A/N: This fic is a one-shot for Valentine's Day and is part of a collaboration with kneazle. The entire series is called Cupid Cards. I don't have the links to the other stories yet, but as soon as I get them, I'll edit this and let you guys know!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is so not mine- unless I'm dreaming, then maybe. I also don't own Wuthering Heights. Or Valentine's Day. That belongs to God…or you know, whoever.

Oh, and I desperately wanted to call this "Trapped (in the Closet)," but a change in plot ruled that out. For those of you who understand the reference, I wish it could have been, but alas, it cannot. So without further ado I present…

Cupid Cards: Trapped

"Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps"

William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

One day. Just one.

For one bloody day, the whole world falls off its rocker.

It is without a doubt the day that is simultaneously the most loved and hated day of the year. For some the world is blissfully full of roses and candy and hearts (which are not even close to anatomically correct!). For others, it's one more day that's about to push them over the edge of depression, insanity, or perhaps a cliff. Or maybe all three.

There are men and women running around in starry-eyed trances, sputtering about significant others, romance, and (heaven forbid) true love. Then there are always those holed away in some corner cubicle, viciously ripping the petals from a rose stolen from a neighbor's desk, and muttering about stupid, mushy holidays and the dumb people who participate in them.

Yep, you guessed it.

Valentine's Day.

It brings out the best and worst in people. Although which group represents the best and which the worst, well, that is a matter of opinion.

Speaking of best and worst, meet the protagonists of our story.

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.

Now, don't mistake the syntax for meaning something that it doesn't. Regardless of the fact that their names are separated by a mere three letters, those two people are miles apart. In fact, out of all the beings roaming the earth, you are more likely to use such a miniscule conjunction to join an elderly African tribal leader with Paris Hilton, than to join together the names of our characters for any other reason than grammatical convenience.

So, continuing on. Regardless of their differences, Draco and Hermione had one thing in a common, something that was unimportant three hundred and sixty-four days out of the year. Lucky for us, today is day number three hundred and sixty-five. On this one day, they were completely in agreement. They were brethren for a cause. They were united.

United against stupid holidays that seemed to swell everyone's "annoying" level by a million… or you know, a really big number.

United against flowers that shriveled and died days later. What kind of gift is that anyway? For Draco, it was the equivalent of going up to a girl and saying, "Here, have this dying puppy I found out on the street. It's awfully cute if you ignore the blood and tyre tracks over its midsection."

United against sweets that only ended up making you fat. Hermione called this the "vicious cycle." A guy gives a girl chocolates for the special day, which then make her gain weight, which then inevitably leads to a break-up, which spells "LONELINESS" in big, bold, fat letters.

United against stupid red and pink and white hearts that were fucking everywhere! The mantra of our characters on this beloved and despised day continues to be, "That's not even what a bloody heart looks like!" Once, just once, someone should give his or her lover a real heart, and then maybe people would wake up and realize how incredibly dim-witted it all was.

So this once, on this one and only day, there was more than just a conjunction between the names Draco and Hermione. There was shared hatred—no, not for each other, but for this day, this day that seemed to have been created to spite the two of them. They both swore that this day would be their undoing.

And it was.

Draco Malfoy was disgusted. The scene before him was absolutely atrocious.

He was holding a bloody rose of all things. And she, she carefully held a red heart with lace around the edges in her hands. The house- elf was holding a heart-shaped box of chocolate and the centaur had a pink teddy bear perched gently on its back.

Had the Ministry gone bloody insane? Had they really gone so far as to Valentine-ify (shut up! No one cares that it's not really a word) the golden fountain in the middle of the atrium. Ever heard the word "overkill," people?

Draco wanted to walk right up to the statue of the centaur, take the stupid pink bear and rip its head off. That's what he thought of this holiday and the ridiculous decorations surrounding him. As he stepped into the lift, he seriously contemplated beating his head against the wall until he passed out, because he couldn't bloody handle it. The memos for this one day were red and pink and white and intricately folded into delicate hearts. Yeah, a concussion was sounding pretty appealing right about now.

As if all the decorations weren't enough, when he stepped out onto the Ministry Law Enforcement floor, he was accosted by a horrid love ballad that made the desire to be unconscious jump about ten notches. He sneered at the people smiling at their desks, singing along. Did these people have no self-respect? He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, 'We're Law Enforcement, people! We're the big guys, the sloanes! We're supposed to be tough and angry and have scars, really cool scars! We're not supposed to sing love songs!'

The lift sounded with a dull ding, and the doors opened to reveal a scowling Hermione Granger. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene before her, and she brushed past him towards her desk.

"You've got to be joking," she mumbled under her breath.

For a moment he wasn't sure whether those words were his or hers. Either way, it had been exactly what he was thinking. He watched as she stalked over to her desk, took one look at the pile of valentines on her desk, and shoved them into the rubbish bin. She picked up a small, stuffed hippogriff and her frown deepened. The man at the desk next to her was swaying happily and knew every word of the song that was playing. She glanced once more at the stuffed toy in her hand, drew back her arm carefully, and looked as though she wanted nothing more than to peg the guy right in the head.

Draco found himself grinning and silently cheering Granger on. A wicked smile crossed her face and Draco's heartbeat sped up in excitement. She was almost there, her hand cocked back to deliver a forceful blow, when that Irish Gryffindor walked up behind her and asked her a question. Her shoulders slumping, she sighed and replied in a monotone to his question.

Draco thought he probably felt just as disappointed as Granger looked. He began his trek towards his desk, but not before stepping casually behind Granger and whispering lightly over her shoulder, "I really wish you had thrown that hideous thing, Granger. It might have made this day bearable."

He thought he saw a small smile as he walked to his desk. Granger was entirely too easy to read. She was all about logic, which was partly why she hated this day. She couldn't see any logic in a fluffy, mushy, completely ridiculous holiday like Valentine's Day. Plus, she was logical enough to know that true love— he shuddered!—is a myth and nothing more.

He felt much the same way. He hated all the frilly stuff associated with this day. He hated all the stupid, girly bints that threw themselves at him with lace hearts and stuffed animals. What man in his right mind would want that anyway?

Certainly neither Granger nor Malfoy had any shortage of admirers on this day. Draco was handsome, charming, and had that bad-boy appeal. Granger was innocent, smart, and rather pretty if you ignored her hair.

He immediately took note of all the cards on his desk, and the boxes of chocolates. With a shrug, he opened a box of candy. After one bite, he decided it wasn't that good after all, and threw it all away.

He tried his best to ignore the music, the decorations, and all-around happiness. He tried to concentrate on his work, but it was easier said than done. So, he decided he'd settle for the next best thing.

Bugging Granger.

They had a sort of tentative friendship, but neither would dare to label it as such. They preferred to know each other as "ex-enemies."

They rarely even mentioned their turbulent history, because neither really cared to discuss the war at all. Life was much more pleasant when all mentions of those awful years were buried beneath other, fonder memories.

Intending to annoy Granger in hopes of making this day less horrific, he rose from his desk. She had her hands at her temple, rubbing furiously to remove the headache thudding dully behind her eyes. Her face was screwed up in frustration and she looked quite ridiculous.

"I've never seen you look so attractive, Granger."

She merely glared at him in return.

"Say, why aren't you fawning over all those ridiculous gifts from your admirers?"

"You know perfectly well why I'm not, Malfoy. Please don't tell me you've come to make this day even more unbearable."

"On the contrary, I'm here to make today better—well, for me anyway."

With an unladylike snort, she muttered, "Who would have thought?"

"Now, now, Granger, where is that friendly side of you I've always heard about?"

"On holiday."

He couldn't hold back a chuckle, and even she allowed herself a small smile.

He gracefully sat himself on top of her desk and began to fiddle around with her belongings. Grabbing a frame that held a picture of a couple he guessed were her parents, he continued, "I wish I were on holiday."

Glaring at him sitting on her desk, she nodded her head in agreement. She was about to say something about how much she hated this holiday, when a small red envelope appeared out of thin air on her desk.

"Hmmm," Draco smirked, "what is this?" He scooped up the envelope before she could grab it.

"Give that back, Malfoy."

If either of them had looked around, they would have noticed that Hermione's desk wasn't the only one that became home to a little red envelope. In fact, one had appeared on every single desk in the department. Alas, Draco and Hermione were both rather preoccupied.

"I mean it, Malfoy, don't you open that envelope."

"Why not, Granger? Having a torrid love affair that I don't know about?"

Three desks over, Seamus Finnegan had broken the seal of his little red envelope and was opening his card. On the inside was an animated picture of two redheaded cupids that looked oddly like the Weasley twins.

One of the cupids winked and clapped its hands. A puff of pink powder floated up into his face and he closed his eyes, feeling slightly nauseated. He heard a loud thump and a violent scream of "MALFOY!" His eyes, along with almost everyone else in the office snapped up to see Hermione Granger standing on her tiptoes, trying to retrieve a red envelope from a cocky Draco Malfoy standing proudly on top of her desk. As he looked at Hermione, he felt something in his stomach lurch toward her. And he wasn't the only one; almost a dozen people across the room were standing from their chairs and beginning to move towards the angry woman. A number of people had their eyes fixed on Draco, also.

Draco stood haughtily atop Hermione's desk, as she angrily tried to grab at his feet, and forcibly bring him down off her desk. As aggravating as he could be, she had to admit that it was slightly funny, and served to distract her from the atrocious holiday surrounding her.

With that thought, she glanced around her and, surprised, realized that a group of almost twenty people had surrounded her desk.

"Uh, Draco?" she asked worriedly.

She turned her back on Draco and saw Seamus staring at her with a bizarre look on his face.

"Uh, Seamus?" she whispered as he stepped closer to her.

He came so close that she had to crane her neck backwards to see his face.

"You're beautiful." He laid his hand lightly on her neck.

"What? Seamus, what are you…" he leaned forward in an attempt to kiss her, but she was ripped backward by a hand on her elbow.

"Dean? What's going on?" She asked, as the tall man in front of her, wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Come away with me, Hermione."

"Have you all gone mental?" she asked.

Dean, too, attempted to get up close and personal with her lips, but this time something quickly pulled her upward and away from the crowd.

Her brown eyes met gray ones, and she sighed in relief.

"What's going on?"

Draco and Hermione were both standing on top of her desk now, as the crowd closed in around them.

"I have no idea, Granger, but I would take off those heels you're wearing."

They found themselves being pressed closer together as people closed in around the desk trying to get to them.

"My heels, what? Why?"

"Because first we're going to jump, and then we're going to run."

Her face paled, but she did as she was told. As soon as she took off her heels, hands from the mob reached out and nabbed them. People all around them were shouting their names. She thought briefly that there had to be a better way, but she felt Draco's hand close around her elbow, and a rush of adrenaline flowed through her. The idea was ludicrous at best, but certainly possible. The people were squeezed together closely and leaning far over her desk. It shouldn't be too hard to clear them all with one good jump.

"Ready?"

She didn't even have time to answer before she felt him tug on her arm. Holding her breath, she leapt over the heads of the horde surrounding her desk. She hit the ground hard and a pain shot through her ankle. She barely had time to wince before Draco took hold of her hand and pulled her to her feet.

They took off running and could feel the pounding of feet behind them. It was an all-out chase and Hermione felt an exhilaration that she hadn't experienced since the end of the war. She heard Lavender's familiar voice ring out through the crowd.

"Draco! Wait for me! Take me with you!"

More voices joined hers.

"Hermione, marry me!"

"I love you, Draco!"

Hermione's ankle was throbbing and she was starting to fall behind. Draco reached for her, and his hand found hers again.

"Come on, Granger, unless you want a Valentine's Day massacre, I suggest you pick it up a bit."

Hermione was panting, but she did as she was told. They rounded a corner and saw their safe haven.

The lift.

They were about fifteen or twenty yards away, when Draco waved his wand and the doors flew open. When they jumped inside the lift, Draco immediately waved his wand again and the doors began to close. They could both hear the crowd closing in on them, but luckily the great metal doors shut just before their deranged throng of admirers reached them.

Panting, Hermione collapsed onto the floor. Draco pressed a button to go to another level and then joined her there.

"What in the name of Merlin was that?"

"I have no idea, but I'm suddenly considering a change of career, maybe even country. Care to join me, Granger?"

They both laughed and leaned heavily against the elevator walls.

"Gods, you have no idea how tempting that is." She paused and then continued, "What do we do now?"

"I don't know, go home? It's got to be something to do with this stupid holiday. I can only hope that everything will be back to normal tomorrow."

Hermione stood, as the elevator neared the Atrium.

"I agree. I think I want to forget that this day ever happened."

A shrill ding signified that they had reached their destination. Slowly, Draco stood, and they waited as the doors opened.

The lift opened to reveal the normal hustle and bustle of the Ministry atrium.

Hermione was halfway out the door when Draco's hand closed around her elbow again.

"What?"

"Look."

She looked up to see the crowd parting to reveal a group of people running. A group running, more specifically, towards her and Draco.

"Oh gods."

They were safely back inside the lift before you could say 'Quidditch.' After visits to three more levels, all of which were home to the same… er…affectionate multitude, they finally gave up. Draco waited until they were between levels, and then pressed the emergency stop button, effectively locking them safely inside the lift.

"I hate this day," Draco grumbled, as they both slumped against the wall. Hermione merely grunted in reply.

"I just don't understand." She sighed. "Explain to me why they are chasing us."

Removing something from his pocket, he answered," I think it might have something to do with this."

He tossed the red envelope on the floor that they'd been fighting over earlier.

"This card?"

He nodded, "I noticed that several people had these in their hands."

She contemplated the card for a moment, turning it over and over in her hands. Draco's eyes were drawn to her lips. She had a habit of biting her lip when she was thinking, and she was certainly thinking very hard at the moment.

She broke the seal of the envelope and removed the card. She carefully held the card far away from her face, opened it, and laid it flat on the floor a few feet away. Three seconds passed before a puff of pink smoke rose from the valentine. They shared a meaningful look and waited for the pink dust to settle before retrieving the card.

All it took was one look at the card to understand the mass hysteria happening around them.

"Fred and George."

"The Weasleys? I should have known."

Hermione took great pleasure in tearing the card in half and handing Draco his own section to mutilate. After successfully destroying the card, the slumped back against the wall.

"What now? Do we just wait until whatever the Weasleys did wears off?"

"I suppose so."

"We wait?"

"We wait."

Fourteen sighs, three possessive-mob checks, and 999 bottles of butterbeer on the wall later, they were officially out of things to do.

Draco was flat on his back in the middle of the lift, throwing the wadded-up Valentine's card back and forth with Hermione.

"I'm bored out of my fucking mind, Granger."

"You're not alone there."

"So do something about it."

She scoffed, "I'm not here as your entertainment, Malfoy."

"Too bad, a striptease could have distracted me for a while."

Blood rushed into her cheeks as she sputtered to find words, "Y-You! Ugh, you're a complete prat, do you know that?"

"Of course I do. Well, since you shot down my suggestion, it's your turn to come up with something."

"We could talk?"

He snorted. "Right, Granger. I'm just overcome with excitement."

She rolled her eyes and looked the other way. The lift remained silent for a few minutes. It was Draco who spoke first.

"How's your mum?"

Hermione immediately tensed and refused to raise her eyes to his. Her mother had been hurt during a raid on their home during the war. It had been a long road to recovery, a recovery that still wasn't over.

"She's okay," Hermione whispered, "It's difficult, she's in and out of hospital a lot, but things are definitely looking much better."

"I'm glad to here that," he replied.

"Thank you for asking. How are things at the Manor?"

"Well, I never really see much beyond my bedroom, the dining room, and my study. Oh, and the library."

He saw her eyes light up at the mention of the library and continued, "You know, the Malfoy library is twice the size of the Hogwarts library." The sparkle in her eye only brightened and she sighed. "If you're nice, I might just let you visit."

Excitement seemed to just bubble out of her. "Really?"

"Really."

"Oh, that would be fantastic. Do you have a favorite book?"

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped, "No, not really."

She eyed him strangely before replying, "You Slytherins are such liars."

"Good liars," he added, "There's a difference."

She just laughed, "Well, my favorite book is Wuthering Heights. I wouldn't expect you to know much about it, as it's a Muggle book."

He merely raised an eyebrow and nodded for her to continue.

"It's wonderfully written and a really beautiful but sad story. You actually remind me a lot of a character in it."

Draco, who had read the book after all, immediately thought of the rich and sophisticated Edgar Linton.

"His name is Heathcliff."

"What? I'm not poor and violent and broody."

She donned a surprised look momentarily before continuing, "Well, maybe not poor, but violent and broody sort of fits."

He scoffed and said, "I suppose that you're Catherine?"

She blushed vibrantly and he was struck with the thought that she looked very pretty. His eyes were drawn back to her lips; they were pink and, oh, so inviting. He was immediately snapped out of the trance as she began to speak.

"You've read it."

"I have. So tell me, is your love for me 'like the eternal rocks beneath'?"

Her blush only deepened, and Draco found that he quite liked it when she blushed.

"Have I mentioned that you're a prat?"

"Yes, that's actually ten times this week."

"Good, because I wouldn't want you to forget."

They shared a small laugh. She was the only person he knew that could go toe to toe with him in a witty repartee, and there was the added bonus of her tendency to blush.

His mouth seemed to move of its own accord and the words were out before he could stop them.

"Why did you forgive me?"

She tensed again, but this time she looked straight at him. She sighed and gathered her thoughts for a moment.

"I had to." She shrugged.

"Care to elaborate?"

"I don't know. I just—there was so much hate in my life. More hate than love. Gods, that sounds so pathetic, but it's the truth. And I couldn't really do much about hating Voldemort or the Death Eaters, because I needed that hate to keep going. But I had to let go of some of it, so, it had to be you."

"Glad to know I was your last resort."

"Would you like me to hate you again? Because you know, Voldemort is gone, so I do have a vacancy."

"No, please, save your hatred for a more worthy cause."

"You're funny." She scoffed.

"I try."

"This is ridiculous." She sighed.

"What, my sarcasm? I thought you'd be used to it by now, Granger."

She laughed, but then turned more serious, "No, I'm talking about this… us. We're hiding in a lift of all places from a Valentine's Day mob." She paused for a moment and laughed. "Sorry, it's just, you only get to say a sentence like that every hundred years or so."

"Ah, well, knowing your entanglement with the Weasleys, I would think it would be more often than that."

"Speaking of the Weasleys, I'm going to kill Fred and George."

"Kill them?" He replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "Today might have been the best day of my life. I should thank them."

She laughed. "Thank them? Must you go that far?"

"Of course. I always give praise where it's due."

She laughed. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"There you go with that lying again."

"No, I'm serious. I told you that you were brilliant that one time."

She snorted and replied, "You were being sarcastic, that hardly counts."

"Sure it does. Just because my tone was sarcastic doesn't mean that my words weren't true."

She paused for a moment and regarded him softly. "Well then, thank you. Should I take all your sarcasm for truth in the future?"

He smirked and said, "Why not? Go ahead."

She grinned wickedly and he found his eyes drawn to her lips yet again. He was drawn so strongly that he actually felt himself leaning towards her ever so slightly.

"So you think I'm attractive?"

He sputtered and almost choked. A light spattering of pink appeared across his cheeks.

"What? What did you just say?"

"Earlier in the day, you told me that you'd never seen me look more attractive. And since I'm taking all your sarcasm for truth, then I have to assume that you meant it."

He stuttered for a moment, uncharacteristically, looking almost nervous. It actually brought a smile to her face. He looked rather adorable when he was nervous.

"I-I-I…well…like I said, I always give praise where it's due."

It was her turn to look surprised. And it seemed that her face was constantly seeking to be holiday-appropriate today, because it turned red for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. She suddenly noticed how very close they were. His hand gently caressed her cheek, and it seemed all she could do was blink… a lot. He moved until he was directly in front of her on his knees.

Then he spoke, and his tone was so very sarcastic that it almost made her pull back, until she realized what he was saying.

"You're gorgeous, Granger."

She opened her mouth, only to close it just as quickly.

With his sarcastic façade still in place, he smirked and continued, "I've never met anyone like you. You're the brightest, kindest, most amazing witch of the age, and I wish you'd be mine."

Her brain seemed to catch up to her heart, which was beating furiously as though if it worked hard enough, it could beat its way out of her chest. She smiled then, and did her best to sound sarcastic.

"Who wouldn't want to be yours, Draco Malfoy?"

Their mouths were inches apart and he could feel this heat radiating from her.

"I don't know, would you?"

She kissed him then. And it didn't matter that they'd been trapped in a lift for hours, or that they were being hunted by crowd of admirers, or that his declaration of his feelings was saturated with sarcasm.

It just mattered that his lips were firm yet yielding against hers. It mattered that his hand was leaving a trail of heat in its wake as it traced the curve of her back and pulled her up until she was even with him. It mattered that her chest was pressed so tightly against his that she couldn't tell the difference between his heartbeat and her own. It mattered that there was a heat forming low in her belly and he was completely responsible.

It mattered.

His hand ghosted across the sensitive skin of her breast. She arched towards him and situated herself across his lap, a leg on each side. His lips found her neck, as she ground her lower body against his. His mouth found hers again and she groaned into his mouth.

"Should I take that as a yes, Hermione?"

She tried to muster up something sarcastic, but it came out as more of a breathy moan.

"I guess you've trapped me into it."

His fingers were working deftly on the buttons of her shirt. He placed a light kiss on her sternum before continuing lower.

"Good, because I don't plan on letting you go."

He heard her whisper, "Good", but it was overtaken by a moan as his lips found the peak of her breast through the fabric of her bra. Her fingers worked feverishly to undo the buttons of his white oxford, and were rewarded with a smooth expanse of toned chest.

Her fingernails grazed against his pectoral muscles lightly and he groaned into the curve of her neck. He wanted to have her right here, but he knew that the lift wasn't the most ideal place, not for their first time anyway.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered against her skin.

"Apparate?" She pulled back quickly in realization. "Why didn't we think of that before?"

He pulled her back against him, cupping her arse firmly in his hands. "I'm honestly glad we didn't. It's one more reason for me to thank those Weasley twins. "

With a small pop, they disappeared and reappeared atop the green silken sheets of Draco's bed.

And that is how Draco and Hermione came to be joined, and I don't mean just by a conjunction.

On that day, they went from having one thing in common, to having several—things that weren't just important one day of the year.

Both continued to hate Valentine's Day with a passion that was second only to the passion they felt for each other, but they held a certain appreciation for magical Valentines and for the Weasley twins. They were, after all, the reason that the two had ended up trapped… ever after.

A/N: A HUGE thanks goes to my beta Eilonwy! And I'm working on that Moments of Sanity update, so never fear!

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!