“Good morning,� Draco grumbled as he fell into a seat at the counter in their kitchen. He let his chin plop to onto his upturned calms, and closed his eyes slowly. He wished he was still in bed, where feathery pillows tickled his face, as silk sheets comforted his body. He cracked one eye open, looking around for his wife, who he hoped would have some sort of coffee. He was, without a doubt, not a morning person.

“’Morning, love!� Hermione exclaimed happily, entering from a door to his left. She was carrying the morning paper, a cup of coffee, and an apple. Draco rolled his eyes as he realized that she was already dressed to leave the house.

“Merlin, woman, it’s only nine-o-clock!�

“You mean I’ve wasted nine hours already?� Hermione teased, coming over to kiss her husband on the cheek. She handed him the coffee and dropped the Daily Prophet on the counter.

Draco rolled his eyes, taking the coffee and quickly taking a sip. He sighed in relaxation. The mocha flavor of his cappuccino was one that he couldn’t live without. Leave it to Hermione to show him such an addicting Muggle drink, he thought, and reached out for the paper.

“Oh, by the way,� Hermione paused to take a bite out of the apple. Draco cupped his face and checked his watch every two seconds, implying that she needed to spit it out already. After seeing this, Hermione seemed to purposefully chew her apple more slowly, as if savoring the juicy Granny Smith.

“Yes?� Draco asked pointedly, holding back a laugh. Her face was moving in slow motion as she chewed the lasts of her bite.

“These two cards came in the mail; I’m not sure why.� She slid two chocolate frog cards at him from across the counter, and he glanced at them. One held the smiling face of Harry Potter, grinning foolishly and waving enthusiastically every so often. Draco bit back a smirk. Potter must’ve been so proud to be on a Chocolate Frog card. He picked it up, and discarded the other one with a wave of his hand. Draco turned the card over and read the information about Potter:

Harry James Potter: the Boy-Who-Lived. He defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the second Dark War.

Draco scoffed at the simplicity in which it was written. It said nothing about the hardships they all had to go through, the pains in which everyone dealt with. Just Potter, being Potter. Draco placed the card down on the counter, and took another sip from his coffee. He looked over at the Daily Prophet, rolling his eyes when he saw yet another picture of Potter. He pulled the article closer.

He and Ginny Weasley had just wed that weekend, and the Prophet could not report enough about it. Draco didn’t need to read the article – I was bloody there!He thought, smirking to himself. The perks of having a wife who was best friends with the one and only Harry Potter. He scanned the rest of the Prophet, a quick run-through of what else was going on in the Wizarding World. Nothing to worry about; everything seemed peaceful since the Dark Lord was defeated and all the Death Eaters were rounded up.

Besides me, he mused, though knowing he truly was not and could never have been a true Death Eater. He had joined the Order before the War, and fought alongside the ‘Light Side’, ultimately helping bring down the Dark Lord. But you don’t see me on any Chocolate Frog cards, now do you? He chuckled to himself and sipped his cappuccino.

“Draco?�

Draco’s cappuccino bliss was shattered into a billion pieces as Hermione’s voice cut through the air. He didn’t mind.

“Yes?�

“An owl just arrived again. It has a letter for you,� her voice carried through the adjoining door that lead to the living room. “That’s strange, isn’t it? I wonder why it didn’t come with the post.�

The door opened and Hermione handed him the letter as she took hold of the Daily Prophet. She smiled and gave Draco a peck on the cheek on her way out. “I’ll see you later; I’m off to work!�

Draco nodded absentmindedly as he tore open the envelope carefully. He reached inside and pulled out a very short message.

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

The ministry needs you to collect certain items from a few wizarding sweet factories.

You have a scheduled tour at the Chocolate Frog Factory at 9:30. Please, do not be late.

- Mr. Bleckley
Ministry of Magic

Draco reread the letter and looked to the clock. Damn, he thought, realizing he had all of 20 minutes to be dressed and at the tour. He left his still steaming cappuccino on the counter, and went to get ready.

***
“Um, excuse me?� Draco tried to hide his annoyance and raise his voice over the ruckus. No one even turned a head. Thirty or so workers were scattered around the property, wielding signs and chanting rhymes. Draco rolled his eyes and shifted his weight from one leg to another.

“Pay more or we’re out the door!�

Draco cocked an eyebrow at the school-student depth of the rhyme. He looked around, trying to find a leader of some sort. His suit was making him feel the trickle of sweat form on his back; he surely was not dressed to wait outside while these people paraded around in their rebellious glory.

His eyes settled on a man with his voice amplified by his wand. It seemed as if he was orchestrating the chants and marches of the workers. Draco walked over to him and called out.

“Excuse me, sir? I’m here for a tour. It was supposed to start,� Draco checked his watch, making sure the man picked up on his impatience, “about five minutes ago. I do not appreciate waiting out in the heat.� Draco snarled at the man, looking down at him even though he was perched on a small box. The man’s face was a furious red.

“Well you listen to me, alright? We here are on strike – we are not going to go into that building. You can take your ruddy tour by yourself. Don’t expect any help from us!� The man huffed at Draco and picked up his wand to his mouth, stepping onto his box in the process.

“Pay more or we’re out the door!�

Draco shook his head. “This is insanity,� he mumbled, wondering how he could get in touch with a manager or owner of some sort. He stepped back from the chaos sparked by the angered workers, and looked towards the factory itself. He spotted another man in a business suit fast-walk his way out of some double doors. That must be the owner, Draco concluded, watching the man begin to yell at the worker on his box. Draco could distinctly hear shouts of, “You’re fired! And you’re fired! And you, and you! All of you!�

Draco chuckled to himself as the owner took hold of his wand, amplified his voice, and re-exclaimed those same words over and over again. Draco checked his watch; almost ten. He decided to go meet with the man.

“Excuse me, sir. My name is Draco Malfoy. I was instructed by the Ministry to come here at 9:30 and receive a tour of your facilities. It is now,� Draco checked his watch, further emphasizing his anger at the situation, “ten-o-clock, and I am tour-less. Shall we get this started?�

“I’m very sorry, sir. As you can see, we have a problem on our hands.� He gestured grandly towards the workers on strike. “If you could just excuse me for a moment – I’m currently trying to hire gnomes to take over the jobs of all of these good-for-nothing workers!�

Draco nodded and watched with a smirk on his face as the man pulled out a cell phone. He began yelling into it, and Draco wondered why he was using such Muggle technology. He shrugged it off and after a few moments, cracks could be heard from across the field. One by one, gnomes began appear out of thin air. Draco took another step back and watched hysteria unfold. He sneered down at the little gnomes around him, just before he was surrounded by blackness.

***

Where am I? Draco thought, coughing out the dust that had entered his lungs. He opened his eyes slowly and realized there was no difference between his view with open eyes or closed ones. He blinked a few more times, trying to force his eyes to adjust.

In his subconscious, Draco heard shuffling feet and whispered words. He raised his head from the floor and realized that faint outlines of gnomes could be seen surrounding him. He quickly sat up.

The gnomes looked at him, some with suspicion and some with triumph. It dawned on Draco that these gnomes had taken him, and he was somewhere in their quarters. I must still be in the factory, he thought, dusting off his suit slightly.

“What?� he barked out at the gnomes, causing some to back away from his sitting form. “There’s nothing to see here! Get a move on!�

Quickly, the gnomes began to scatter away from him and go about their business. Draco stood up his full height and flipped his hair out of his eyes. Not that it helped. He was still in complete darkness, but his vision was getting there. He could almost see circular doors in the walls, but he wasn’t sure if they were just an illusion or not.

A string of murmurs filled the air and Draco suddenly stopped moving to focus on it. Astonished, he reached into his pocket, thinking the sound came from there.

Now how the hell did that get in there? Draco thought, pulling out a chocolate frog card. It was the same card from that morning: Harry Potter. His face was strangely illuminated in the darkness.

“Hello Draco,� Harry said from the card, smiling goofily at Draco’s stunned face. Since when do Chocolate Frog cards talk? he thought with disbelief. He rolled his eyes and smirked at Harry.

“Hello Potter. Is this a new trick of yours? Talking through Chocolate Frog cards?� Draco raised an eyebrow in questioning.

“Why, yes, it is. But only in the Chocolate Frog Factory. Don’t ask how, because I surely cannot tell you.�

Draco nodded and waited for the point of the conversation to arise, so he could merrily skip along on his way. Not.

“See, Chocolate Frog cards have a certain ability to be tracked at times by the person who’s face is on the card. With that said, we here noticed that you’re in the factory – in the gnomes’ levels. You need to get out of there -�

“Yes, Potter, I realized that, thank you!� Draco cut him off in annoyance. What an ability he had to state the obvious.

Harry gave a dry chuckle. “Yes, well, do you see the three doors around you?� Draco looked around and could make out the three circular doors. He nodded.

“Take the one to the righter-most one.�

“Firstly, Potter, I don’t think ‘righter-most’ is a word, and secondly, why should I?�

“Just listen to me, Draco.� Harry sighed at Draco’s stubbornness. “That will help you get to the exit.�

“Fine.� Draco huffed at two dimensional Harry, shoving the Chocolate Frog card back in his pocket. He turned on his heel and found the door most to the right. With slight arrogance in his step, he walked through the door, telling himself, choosing this door was my decision. Not Potter’s.

Draco’s long strides echoed in the shortest hallway he’d ever seen. Suddenly, he entered a brightly lit room, filled from top to bottom with assorted colored and flavored Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. Why on Earth are there Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans in a Chocolate Frog factory? Draco asked himself, with surprising disinterest to find the actual answer. The sweet smell of candy filled his senses and entranced him to close his eyes. Slowly, the savoring fruity scent convinced him to breathe sluggishly, and fully enjoy the intoxicating smell of sugar.

Such silence allowed Draco’s sense of hearing to pick up on the slight singing flowing throughout the room. Puzzled, his eyes shot open.

He looked around the room, and saw the subtlest movement in the heart of the mountain of beans. Draco took a curious step forward. Chuckles could be heard echoing from bean to bean, wall to wall, from the center of the mound. He listened to a few more silly verses before taking another step forward, wondering whether to say anything or not.

“Bertie Botts Jelly Beans!
Oh but by what means?
Every flavor on the Earth!
Sure to fill you with some mirth!

Chocolate Frogs, you say?
They’ll be sure to make your day!
Jump, jump, jump away!
Buy another one, you may!

Acid Pops, pops your mind!
Sour and sweet, so kind!
And all of these candies, you’ll find?
In this factory, confined!�

After watching the mountain rumble with song for another moment, Draco gave a final breathy laugh and walked out of the room through another door. This led him to what seemed to be a main hallway.

Many gnomes passed Draco as he walked, and he looked at them each curiously. Each wore an apron, but some had different emblems on them. One type had Chocolate Frogs on them, some had Bertie Botts Beans on them, some had Licorice Wands and other assorted Wizard candies Draco had seen on the trolley from his Hogwarts Express days.

It’s obvious that each gnome works with the candy on his or her apron, Draco thought, so why are all these Wizard candies in the same factory?

Realization slapped Draco in the face. All of Wizard kind’s candies are made in the same building, he concluded, and stopped to gawk at a few gnomes for a moment. Quickly recomposing himself when they stared back, he dusted himself off (though there was no dust) and kept moving down the hall. It seemed to be a lobby or main floor of some sort. Windows were lined every ten feet or so. All workers were mulling around, getting from here to there with the aide of lifts or stairs.

Draco walked over to a lift and saw a small map of some sort. He crouched down to read the gnome-leveled writing and was astonished. Seven floors and seven hundred rooms, he tried to grasp the amount of candy being made in one factory. Each floor held a different brand, and his floor was the main one.

Huh, he thought, standing up from his crouched position. He scratched the back of his neck and casually walked around for a moment and tried to blend despite his lack of apron and noticeable extra height.

He made his way to the closest window and cocked an eyebrow at the statues out in a back – or is it front? – yard. He could distantly make out the face of the man who had talked to him before, when the strike was taking place. Owners, he connected the dots. He turned back to the gnomes and spotted different types of candies he’d never seen before printed on their aprons. He leaned on the window sill and scratched his chin, thinking. . .

Oh. Comprehension as to why Draco was sent to the factory exploded on his mind like a water balloon. So that’s why I’m here! He thought, smirking as he was finally realizing what he had to do.

Then, again, realization and his mind made harsh impact. How am I supposed to get each different type of ruddy candy in this factory? That’ll take forever and a day! He silently glared at each passing gnome, as if they were the cause of his task. They’re bloody mad if they think I’m going to do that.

Stubbornly, Draco pulled out his wand and closed his eyes in one fluid motion. Tapping himself on the head harder than necessary, he felt a strange spinning sensation through the darkness that his eyelids provoked.

Swallowing hard, hoping his magic worked, he opened his eyes. Draco found himself in a front room of a house. He expected it was the owner’s house, seeing as that was what he was aiming for. And when am I ever wrong? He chuckled sarcastically, thinking about what Hermione would say to that thought. He smiled and looked around for a moment. The house was silent.

Draco pensively rubbed his hand against his mouth, with his thumb pivoting on his cheek. He looked side to side, in front and behind him. Through process of elimination, he looked up.

CRASH.

A meringue plopped onto his upturned face. He coughed out in surprise and quickly moved, where another treat fell to his feet. He moved around twice more, swiftly avoiding the falling deserts. He sneered and pierced his eyes around the room. Laughing erupted from everywhere.

“Who’s there?� He called out, rather foolishly. If there is a candy attacker somewhere, I severely doubt they’re going to answer me.

“Harry Potter, of course!�

Unless they’re very thick. Draco held in his laugh and looked around once more.

“Potter?� he asked, turning around.

“And don’t forget me!� A feminine voice broke through the house.

I know that voice, Draco thought, cocking an eyebrow. He always knew that mischievous little voice, always so smug after completing something she thought to be of great hilarity.

With a tug of her cloak, Hermione and Harry materialized in the air in front of Draco. Hermione playfully waved the cloak in front of his face, murmuring, “Invisibility cloaks sure do come in handy!�

Draco made a face at her and glared at Potter, angered at the closeness between the two. Harry quickly followed Draco’s gaze, smiled, and took a step sideways.

“Hey there, Draco,� Harry laughed, and stuck out his hand to shake. Draco glanced at it and crossed his arms.

“What in the name of Merlin are you two doing?�

“Having an affair,� Hermione explained, a teasing smile playing at her lips, “What else did you expect?� She laughed out loud at the expression on Draco’s face. He grinned and glared at the same time, knowing she was only joking.

Hermione innocently walked over to him and threw her arms around his broad shoulders. He succumbed to his love for her and pulled his arms around her waist, still wondering what this was all about.

“How’d you like it?� She whispered into his chest.

“Like what?� Draco asked, genuinely confused.

“The factory?� Hermione said, in the same questioning tone.

“What about the factory?�

“Err… Draco, it’s yours now.�

“It’s what?�

“Umm… Happy birthday?� Hermione ventured, hoping he would understand.

“You got me a factory for my birthday?�

“I thought it would be sweeter than this,� she said, and tip-toed her way to his lips. After a moment, Harry coughed, signaling to the married couple that he was in fact still in the room.

Draco ‘hmmm’-ed. “No, that’s still sweeter.� He licked his lips slowly for emphasis.

“Hello, you two, I’m still here. Let’s keep this G rated, shall we?� Harry interrupted their eyebrow waggling session.

Draco and Hermione laughed, and broke apart.

“I still don’t understand,� Draco told them, demanding an explanation.

“Well, you were supposed to take a tour of the entire factory so you could get acquainted with it. We were following you every step of the way, via Frog Card. We didn’t count on all of your new workers going on strike and being replaced by gnomes, but we decided to make the best out of it. The gnomes took you to the main level, where you were supposed to explore the rest of the floors.�

Hermione took a deep breath after exhibiting that speech, and looked to Harry. “Though, Harry, as you just saw, my husband is quite the lazy one and decided he did not want to go through to all the levels.�

“I object!� Draco hissed dangerously at Hermione. He yanked at her arm, forcing her face to be mere inches from his. “Don’t call me lazy!�

Hermione smirked and patted his face with her hand. She pulled away and turned to Harry.

“Thank you Harry, honestly, it was a very kind gesture of yours. It just hasn’t settled in on Draco yet that you are the one who bought the factory for him.�

“He bought it? Potter did?�

Hermione rolled her eyes, and shushed his lips with her finger. “Just say thank you and move on with your life.�

“I knew, since the wedding, that you had a thing for candy, Malfoy, seeing as you ate so many of them. So, I decided, I have a spare factory – why not give it to Malfoy?� Harry carefully explained to Draco, trying to make it seem more of a friendly gesture than anything else.

“I don’t need charity.� Draco said gruffly.

“No, but you do need to lighten up,� Hermione eyed him dangerously, nonverbally telling him to give his thanks. Draco sighed.

“Thanks Potter, really. It was very nice of you.� He grit out the words with a small smirk, shaking Harry’s hand. Harry simply nodded.

“One problem, though,� Draco said, suddenly very serious.

“And what’s that?� Both Hermione and Harry asked.

“It’s not my birthday.� He smirked.

Hermione smacked him across the side of the head, apologized to Harry for her husband’s immaturity, and told him goodbye. She ushered Draco out the door, and thanked Harry one last time before they both Apparated back to their apartment.

Draco and Hermione walked back into their bedroom, changed their clothing, and sat in bed cuddled for a blissful moment before Draco asked the inevitable question.

“What am I supposed to do with a factory?�

Hermione slapped him across the side of his head again, to which he gasped out an “Oww!� of injustice.

“Look at it this way,� Hermione whispered to him, slowly drifting off into sleep, “you’d better not have any excuses for not getting me chocolate on our anniversaries.�

Draco chuckled, and pulled his wife closer.She didn’t have to put me through all that just to tell me I’ve got a new factory, he thought, but kissed her head, thinking, I love her anyway.

FIN