Tainted Love

Overtime

IRIS

Iris leaned back lightly against the walls of the lift, staring at her reflection in the mirrored doors. She was thankful for the reflective doors, glad to confirm nothing about her appearance was completely off base before she stepped out of the lift and onto the ninth floor.

She tucked her hair behind her ears absentmindedly, but, after a couple of seconds of staring at her reflection, she decided it had looked better before. Then she felt a little bit stupid for caring.

The doors came to a halt, the mirrors receding and the bars behind them rising into the ceiling.

"Level Nine," a woman's voice said, "Department of Mysteries."

Iris stepped out of the elevator and into the gleaming black lobby. She wasn't yet used to the dark glamour of her new workplace - the black marble floors that changed effortlessly into walls, the click of heels on the shining tiles, the gold lining. It was Friday morning, only her sixth day of work.

She scanned the lobby absentmindedly, looking to see if Tracey, Sebastian, or Theodore were anywhere to be found, but she didn't recognize any of the witches and wizards bustling about. It didn't seem like many people were in the mood to chat this morning, though she did hear a couple of people casting alertness charms on themselves.

Iris walked over to the door of the Love Chamber, admiring the way her own heels sounded on the floor. She raised her wand to the lock to identify herself, and heard the telltale click as the door opened for her.

She smoothed her hands over her robes as the doors closed behind her, leaving her in the entrance hall. She wished there was a mirror in here, too. But as soon as that thought crossed her mind, she banished it.

She shouldn't care what she looked like, not if the only person who was going to see her all day was Draco Malfoy.

It was bad enough working with someone whose main personality trait seemed to be making the people around him feel inferior. What was worse, though, is that she often found her eyes falling on his face or his hands, watching his sharp jaw, high cheekbones, the shape of his nose, the way his hair fell in his face as he worked and the way his hands wrapped around vials.

It wasn't that she had a crush on him - even using that word in her head seemed juvenile. To like someone, she thought, you have to like them, and she didn't like Malfoy at all. His personality repulsed her.

Unfortunately, though, his face did not. And even though Iris had used the Naris Opillo charm every morning to block her nose from the Amortentia, she had a theory that there was something about the Love Chamber that was heightening her unnerving attraction to him.

It was easier when she didn't talk to him, but, despite all his protestations about having to work with someone else, he seemed to have a penchant for starting arguments.

And Iris had never been one to back down from an argument.

But Draco wasn't either. He brought a patronizing air to their conversations, as if everything they were talking about was so beneath him that he didn't care what the outcome was. It was the opposite of Iris's fiery stubbornness and unwillingness to back down, and he used it to his advantage, making Iris seem as though she cared too much.

But even that wasn't as bad as what had happened Tuesday right before they left work.

Draco had been pulling on a long black coat over his robes, an interesting green lining that complemented his rings. His hand had gone to his hair, pulling his fingers through it absentmindedly as Iris had noticed he was apt to do.