Author's Notes: A smutty, plotless sequel to tamlane's story, "Twenty Minutes, Tops", found at LiveJournal. (tamlane dot livejournal dot com)

Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This work of fiction was created entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Ministry lifts are so quiet, you never really know if they are working or not.

Conventional Muggle elevators hum, clank, and whine when they are working properly. They are quiet only when stuck or broken.

Conversely, magical elevators are silent in and of themselves, making no noise as they move from place to place. Any sounds that accompany them are made by the occupants. Upon encountering Draco in the lift, Hermione had forgotten that little fact. When he'd said the lift was stuck, she'd been rather distracted, and so she'd believed him.

Now, her lust-addled brain was slow to react. "What did you say?" Hermione groaned.

"This elevator… isn't… really… stuck," Malfoy grunted, thrusting particularly hard on the word stuck. He roll-pinched her nipple and her clitoris simultaneously, and with a shout, she closed her eyes and began to climax, just as the disembodied Voice of the Lift announced their arrival at Level Four.

Hermione shivered and shook as she came, her breasts bouncing as Draco continued to thrust into her. The lift doors chimed and slid open to reveal Head Auror Potter and Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt outside, waiting patiently for the lift.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow and made a small, inquisitive noise. Harry gaped speechlessly at the sight of his half-naked best friend playing a vigorous game of "Hide the Broomstick" with his best Auror.

"Going down?" The rumbling voice of the Minister for Magic reached his ears.

"Not yet, sir," Malfoy panted, his pace never faltering. "But she usually does after, as a thank you."

~FIN~