he adds quietly.

Harry hastily inserts himself between them, blocking him from Hermione's vision.

"Look, I tried to quit as soon as I found out, okay? But it turns out they don't like it when people do that."

"You can say that again," Harry mutters.

Time passes agonizingly slowly. Draco stays in sight, and whenever the silhouettes move towards the door he hastily moves towards the table again. They don't enter again, though.

Privately, Harry doesn't think they're very good at the whole hostage situation.

"You know," Harry says, sitting back onto his office chair. "I don't think this is what you meant when you said I needed a change."

"Don't even start with me Harry," Hermione huffs.

"Are you saying we can blame this situation on Granger?" Draco quips from under the table again. "Karma and all that? I bet you she did something horrible in a past life."

"If you hadn't joined the cult in the first place, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"It was an accident!"

"Sure, okay."

"Hey—"

"Guys."

Silence descends on them again.

Hermione, amazingly enough, gets back to work.

The internet connection still works, she claims. And Umbridge wants this done by tomorrow.

Harry just shakes his head at her. He turns back to Draco, who's shifting from foot to foot.

Draco turns to him and sighs. "Sorry for the trouble," he says.

"Don't worry about it, happens all the time," Harry says, stumbling over his words.

Draco gives him an incredulous look.

"You get held at gun-point all the time?"

"Wait, no! I meant— uh. Forget it."

Draco gives him an odd little smile and doesn't say anything more.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry can see his co-workers flocking to the coffee station. Casual chatter starts up again, the main topics seeming to be:

"Do you think they'll give us break days if we claim traumatization?" and "I hope this means my deadline's extended."

"Do you want some?" Harry asks, gesturing.

Draco shakes his head. "Nah, it's alright. I don't like coffee much."

Outside, there's a loud commotion. Harry starts and glances at the door as the number of silhouettes suddenly doubles. The door slams open for the second time that day, but the sight is much more comforting that the first one.

A police officer comes in and glances around the room: at Hermione typing away, at Harry and Draco stealing glances at each other, at everyone else, standing around the coffee machine.

"Who…?" Harry says, confused.

"I called the police," Neville says meekly.

"This was a hostage situation, right?" the police lady asks. Behind her, the cult members are getting arrested and led away.

Hermione doesn't even look up.

"Hey," Draco says suddenly to Harry. "Let's go get coffee. It's already lunch time. There's a nice place I know a couple minutes from here."

"There's a coffee machine right in the office though," Harry says quizzically. "It's not too bad. Besides, I thought you didn't like coffee?"

Draco stares at him.

"Oh," Harry says, realization dawning on his face. "Oh."

"So?" Draco prompts. "Is that a yes or a yes?"

"Well, you haven't given me any option otherwise," Harry says, still wide eyed. Then he laughs, because this situation is so absurd.

"I'd love to," he says warmly.