The Office

Author's note: There's not a whole lot I have to really say about this one. It's … very different to the other stuff I have up here. I'm currently procrastinating. I have major exams right now but can't be terribly stuffed to study. Rah rah rah!

Everybody is OOC, and le plot is… pretty much a funny embarrassment to canon. Also, um… Draco redeemed himself. I'm sorry I haven't been bothered to include context on how he became able to move able the civil or whatever but this is just a silly thing. That is the exact reason why Aberforth (goat man!) got Minister of Magic!

The Office

Liberté, Equalité et Fraternité

These words looped across the top of the telephone booth, the local community was baffled at the pretty graffiti that never seemed to disappear. One day, a worker would clean or replace the top of the booth, only for the graffiti to appear not less than a day later. It had been months since it had finally been torn down by a passionate totalitarian muggle. Yet it still stood tall, only visible to non muggles, you know… wizards.

And witches, of course…

Oh yes, and the rest of the wizarding world - the veelas, the vampires, the garden gnomes, the whole lot. This wasn't an ordinary phone booth, obviously. And it was only visible to the muggles because of a botch up at the new Ministry of Magic.

Minister Dumbledore, Aberforth that is, had been appointed the position when all others had either failed to be receive the votes, or had died in the war. In gratitude to the British Government, he decided on a Muggle Awareness Campaign.

When first proposed, Draco had initially thought it was an interesting idea, until Dumbledore announced its first event, `Muggle Week'. It essentially meant that the Ministry would run without practical magic for seven whole days. And that Draco's department, the Department of Regulation, would have to supervise every other part of the Ministry.

There were exclusions of course, like the Department of Mysteries and Regulation. And participation was compulsory. At first, everyone had thought it was an fascinating idea and it was decided that the Ministry would run on magic based electricity.

Which is muggle themed, and that was what counted.

The first couple of days were hard for most. The majority of wizards had never seen muggle stationary. They had never had to use a photo copier or a fax machine. Productivity was lower than it had ever been, but the Minister was adamant of teaching the Ministry a lesson or two about muggles. One the third day the workers had turned restless, one the fourth, almost desperate for magic.

The fifth day was something like hell had broken loose and the sixth… well…

The only one Draco Malfoy had recognised in his assigned department was Ginny Weasley, who was supposedly the departments assistant supervisor. At first, he had thought he could rely on her to aid him. He was wrong, on the fourth day he had had to restraint her magically after she had tried to attack him. She had just grinned in midair, and he had realised that what they all were fighting for, was a bit of magic. Just like drug addicts.

It was almost disgusting.

Today was the second last day of `Muggle Week', he and many others who were regulators were hoping that the workers would realise that the week was nearly over and calm down. Their reports at the end of the day were almost always the same. Productivity was ever decreasing, if not completely at a halt.

He entered the office with bated breath, and sat down at his desk. Before him, were the seven workers, he watched them fiddle with their staplers and hole punchers, he watched them sort and resort their stationary by colour, size and function until he felt like his eyes were about to bleed.

“Hands off me stationary!” the only other man named Richard Fitzgerald shouted at the woman next to him. “Get your own sign machine!”

“Label maker, Fitzgerald. Label maker.” Draco corrected dully.

“I can't use the copying machinery. I think its broken Mr. Malfoy. It needs…”

“Repairing, I think…” Ginny Weasley piped.

He looked at her pointedly, “Is that so?”

The redhead nodded with enthusiasm, “A small… `reparo' would do it.”

“Cheap shot, Ginny!” Richard called out.

“Worth a try, Fitzie!”

Draco turned to Croft, who had complained in the first place. “Croft, have you checked the paper tray?”

“Sorry, the what tray?”

“Paper, Croft, paper…”

“She's never going to get it by you waving around foreign words at her, Mr. Malfoy,” Ginny snapped, “Fiona; it's the white smooth parchment thing that's not really parchment.”

Draco rolled his eyes and turned to find Ginny gazing at him with a hardened look, and shrugged.

The first hour, everyone tried to work. After the first hour, the day before, things started to get a bit hysterical. Yesterday had made Draco, a full grown adult, want to cry with despair. Ginny Weasley has sighed periodically throughout the day for the attention of others, and come up with ideas to let them see some magic. They had spilt water everywhere, soaked the rugs, the curtains, and every other place conceivable.

When they returned from their lunch break they had turned completely manic, screaming “We can smell the magic! The magic was here!”

It had brought a few desperate wizards to their office, they also wanted the magic. Then she had sighed loudly and somehow made Fiona say to him.

“Draco Malfoy, I love thee. Please, conjure thy beloved a flower.”

But today, it was after the third silent unproductive hour that she finally started.

She sighed, her mouth breaking into a large grin. She looked around; everyone was decidedly looking at their own desks. Clearing her throat again, she took a large breath in before giving an even louder sigh.

Draco had heard rumours that she was going to try and seduce him, steal his wand and go on a magic spree. He didn't really know how to feel about that rumour, but anticipation and anxiety made his hand twitch toward his wand every so often. Just incase she was going to try anything…

His eyes were glued on his paperwork; he even ruffled them and rubbed his eyes again to regain focus. He would not look up at that annoying woman; he would not give her the satisfaction of getting their attention. It would not work this time. With his newly enforced threats to the others that they would get fired instantaneously if they asked Ginny why she was sighing. Today, everyone was going to do their work or at least pretend they were!

She sighed again, without showing much impatience. This went on for an hour before finally, he snapped.

“WHAT IS IT?” he barked.

As soon as he yelled out, the rest of the office settled with contentment and relief.

“He has green hair… I mean, green eyes and sandy hair.” She began dreamily.

The women of the office leaned forward in their seats. Draco reached inside his suit for his wand.

“…and the single most cutest arse I've seen in my life!” she said excitedly, “… the Quidditch type, you know.”

The women giggled excitedly.

The man in the desk beside Draco sighed, the women turned to him. “She has flaming red hair and gorgeous chocolate eyeballs...”

Draco looked up at the rather rotund man abruptly. Then he noticed his sandy hair and (he squinted) most probably green eyes. Richard.

He heard Weasley give out a hearty laugh.

“She's got the perkiest little tits I've ever had the luck to set my eyes on,” Richard continued, “and I bet her mum's pretty chuffed.”

The office roared with laughter. Even Draco couldn't help with appreciate just how far Ginny Weasley's breasts were from little.

”Hey!” Ginny said indignantly, “Don't bring my dear mum into this!”

“Then don't bring my dear generous arse!” Richard exclaimed with laughter, patting his bum lightly, “and it's not fair you discriminate because I don't like Quidditch!”

Ginny gave him a deadpanned expression. “But that isn't why, Richard.”

The office laughed again.

“You told me not liking Quidditch was a mortal sin against the Gods of `Yay!' just yesterday…” Richard replied shortly.

She grinned brightly, and Draco blanched a bit. “Oh, but it is Richard. You must be punished!”

He glanced around at the rest of the office; they were rattling their pens on their desks rapidly, muttering under their breath. “God's of `Yay!'”

Draco watched warily as the redhead bounded from behind her own desk and raced toward Richard, who looked at her with a drooling cross eyed face (to which Draco's expression turned to one of pure disgust). The small woman pulled the large man on his wheeled chair from his desk into the middle of the office and cackled loudly, her fingers curled up above her head.

The office watched intently, while Ginny took out the tape dispenser, placed a bit on his shirt and danced around Richard. Draco watched them both laugh at their own antics, until Richard was completely bounded by the tape.

Then he was wheeled in front of Draco. Ginny then cleared her voice, “Richard Fitzgerald, Mr Malfoy… Skill and potential for this employer seems to be… incapacitated and productivity has completely halted.”

He looked at Richard in the chair and saw him nodding. Draco really wanted to put his head into his hands and cry in frustration, instead he said. “Merlin, I'm so sick of you people.”

“But wait, Mr. Malfoy… there's more!” Ginny exclaimed, “I heard his disability can be cured with a… dare I say it? Oh my…”

Richard beside motioned his body and his muffled voice agreed with her.

“Yes, Richard? Oh yes, Mr. Malfoy… I heard it's called… `scourgify'”

The office gasped in unison, Draco gave them a bored stare.

“You.” He pointed at Ginny, “Get back to work.”

“And you…” he pointed to Richard, “You are sick. Go home.”

The sellotaped man's eyes lit up. The others looked on enviously as the man, hobbled out of the office.

“One down, six to go!”

Ginny grinned at the rest of the office widely, as they broke into applause. Her bright gaze fell when she faced Draco's hardened face. “I'm sorry; did you want to escape too? One down, seven to go, then! Is that all right?”

Draco ignored her insinuation, “What do you want now, Weasley.”

She blinked, “Isn't that obvio-”

“Try subtlety.” He interrupted.

“Ok…” she said slowly. “I… don't feel appreciated here.”

“After that previous display, Miss Weasley, I highly doubt they rest of the office don't appreciate you.”

“Well, what do you appreciate about me? I mean, being unappreciated by my own supervisor is pretty disheartening and I'm a sensitive woman! I NEED EMOTIONAL MANAGEMENT AND CARE! I-”

She stopped as she caught Draco looked her up and down, when their gazes met his look of satisfaction and met with one of outrage.

“Don't get gross with me, Malfoy!”

“That hurts. Am I that bad that you wouldn't want to get gross with me?”

Ginny stepped back with shock, her eyes scanning his face. Inwardly, Draco found himself to be enjoying the office's shell shocked demeanors, after everything they had just made him put up with. He pushed further.

“What does one need to prove to one's potential date to propose an outing of implied grossness?” He asked, his gaze piercing her nervous eyes, “We both know that I… play Quidditch.”

Ginny looked horrified.

Draco felt satisfaction flood through him with immense gratitude after a few more satiating moments he relented, “All right you can all leave now.”

Honestly, they were the ones who were acting like they needed to be submitted into St. Mungo's and when I try my first joke they all freak out.

No one moved. It was if no one had really heard him let them off, they were still grappling with the idea of what he had just said to Ginny. Had he been that convincing?

“What? No bloody Gods of `yay!'? LEAVE! I'll tell upstairs that productivity has completely shut down and has shown signs of the reversals of your puny minds.”

One by one, they left the office. The last one out was Ginny, who looked back at him for a little bit longer than the others. While the others looks were still ones of shock, when he first saw her, hers was still completely horrified but it changed before him into something different. It unnerved him.

Perhaps, he thought, she had considered his suggestion. Who knew what the last day of our Dumbledore's `Muggle Week' could bring? Maybe he might be tempted to propose some grossness…

And that, he thought, was certainly an interesting idea.

-Enfin, it is `Fin'-

Final Author's Note: See? Much lighter than my previous `emo' drivel. The Gods of `Yay!' shout for silly drivel… yes, yes they do.

-->