Only in an Elevator Author:
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Harry and Draco work at the Ministry of Magic, and something odd is going on
Warnings: Um, none, really. Except slash, but we've been over that one. Bondage is implied, but not written out.
Author's Notes: This actually started as an assignment for Creative Writing class, and it just kind of grew from there. What else...? Enjoy! Review! Though the first one is optional.
Only in an Elevator
By Maggi Grooms
As Draco left his office, he thought about what a terrible day it had been. An overload of work, because his incompetent underlings had bollixed it up yesterday, a rash of computer meltdowns, and, to top it all off, he was here. Why was he here again? Oh, right. He was stalking Draco, wasn't he? It was the only logical explanation. Three jobs now, Draco had held since leaving Hogwarts. Three unrelated jobs, and Potter was at all of them. Draco was determined to put a stop to it. He walked into the elevator and pressed the lobby button. As the doors closed, a hand slid in and pushed them apart. Joy. It was his hand. Draco shook his head as Potter entered.
What are you doing here, Potter?'
Going down to the lobby to go home, Malfoy.'
Inexplicably, it hurt Harry when Draco called him Potter. Well, it wasn't totally inexplicable. Harry knew why. He loved Draco. He had loved him since seventh year. (A/N: Bet you never saw that coming) Ever since he and Draco had shared that one special Halloween together, he'd been unable to get him out of his mind. Harry had just gotten so used to referring to Draco as, well, Draco, that it shook him to hear his surname so viciously uttered
You know what I mean, Potter. In all those years with the Mudblood, some intelligence must have rubbed off on you. Why are you here? At my job? My third job in a row that you've invaded, might I add?'
Speaking of rubbing, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle's stupidity must have rubbed off on you. Someone as smart as you used to be would realize that Fudge is trying to set us up.'
What in the bloody hell are you talking about?' Draco asked incredulously.
Think about it, Draco,' Harry answered, noting happily Draco's slight jolt at the use of his given name. Three jobs now, and we've been assigned together every time. First I was in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, and you were transferred. There was no reason for that, as it's obvious you don't care at all about the subject.'
Damn straight!' Draco snorted. Harry chuckled at the expression, knowing that he had proven it false two years ago.
Then you requested a transfer to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, hardly a surprise given out third year. Within a week --'Harry halted as the elevator jerked to a stop. What the--?'
We haven't reached the lobby already, have we?' Draco asked, panic entering his voice. Only we were on the ninth floor, and we've only gone three.'
Something must have happened to the elevator,' Harry reasoned, smiling. It seemed Fudge would stop at nothing to get the two of them together. Harry silently thanked his boss, promising that if this worked out, he would buy the minister a car.
What the hell's so funny, Potter? We're stuck in this horrible contraption! How could it get stuck, anyway? It's magic! Magic's not supposed to fail!'
And there's that wonderful Malfoy density coming out to play. Isn't it obvious? Fudge did this. It just proves my theory.'
Well he better bloody stop it, because it's not going to work. I don't like you, you don't like me,' Harry snorted in what Draco took to be assent, 'And we're not getting together. He must be losing his mind.
'Well, obviously. We hate each other. Although, of course, I hate you more.
'Do not.' Draco retorted, claustrophobia having stripped him of his originality
'Do too.' Harry shot back, figuring that if Draco was going to be childish, he might as well play along.
'Do not!
'Do too.'
'Do NOT!
'Do TOO!
With each denial and affirmation they stepped closer to each other, until Draco could smell Harry's cologne and Harry started to get lightheaded from being in such close proximity with the man of his dreams. Suddenly Harry placed his hands on Draco's shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss. True to every single fan fiction cliché ever, Draco struggled for a few seconds before he realized this was what he wanted and relaxed into the kiss. After about a minute Harry pulled away, gasping for breath. 'What took you so bloody long?' Draco asked, grinning.
Angon a tic,' was Harry's odd response as he bent down, giving Draco a remarkably good view as he rummaged inside his briefcase. 'Aha!' he exclaimed, holding up a set of handcuffs.
'Oh, for Merlin's sake,' Draco sighed. 'That is so clichéd, and why do you even have those?
'Hello? Auror here. Contrary to your little rant earlier, binding spells do not always work. Handcuffs are more efficient. Plus, of course, the obvious reason.' Harry replied, leering at Draco as he dangled the handcuffs from his finger.
'Oh, no. No, you don't. I am not going to let you bugger me! We only just kissed, for Merlin's sake!
'How soon they forget,' Harry sighed in mock sadness. 'Halloween, Draco. Seventh year.
'Of course I remember. How could I not? It was the best bloody night of my life. But I was drunk, and I still didn't let you bugger me.
'The best night of you life?' Harry tried not to show it, but he was touched. He'd assumed he would be just another notch on the bedpost of the biggest slut in Slytherin. Apparently, it'd had an effect.
'Okay, stop that. Stop that right now! There will be no reminiscing! And no buggery of Draco, either!' Grabbing his wand, Draco muttered, 'Accio handcuffs.' He wasn't sure why he muttered. He supposed the author must not have been able to think of any better terms for speaking. As the handcuffs flew toward him, it was Draco's turn to leer.
An hour later, both boys were dressed and waiting impatiently for the elevator to be fixed. They were in a hurry to get home. There were simply some things that you could not do without a bed, and they were anxious.
The next day, Cornelius Fudge found a brand new 1998 Mercedes-Benz in his driveway. On the windshield was a note: Thanks, Fudge. I owe you one. Harry.
Wondering what on Earth the boy could mean, because he's just dense like that, the Minister of Magic apparated to work.