AN - Once again, I advise that you pay attention to the date and time.

Disclaimer - Still not mine.

Summary - What goes around, comes around, and that's the truth. The tale of five MofM employees and how their lives were twisted together by fate's sense of humour. An odd mixture of horror, suspense, angst, humour and romance, but a good read! I promise.

Oh The Irony! - By Nestle

"Sentimental irony is a dog that bays at the moon while pissing on graves." - Karl Kraus

Christmas Eve 1996, 5:09 am.

"ATHERTON!"

Elsie flinched, turning to stare at the back of the room angrily. Whoever it was who had just yelled for her better have a good reason otherwise she would throttle them. Speaking in front of reporters was bad enough, but when you had to do it with Muggle reporters and lie through your teeth it was even more nerve-racking. And she was still shaking after the attack; so she didn't exactly appreciate someone making her jump a few seconds before she was due to speak.

At first she couldn't see who had yelled, and she squinted confusedly into the flashing lights of the cameras that surrounded her, then she spotted some sort of commotion at the back of the tent, and several reporters facing the wrong way. A hand suddenly popped up through the crowd and waved enthusiastically.

Elsie blinked, who? Mark Dawlish's head suddenly popped up, and she groaned loudly. Just perfect.

After a few moments of quiet panic, Elsie decided to ignore Mark, and start her speech anyway. She cleared her throat and tapped the microphone.

"Excuse me. Excuse me!" She called out, the reporters who had been crowding around Mark turned towards her, and she suddenly realised why they had been so interested in him – he was wearing robes! Elsie clenched her teeth and shot Mark a glare, who shrugged guiltily and slouched to the back of the room, away from the reporters.

"In view of today's devastating events, and the confusion that has followed, the officials saw that it was important that the press was notified immediately and given the full facts." Elsie paused, and licked her dry lips, wishing she had a glass of water. She spotted Mark making his way back through the tent flap, she hoped he didn't leave; she still wanted to yell at him.

"At approximately 11:40, yesterday night, the gas which had been leaking in the edge of Milton Keynes town centre, sparked. This resulted in a large explosion, killing many of the occupants in the town. As of yet, we do not know the source of the spark, or how long the gas had been leaking."

Several of the reporters were raising their hands with questions, but Elsie ploughed on, remembering she had told herself not to get distracted.

"So far, the medics have estimated that around 80 people were killed immediately, 15 have died since, and 7 more are in a critical condition. Other survivors have only minor injuries and have either been released or will be very soon." Elsie paused to scan the room, "Thank you. Another report will be released at a later date. Goodbye."

Ignoring the sudden roar of voices, she turned and walked back through the curtain, only to come face to face with Mark.

"Hello!"

"You-"

"Happy to see me as always Atherton, you never do change. You seen George or Patrick around anywhere?"

Elsie scowled, and shook her head, "No. Were they dueling?"

"Of course not! The Auror's weren't even called till after the Obliviators had cleaned up!" Mark's eyes glinted, and he scowled.

"What? Why did they do that?"

Mark tilted his head and looked at her condescendingly. "Oh Else! I know you get distracted with your important little duties, but I'd advice you to pay attention to the latest news on the budget at least."

"Oh shut up, the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee is a extremely important sector of-" Elsie never got to finish her sentence.

"A sector that only has two people working in it."

Elsie sighed loudly, and replied, "An absolute git as always Dawlish, you never do change."

"It seems neither of us do, we'll both just have to spend eternity arguing with each other then, if we'll never reach an agreement. At least I'll be happy knowing you're going through as much hell as me."

Before Elsie could retort, a second voice spoke up. "But if I remember correctly, you two used to be very happy at the prospect of spending eternity together."

Both Elsie and Mark spun round to face Patrick Williamson and Georgia Richmond, Mark's joy at seeing them was severely hindered by his annoyance at Patrick's comment. Elsie managed to brush it off though.

"Paddy! George!" She exclaimed, hugging both the Auror's. "I haven't seen you in ages! Has Mark been hiding you from me? I know he has that twisted rule where his friends can't stay friends with his old girlfriends." Elsie laughed, "As if it's his choice!"

"I would not force them Elsie, so stop acting like I do." Mark spat out angrily.

"Hush now, no one cares what you have to say. Anyway Patrick, how are your brothers? I miss them, they were always so much fun!" Elsie said

Mark snorted, and muttered, "Yeah right! Like that was the only reason you liked them."

"Don't be silly Mark," George replied grinning, "The fact that they're extremely handsome helps a great deal. It makes a nice change seeing them, compared to Patrick's ugly mug of a face that is."

Patrick sent her a withering look, but she didn't notice, as she and Elsie had already begun chatting animatedly. Mark turned to Patrick.

"Everything go OK?" He asked.

"It was just perfect – come see what we've got for you." Patrick turned, and walked out the tent, Mark followed him; Georgia turned her head and watched them leave,

"You two have still got such great chemistry!"

"Oh don't start George, he was a prat when we were together, and he's still a prat now, nothing's changed." She sighed, "Did you realise he practically ruined my press conference today?" Georgia raised the eyebrow above her one eye, "Fine. He didn't ruin it as such, it's just because of him nothing went-"

George cut her off. "-exactly to plan? Elsie, you really need to burn that schedule of yours."

"I know, I know."

"That's why you and Mark were so good together, you brought some order into his life and he made you loosen up!" George seemed determined to make Elsie see her point of view.

"George please, we're over remember, he doesn't like me any-"

"Yes he does. I know he does." Elsie squinted at her, suspicion making her doubt her friend.

"How?" She asked.

"Well, Patrick…" Georgia looked uncomfortable all of a sudden, "Patrick guessed that he did, because of the way he acted around you and he told me, and I agreed with him, and now I've told you so you can do something about it!"

"So we're basing this 'fact' merely on Patrick's sense of observation?" Elsie laughed, "I have so much faith!"

"Oh, don't be like that! He does still like you, and besides you like him, otherwise you would have denied it way before now."

"George! Come on! We have reports." Patrick stood at the tent flap, gesturing that they had to leave. The two women began to walk towards him, he was grinning by the time they reached him, "Mark's in the secure hold Else. He could do with some company." Elsie scowled.

"Bye now Elsie, don't ignore what I told you." George said, before following Patrick out the tent.

Elsie stood on her own fidgeting. Should she go see Mark? There was no reason why not; they were still friends – sort of. She didn't mean anything by it, no matter what George said. No, she decided, I wont, just to show Patrick.

Five minutes later she was entering the secure hold, a temporary shed like building.

"Bugger." She cursed, realising she'd gone completely against what she'd said she would do.

"Elsie?"

"Hello." She said pleasantly, walking over to Mark with a smile on her face. See, she could be nice.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, shutting the door of the secure hold.

"Nothing. Why?" She asked, the super chipper grin still in place.

"You're being nice – it's not normal."

The grin dropped immediately, replaced by a scowl. "Fine." She growled, "If you insist. I wont be nice to you. You're a stupid prat anyway."

"Now, now!" Mark said, holding up his hands defensively, "I was just commenting on your unusual smile – I don't often see it. I never said it was a bad thing."

"Suck up." She muttered, but grinned at him anyway. He hasn't shaved, Elsie realised suddenly, the dirty bugger. Still, she didn't mind him with a bit of stubble; he looked quite handsome actually, in a 'I'm-pathetic-but-adorable-and-you-can't-resist' way.

She blinked, remembering that she was staring, "What's behind the door?" She asked quickly to break the silence. He jolted in surprise, and Elsie realised he'd been staring at her too. She smirked.

"Oh, uh- Deatheater. Unconscious. Patrick and George found him. Can't disclose his name." He murmured.

"Yeah, yeah, I remember the drill." Elsie grabbed for his arm and ended up holding his hand. Completely by accident, she mocked herself, "Come on Mark. Let's go get a drink." She dragged him towards the exit.

"Beer!" He asked expectantly.

"It's nearly six in the morning!"

"Or late at night… depending how you see it." Mark smirked.

"Coffee. We shall get coffee." He pulled on her hand reluctantly, "You can buy me a beer tonight though, if you want." She turned to smile at him, and continued to the door, he was following willingly now.

Elise pulled back the tent flap, but she froze immediately when she saw who was behind it… and what they were doing. Her mouth fell open.

Behind her, Mark grinned.

Christmas Eve 1996, 5:57 am.

"GEORGIA RICHMOND!"

A shrill shriek echoed around Georgia's ears, and she pulled back, her cheeks slowly turning pink. She span round to look at Elsie and Mark framed in the doorway.

Behind her, Patrick grinned.

"Excellent." Mark said, nodding his head and smirking at Patrick. Georgia's cheeks flushed an even deeper red. Oh lord…

"You were- you…" Elsie stuttered, waving her hands around to show her bewilderment.

Georgia suddenly noticed that Mark and Elsie were stood very close. Her eye travelled down their arms and reached their linked hands. Slowly, she raised an eyebrow. Elsie followed her gaze, and blushed as deeply as Georgia. Patrick had noticed too.

"Excellent." He said, smirking at Mark. The two women ignored them.

"Holding hands?" Georgia asked, grinning.

Elsie spluttered, and retaliated the only way she knew how, "Kissing!"

Christmas Eve 1996, nearly twenty minutes earlier, 5:40 am.

"Bye now Elsie, don't ignore what I told you." Georgia advised, turning to follow Patrick out the tent.

"You didn't really mean that did you?" She asked a few seconds later, having caught up with Patrick.

"What?"

"The reports – you don't really expect us to start them now."

"Of course not! That was the only way I could think of getting you away so that Elsie is free to go visit Mark." Patrick grinned.

"Wishful thinking that is, she hates him."

"Oh, I don't think so."

Georgia laughed. "You know if you turn out to be wrong about Mark, you're gonna' get a mouthful from Elsie."

Patrick turned around, a teasing smile on his face; "Oh so suddenly it's only me who thinks he's still got a thing for her?"

Georgia stared at him through her one eye, amusement glinting in it's green depths, "Of course, and it will be until they get together. Then it'll have been all my idea." She sent him a dazzling smile; he only rolled his eyes.

"Of course George."

They carried on moving through the sections of the tent, and Georgia wondered where exactly Patrick was planning on going. She contemplated going home and catching up on some much needed sleep, but decided against it. She looked up at Patrick: for some reason she didn't want to go home just yet.

"If not reports, then what are we going to do?" She asked.

"Spy on Elsie and Mark of course!" He turned and grinned at her, "She should have gotten there by now."

Georgia shook her head, "You're so sad sometimes."

"You're following me still aren't you?"

"No. I just happen to be going in the same direction."

"I'm sure."

They reached the tent flap and hovered outside, straining to hear the mumbling voices from inside the room. "Can you understand them?" Georgia asked.

"No, they must be right next to the hold door." Patrick frowned, "Bugger, here I was hoping we'd witness first hand Mark's pathetic pick up lines."

Georgia couldn't stop herself from scoffing, "This coming from you! I've always wondered how such an in-control and confident Auror could turn into a drooling wreck when a pretty girl is nearby."

He looked at her startled, "You really mean that?"

"What? About you rivalling a dog with how much you salivate? Yeah, sure."

He frowned, "No! About me being an 'in-control and confident Auror'."

She paused, flicking her gaze up to him and back down to her feet. "Yes, I did." She looked up at him again to find his face a mixture of happiness and pride. "If I didn't I'd hardly work with you would I?" She finished, dampening the compliment slightly. His grin stayed though.

Patrick squinted at her suspiciously, "Ya' know, despite all your insults and harsh words, I think you're a nice person really."

She faked anger, "Darn! You've discovered my darkest secret!"

Patrick chuckled, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

"You better not." She grinned up at him, meeting his gaze. Very quickly, their laughter stopped. The atmosphere was suddenly tense. Georgia bit her lip slightly. They continued to stare at each other.

Patrick wasn't aware of stepping forward, but he noticed that she was very close all of a sudden. Her gaze was flickering all over his face; trying to read him; searching.

"Patrick…" She started warily, but never got to finish, as he'd bent down and caught her lips with his own.

The kiss was short, and he pulled back slightly, staring into her eye. Georgia let out a long breath, it was warm against his skin and Patrick had to stop himself from sighing contentedly. He couldn't read her expression at all. He began to mumble an apology, about to back away, when she reached up and snaked an arm around his neck.

"Oh do shut up Patrick." She said, smirking, before kissing him herself.

The day before: December 23rd 1996, 8:03am.

"PEASEGOOD!"

Arnold Peasegood stumbled backwards in surprise, his shoes sliding on the polished wood of the floor. With a loud thud, he fell flat on his arse in the middle of the Atrium.

Muttering to himself, he looked up at the woman who had thought it amusing to scream his name the moment he apparated. The witch in question grinned at him, her one eye sparkling.

"Good Morning George." He grumbled, accepting her offered hand.

"And you Arnold. My, I didn't expect you to react like that! It was rather funny though, don't you think?" Georgia Richmond laughed, "You should have seen your face!"

He sent her a withering look, "I'm sure I would have found it hilarious. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Oh don't be tetchy Arnold, it's a beautiful day!" Georgia fell into step with him towards the elevators.

"Hmm…" He said, "Or it will be until Magical Maintenance realise just how much their budget has been cut."

His companion looked grim, "Yes, it was all a bit of a shock wasn't it? I still can't believe it."

Arnold smiled at her encouragingly, "Don't worry, I know you Auror's will still continue to work hard even with limited resources!"

She scoffed, "Ah yes, we'll just be nicking them from the Obliviator Headquarters!"

The elevator reached Level Three, "Bye then Arnold, hope I didn't scare you too much before. You should try it with someone though, it's very funny." Georgia smirked.

Arnold stepped off, "It'll come back around to you George; just you wait and see." He winked at her before the doors closed.

Bah! Georgia thought, no chance!

AN - I do hope you enjoyed that. I thought the ending was fitting, after all, what goes around comes around! Review if you feel like it, though bear in mind it would make me very happy.