A/N: Hello children! So, this is just darn right silly, but I've always wanted to write a romantic story based on pickles. It's a very intriguing challenge, don't you think? Don't ask how I got the idea…I don't know myself. Maybe I've been harboring special feelings for pickles for some time…*winks at the Pickle Poster behind the computer* Ahem! Well, hopefully you'll find this cute!

Much love to you all,

Jess xx

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but I DO own a jar of pickles. *makes a face at anyone who DOESN'T own a jar of pickles* Nah-nah!

The Romantic Side to a Pickle

War had just been declared.

I glared down at my enemy, my eyes holding nothing but hate. My lips twisted up into a grimace, as my adversary seemed to beg for mercy. I didn't have the luxury of handing out second chances. A rumbling feeling was making itself known in my gut. It was now or never.

I took a deep breath as my hands tightened around the demon's neck.

"You will obey me!" I cried, my voice harsh from strain.

"Good God, Granger! What the Hell are you doing?"

"Stay out of this, Malfoy!" I shrieked. "This is for its own good!"

"Granger, that is no way to open a jar of pickles!"

I groaned as defeat washed over me. He was right; this wasn't working. Sullenly, I brought my leg down from the kitchen counter, straightened my back and slammed the evil jar back onto the table.

"I've been working on this stupid jar for twenty minutes now! I swear the thing is possessed!" I huffed, plopping down into a chair.

Malfoy smirked at me as he leaned against the kitchen's doorframe. Thank goodness the House Elves were in the next room or I would've thrown my jar at his pompous face.

"Why don't you just give up, you idiot?" He drawled.

"Because Gryffindors don't quit." I snapped, sticking my chin into the air so as to impress him with my authority. "That…and the fact that I'm starving."

"Well then eat something else." Malfoy said. His tone was clearly implying that I had mental issues. My blood boiled. I did not feel like dealing with Malfoy tonight…not when I was being thwarted by a jar of pickles.

"I don't feel like it, ok? I have a pickle craving. Now, leave me alone." I sighed, taking the jar back into my hands, intent on analyzing it in search for weaknesses.

Malfoy scoffed. "Sorry Granger, but the kitchen is open to all students who know how to access it. If you can't put up with my gracious presence, that isn't my problem."

I glared my mightiest glare at him, rethinking the idea of throwing the pickle jar at his head. Maybe the House Elves wouldn't care if he lost consciousness…I would only be performing a service to mankind.

"Whatever." I said, forcing my attention back onto my enemy...my other enemy that is. "Do whatever you like. Just stay away from my pickles and I."

"You're asking me to stay away from you? Granger you've got to be kidding! Is this supposed to require some effort on my behalf?"

"Malfoy, have you ever wondered what sensation one might experience when getting a pickle shoved up one's nose?"

He snorted. "Fine. If you're going to get violent about it, then I'll just make my sandwich and go back to bed."

I paid him no attention as he opened the fridge and started rummaging around for sandwich material. I had a crisis to attend to. I sighed as I stared at the big glass jar, filled with dozens of scrumptious dill pickles. They were mocking me, those pickles were; I could just feel it. They knew how delicious they looked and they were trying to push me over the edge by ordering their glass prison to quarantine them.

I gritted my teeth as I tried to twist the cap off for the hundredth time. Once more, I failed in my attempt to deliver my little green buddies. Hands sore and shaking, I dumped the jar back onto the table. I blew a stray curl out of my face. I felt like throwing a fit.

"Why don't you just use magic, Granger?"

I looked around to see that Malfoy had been watching my latest attempt, while munching on his sandwich. He was sitting on the counter with a mocking smile playing on his lips. I wanted to slap the smile off of his face.

"Because, that would mean that I am giving up!" I cried, my frustration getting the better of me. "Just because you can't accomplish everyday tasks without the aid of your precious wand doesn't mean that the rest of us can't!"

"I can to accomplish everyday tasks without magic!" He protested.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah right. Malfoy, the other day I saw you use magic to brush your teeth. How lazy can you get? You actually levitated your toothbrush to your mouth!"

"It isn't laziness, it's skill." He snapped.

I laughed sarcastically. "No. Skill is being able to live without the help of magic. Skill is being able to brush your teeth by yourself and skill is being able to open a freaking JAR OF PICKLES!" I shouted.

Malfoy looked at me with wide eyes. "Well then…according to your definition, we're both pretty untalented."

I took a deep breath and half grinned. "I guess."

There was a moment's silence as I continued to glare at my jar of pickles, and Malfoy finished his sandwich.

"I'm gonna go ding dong kooky if I don't vanquish this thing." I mumbled, laying my head against the table. I heard Malfoy snort. "Oh, shut up."

"Want me to give it a try Granger?"

I raised my head and gave him a skeptical look. "Why would you want to help me?"

Malfoy smirked. "I don't. I just want to prove to you that I can do stuff without magic…stuff that you can't do. See, once again I'm the superior one."

My mouth fell open. "How cocky can you get?" I wondered aloud. He simply shrugged and hopped down from the counter. I shook my head and replaced my look of outrage with one of indifference.

"You aren't the superior one yet. Give it a shot if you like, but you'll never get this thing open on your own."

Malfoy gave me a look. "And if I do?"

I tilted my head. "What? Are you expecting some kind of prize your highness?"

He grinned. "As a matter of fact, I am. But don't worry…I'll think of something."

I was going to protest, but in that moment he grabbed the jar and began trying to twist the cap off.

I watched him struggle for exactly two minutes. Little beads of sweat were actually beginning to pop up on his forehead. I smiled for the first time that night.

"Now, this is fun!" I exclaimed, loving the fact that Malfoy's face was turning red.

He let go of the jar and rubbed his hands, a look of utter frustration adorning his pointed face.

"Give up?" I asked sweetly.

He shook his head. "Give me a towel or something."

"I already tried that," I sang. "I also ran it under hot water, I banged it against the counter, I tapped the rim with a knife and I tried to get it open with an elastic. Nothing works. Face it Malfoy, you're just as pathetic as I am."

Malfoy's teeth clenched. "I will not be brought down to your level! Believe me, I'm going to open this jar!"

I snorted, just to irritate him. "There's no way in heck that you're going to open it."

Malfoy just shook his head fiercely as he grabbed the jar and started twisting again.

"You men and your testosterone fueled pride," I sighed. "You're twisting it wrong," I added. "You're going to get hurt."

Carefully, I laid my hands on top of his and helped him twist the cap in a safer way, so that he didn't hurt any muscles in his arms…which, I noticed as Malfoy's body lurched from the strain, making me lose my balance and lean into him, were actually quite big.

"Granger, you're not helping," Malfoy grunted.

"Yes I am," I panted.

"You're crushing my arm…here."

I squealed as he let go of the jar, put his hands on my hips and directed me to stand in front of him. His hands then encircled me as he reached for the jar again.

"Come on, give me a hand," he prompted.

I took a deep breath, not used to the feeling of having Malfoy's arms around me, and laid my hands on top of his once more. This time, a spark seemed to ignite where our skin touched. I took a deep breath.

"This is bizarre," I commented, as we started applying pressure on the cap again.

"If it gets this damn jar open, it'll be worth having touched you." He answered.

I was going to say something insulting, when all of a sudden, the cap twisted off. Thrown off by the abrupt movement, I lost my stability and fell against Malfoy. He must've been caught off guard too, for he promptly fell to the floor, taking me down with him. The result: a great big jumble of limbs.

"Ow…my head."

Gently, I rolled myself around so that I was still lying on top of Malfoy, but face to face with him. His eyes were closed and his lips were pressed together in pain.

"Are you all right?" I asked, surprised by the concern lacing my tone.

"I think I busted my skull."

"Hang on," I said softly, as I propped myself up with one hand. I then took Malfoy's head in my free hand, and started feeling around for anything serious.

"Well, there's no blood," I mumbled to myself, "but you're probably going to get a nasty bump…what?" I had just noticed that Malfoy's eyes were open again and that he was staring at me with the weirdest look on his face.

"I got the jar open, Granger. I'm reclaiming my prize."

I frowned. "First of all, we got it open, and second of all, I never said that you would be receiving a- "

I never got to finish my sentence. Malfoy's lips interrupted me. I gasped in surprise, but found that I couldn't bring myself to pull away. His lips were just so soft…it made me feel dizzy. I forgot how to think, as his lips began to move against mine. I forgot how much of an idiot this guy was, I forgot that I was supposed to hate him…I even think that I forgot my own name. Unless my name was, "Mmmm."

When he broke the kiss, grabbed my hands and lifted us both back up, a hundred thoughts suddenly whooshed back inside my head…making me quite incoherent.

"Why…why did you…how did you…what…huh?" I stuttered.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while," He shrugged, a smile playing on his lips again. I realized that I didn't feel like slapping it away this time.

"Anyway," He continued, "Now that that's done with, wanna go with me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

"But…" I practically choked, "You hate me! I hate you! I'm…confused."

Malfoy's smile widened. "Yes, we are in quite of a pickle, aren't we?"

I laughed incredulously, my eyes still wide and mystified.

"Come on, let's go take a walk outside." He said, taking my hand and intertwining our fingers. "I promise that it'll make more sense if we kiss some more."

Not knowing what else do to, I slowly followed him to the kitchen's door, my eyes locked on our hands. "That sounds…like a good idea." I heard myself whisper, and smiled when I realized that I really did like the prospect of getting to know that mouth better.

Minty the House Elf watched as the couple stumbled out of the kitchen's portrait hole. He turned to Gummy, his fellow Elf friend. "Do you think that we did a good job?" He asked.

Gummy nodded, his long ears flapping merrily. "Miss Granger never suspected that I had slipped a Pickle Craving potion into her tea this morning…nor that we were the ones who were keeping the jar sealed tight with magic."

"And do you think that we did everything that Mister Malfoy asked us to do?"

"Yes, I think that we carried his plan out perfectly! He certainly seemed happy enough!"

Minty giggled as she walked over to the now open jar.

"Well, I'm glad that everything worked out for them. He's been obsessed with that girl for the longest time and didn't know what to do about it. When I think about the number of nights that he spent in here, eating his emotions!"

"I know," Gummy agreed.

"We did our job well." Minty sighed happily as she dove her long fingers into the jar. "Pickle?" she offered.

A/N: So…was that cute in any way? :) If I've managed to charm you, please drop me a little review…or a big one, it's really your call. :) I promise to name a pickle after you…and then I'll EAT IT! Mwahahahaha! *cough cough*

Note to self: Do not scare away potential reviewers with evil laugh.

Anyway! Thanks for reading my dumplings!

xx