Archer knew he was being bad, but really, it was his birthday, and he was allowed to be bad.  He was allowed to chase Tamis into the magic lift, alone, and possibly maybe sticking his hands where they didn’t belong.  There were brief moments where he could get her to be naughty long enough to place a few kisses on the pale column of her neck. Thankfully they were riding alone, because anyone who caught them, particularly because though he was not there all week – on the weekends, well, the flat had surely gotten much louder... it would not be a very pleasant neighborly welcome. 

The devil inside of him grinned wolfishly as he thought about anyone who might need to go up even just one flight. Unfortunately, no one chanced upon them – he would have loved to see Tamis’ reaction.  But, he’d have to keep the thought in his mind for next time.  For now, he was standing here, in pants and a button-down with Tamis in front of him in that dress, trying to avoid being too scandalous.   Woman needed to loosen up just a little more. 

Granted, she had showed him quite a few times that she was not all serious.  This Sunday excursion for his birthday the next day was a sign of that in and of itself.  She had tricked him for the second time in the recent past, but that was okay.  This was a good surprise, and working off all that energy trying to shoot her as many times as possible was now resolving itself into another type of energy. 

As they neared the seventh floor, Archer finally got her by the legs and pulled her over his shoulder with a booming laugh, trying to hold her still and steady.  “Got ya,” he chuckled deeply, perhaps edging his hands a little too close to where a respectable Tamis in a less compromising position wouldn’t let him, but it was his birthday, and it was what he wanted.

He felt two very small fists hit the expanse of his back as the doors opened and Archer grinned. “Sorry, m’birthday,” he reasoned out loud with as much confidence as he had- which was a lot – and sauntered out of the lift and toward his door. 

Because he wanted to make this as horrible as possible for her, (while still benefitting him), Archer walked to 702 with a swagger that did not allow him to move very quickly at all.  When they reached the door, he fiddled with his wand to unlock the door – tapping it to the doorknob and hearing the several clicks, Archer turned the knob and kicked it open, letting Tamis slide down just enough so he could get her face to face with him – some paint still on her face.

“You’re a bloody mess,” he commented, kicking the door shut before going in for the type of kiss she had been adamant to deny him while riding up the lift. 

The two floors that differentiated the distance between an elevator ride to her flat in Muggle London and Archer Radley’s abode seemed to have been magically expelled from space and time, if Tamis did not know any better she would have accused the man attempting to kiss a path down her neck of doing just that. It felt like they were never going to reach the seventh floor. The way she was simultaneously shushing him while biting back a small, rather pitchy laugh (as Tamis Raynor certainly did not giggle) was Mixed Signals enough to confuse even herself on how she felt about that.

It was as if she was seventeen all over again. Except this was not an abandoned corridor leading to the North Tower and it was the fear of discovery from disgruntled tenants rather than livid professors that threatened to bloom her cheeks. The paint splattering them, however, was transposable to both scenarios.  She was pleased her deception for the evening had gone over so well – perhaps a little too well, she amended as she finally had to slap one of his hands away from somewhere potentially incriminating.

She slipped out of the ridiculous heels she was wearing, to make his plight a little harder as the lift reached the sixth floor. One more to go. The formal wear, splattered in paint had been as unsuspecting to the events of that evening as Archer had been. The owner of the pizza parlor and the paintball place Akiva had helped her find had both shared the sentiment.

Removing the heels had been a bad idea. He compromised.

The cat and mouse dance around the lift abruptly ended and before she could say “manhandling” she found herself reenacting the perfect epiphany of the very word.  “You are a dead man at midnight,” she growled back at him as resistance remained futile. The lift doors opened and Tarzan carried his prize back to the entrance of his cave.

Merlin. If the residents in Seven Hundred and Two or Seven Hundred and Three came out of their flats – Archer the Mind Reader purposely sauntered slowly to the door, and she swayed back and forth in the motion. Defeated, she went slack in his grip and fitted a hand over her very red face. Oh Merlin.

The door closed at long last, giving the illusion of privacy. He lowered her to his level, her legs still dangling well above ground level. She was a mess? “You need a bloody mirror,” she smirked into the kiss as his lips claimed hers, running her hands through his paint infested hair. After a moment one of her eyebrows twitched. Then twitched again. The room was quiet. Should have been quiet -- they were the only ones there. But it was too quiet. Like a crowd on baited breath.

The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

Until the lights suddenly flashed on.

"SURPRISE!!!"

The entire room erupted in a raucous cry.  In an instant, sparkling confetti rained down from overhead.  Blinding dinosaur-shaped fireworks burst into existence around the entangled couple, as dozens of people leapt out from their hiding spots and began to cheer.

The confines of Archer Radley's flat, which had mostly recovered from their igloo days, had been transformed into a stone-age wonderland.  Enormous fern-like trees were scattered through the room.  All of Archer's furniture looked to have been transfigured into giant boulders, complete with magical moss that shouted out magical versions of 40th Birthday Jokes whenever anyone took a seat.  Enchanted prehistoric murals decorated the walls; a distant Tyrannosaurus battled it out with a Triceratops near the kitchen, and a life-size pair of Apatosaurus feet stomped through a swamp as a beady eye peered down from the ceiling.

House elves, clad in tiger-print tea cozies, dangled from the ceiling.  The tiny musicians twisted and twirled as they hovered in the air, clutching at their tiny elf-sized instruments.  As the lights flashed on, they proudly burst into a rousing rendition of what was sure to be the anthem of the evening, even as an enchanted banner unfurled itself across the ceiling, hovering magically in the air.

 

HAPPY 40TH BIRTHDAY ARCHER: OVER THE HILL BUT NOT DEAD YET!

The door was pushed closed, lock clicking into place.

3...
2...
1...
“SURPRISE!”

The crowd of excited guests appeared from their hiding places, ambushing the couple at the door with loud and very excited cheers. Ed and Jonas were at the forefront of this. Along with Dean Bailey, the beautifully leopard fur clad scapegoat, the only person that had quite fabulously taken ‘We'll get down and party like it's the Stone Age’ very seriously. Pratt and Trevelyan couldn’t have planned it any better themselves!

Another beautiful surprise they couldn’t have planned to be any more brilliant was the compromising position their victims were in. Well, of course it could have been more compromising but no one wanted to see that. The men had set up a party not a viewing room. Not that anything else was going to happen now. Well, except no doubt sending their lamb to the slaughter.

Dean Bailey
May he rest in peace.

It appeared the ginger scapegoat was definitely going to require a short eulogy by the look on the faces of their fabulous victims!

Accompanied by a chorus of houseeves singing loudly about turning forty, Ed dared to venture closer to Archer and Tamis, his arm around Bailey’s...bare shoulder (yes, he had to suppress a shudder) and stood beside his no doubt very surprised mate.

“Happy Birthday, old man. Got this great chap ‘ere to thank for all this, ye know!” And with that Ed proudly slapped Bailey on the chest.

Kissing was a good thing.  The feeling of hands through hair, lips against lips, a little wet, possibly hard enough to bruise – that was good kissing.  But it was only a good thing when it wasn’t interrupted. 

Archer didn’t intend to squeeze her so tight, but the sudden eruption of noise, the light coming up, everything happening all at once.  What was this nonsense?  Everything had felt the same for five seconds, and then, out of nowhere, there was this explosion, this crazed moment where there was light and sound and everything….

It was as though his entire life had been thrust into upheaval and for that brief second he thought it might be the entire structure of the WBA barging into his flat to kill both of them. 

Naturally, as soon as the threat was assessed and Archer didn’t feel like they were going to be AK’d in his living room, he felt like he might AK everyone else.  He saw familiar faces – he saw many unfamiliar faces and there were dinosaurs in his living room?!  What in the bloody hell was going on and he hadn’t even put Tamis down yet – this was a bloody disaster, a great, big, bloody disaster. 

Dropping her down fairly quickly, Archer didn’t know what to do with his hands, nor what to do with his mouth or anything – he was fairly certain a good reaction would have happened from anyone else – but then there it was.  4-0.  A big 40.

“What the hell?!” he yelled – probably not what anybody expected, though the cheering and singing and cave people nonsense did not end.  No, it was just beginning. 

Bailey approached, with Eddie hanging on him and Archer knew something was up.  Eddie would never touch him.  Bailey also looked horrified, which usually happened when something he didn’t understand was going on, which was all the time. 

Still not letting go of Tamis, he glared down at Eddie.  “What is this?”

He'd tried to make it on time -- but the hitwizard who would be attending babysitting Hogwarts tonight had shown up on time. Which had meant that Adon hadn't been able to skip out early. And so, it was only possible for a fashionably late entrance. But perhaps no.

The door was closed, and it still was quiet -- quieter than it should have been for a party, so Adon supposed it was still in the awkward "what do we do with ourselves" phase. Or Archer and Tamis had not arrived.

Either way, this couldn't really hurt.

With a strong kick geared towards the outer corner of the door, Adon kicked it in. Stepping over the threshold, he gave a broad gesture and bellowed: "SURPRISE!!!"

Not late, Adon decided as he saw Pratt shoving a stunned Dean Bailey in the direction of the Happy Couple. Right on time.

"Sorry, brother," Adon said, easily sauntering up to stand beside Bailey. "I know you said to come in a giant cake and skivvies, but it was a bit hard to manage on such short notice. And a bit too drafty." He grinned at Archer, Tamis. Pratt.

Adon took in the room as best he could -- from the group of house elves (and trying to keep back a shudder -- those things still were creepy as hell) to the roaming dinosaurs to the smug, shit-eating grin on Pratt's face, to the "will ingest you for breakfast" look on Archer's.  Well, that explained a lot, really. His brows furrowed for a moment as he skimmed the group for his partner in crime(fighting. usually), only to see him leaning against a wall, red-faced and short of breath, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"My God. What have you done to him?" he threw out to the crowd before locking eyes with Jonas. From the looks of it, they were only minutes into the party. They hadn't even started drinking or the ritualistic Bailey-hazing yet, either. "Treveylan. Leave you unsupervised for a couple of weeks and you go to pieces. . ." He shook his head in feigned disappointment, grinning all the while.

To be frank, Adon had had no part in planning this whole party -- though he wished he had. Which was why he was rather happy to incriminate himself freely in it. He was, after all, the Great Houdini. "Have we pulled out the giant effigy yet?"

Due to the fact that Bailey’s skin no doubt had some diseases or issues, Ed didn’t touch him for any longer than necessary. He slapped the man’s chest hard and quickly withdrew his hands, giving them a quick wipe on his dark jeans before shoving his hands into his pockets. The sacrificial scapegoat had been offered to the angry owner of the establishment and hopefully now the party could set into full swing and Archer would get drunk enough to believe without a doubt that Dean Bailey had been the mastermind behind all of this. But who was Ed kidding? Bailey no doubt lived with his mother and relied on her to tie his shoelaces. How would he have been able to create something this truly amazing?

The look on Archer’s face and the darkness in the eyes that were set on Eddie also told the younger (and much more devilishly handsome) auror that his attempts with the scapegoat had pretty much backfired. The making physical contact with the ginger must have been too much. Especially the shocked “I’ve just seen a three headed elephant” look on Bailey’s face must have given him away. Ed grit his teeth, Bailey was probably only ever in such proximity with his mother. Having another human being that hadn’t breast fed him (and possibly still did) was probably a little overwhelming for the idiot.

Ed’s bright eyes shot from Bailey and back to his much older friend. “It’s what most call a party, Archer. A social gatherin’ with drink, food and music to celebrate a special occasion. In this case, your 40th Birthday.” Despite the livid look Archer was sending at Ed, the blonde haired man simply smiled back warmly and as if on cue, the door burst open once more to allow entry to another of their colleagues.

A grin was flashed in Eleor’s direction as he made a comment to Bailey before bright green eyes followed the direction of the other auror’s and Ed rolled his eyes. Trevelyan, hiding away in hysterics. He was such a bloody red headed wimp.

A special birthday party for his dear big brother Archer? One to celebrate the fact that he was half way to the grave? A surprise party that he could attend with Archer's coworkers and embarrass him properly? There was no way that Hunter could pass up the opportunity when it was presented to him, especially when he learned about singing house elves and breaking into Archer's flat again. It was a shame another epic pillow fort wasn't in order. Or yetis screaming every time you opened something. (Not that Hunter hadn't managed to enchant a few more places to roar like a dinosaur for fun.)

It was priceless when everyone yelled surprise. It looked like Archer had brought a date- how fabulous. "'Lo big brother!" Hunter greeted, waving his beer at him. He resisted the urge to head over and put his brother in an affectionate headlock. Archer already looked angry enough- and for once his brother's anger was directed at someone other than himself.

"Don't get your knickers in a knot, Archie," he ventured. "It's just a party to commemorate your half-life! C'mon- you only have another forty left, might as well enjoy your youth while you can! Have a beer and some cake!"

Something was definitely not right.

Hands shifting from where they had ended up behind his neck to press her palms against his chest, the petite woman had begun to pull away. “Arch--” every light in the flat sparked into the being and the “er” got strangled in her throat as the all the air left her lungs in one giant “woosh”.  Archer’s arms clamped around her in every bit as strong of a vice grip as it looked as a roaring SURPRISE erupted from a crowd that sounded as if it was beyond room capacity.

That was certainly a problem. But so was her lack of air supply.  Verbal complaints more effort than it was worth, she slapped a hand twice against his chest. When tapping out did not work the first time, she tried a second – harder. Whether the message had gotten across or he had suddenly come to his senses she would never know, but he eventually let go, dropping her to her feet rougher than she would have preferred. But he did not completely let her ago. The moment she had enough breath and wits, she drew in the elbow closest to him and gave him a sharp reprimand to the gut. That he would notice.

“Do not,” she said in between breaths, “do that again.”

But the room continued to explode without consideration. And dread, swiftly followed by mortification, replaced anger at the cheers of a sea of very familiar faces. There they were, fancy attire and covered in a primary palette of paint, in front of half the Ministry. Humiliation wanted her to take several quick retreating steps away from her no-longer-secret boyfriend. Pride kept her rooted to the spot.

 Then the elves began their serenade. Dinosaurs roared against the walls. And the banner unfurled. Happy fortieth  Birthday. The hand she had fitted to her forehead slid down to cover the amusement forming on her mouth as Archer let out his own roar, much less cheerful than the crowds and more reminiscent of the creatures painted on the wall. Well played. The perpetrators were dead. But well played. It would be traitorous to laugh.

The surprises were not over yet. Edward Pratt as pleased as a Cheshire Cat came strolling over with the… most bizarrely dressed Bailey in tow. BAM. The door was kicked in behind them and in pranced a very much spritely  recovering Adon Eleor cheerfully adding to the chaos. And then Hunter, waving a beer in the air. She found the youngest Radley annoyingly likeable (half-life) and forced herself to concentrate elsewhere. She ignored the praise and comments to Bailey, who was far more mortified than she.  Gray eyes followed Eleor through the crowd and narrowed on the red faced, tearing Jonas Trevelyan in the back.

“I will take the Ginger if you want the Blonde,” she told her partner under her breath with deadpan simplicity. They would probably have to team up for the Israeli if he was as conspiratorial as he seemed.

If nothing else, this was bound to be interesting. 

Jacoba had received the invitation a few days before and the opportunity to see Adon alone had been sufficient motivation.  But, Jacoba was still nervous - the prospects of being in a casual social setting with the coworkers of one's significant other for the first time was reason enough to be nervous.  Add to that that said coworkers were aurors and it was even more so.   Hestia's words of encouragement had been both well-timed and well-appreciated.  Not even a year ago, Jacoba usually found herself at the type of parties law enforcement was usually called to break up.  Now, here she was, slipping into the flat filled with law enforcement types - and magical law enforcement types at that.

She'd had no idea what to wear and it had taken several tries to decide on an outfit.  The combination of wardrobe changes and subsequentially missing her intended train had resulted in her slipping in right after a pair of unfamiliar blokes. 

There were only two known faces in the room aside from Adon.  Jonas was the only other attendee she knew in some capacity other than official Ministry business.  Tamis Raynor was the only other familiar face - their first and only meeting had been, quite unquestioningly, official. 

There would be time for meet and greets soon, she was sure, but making it clear she wasn't simply lost and out of place seemed to be the first step.  She crossed the room towards Adon, eying the scene curiously, setting a hand gently on his arm to announce her presence without interrupting his obviously dramatic presentation too much. 

Among the many gingers invited to the flat one had laid in wait with a camera. Why? He had first posed that question to his wife when he received the strangest invitation. He was skeptical and quite suspicious, and without even bothering to check it at all, she just said "take a camera," and "Imma bring mi black bag[1]," with that stoic and expectant expression of hers the Irishman would hate on any other person, just for how it insinuated he wasn't going to get into something without coming out mortally wounded.

So then he found himself waiting in the dark, with the largest amalgamation of people and Ministry personnel waiting around to surprise someone he had ever encountered. He wanted pictures.

With a flash of a camera, the shortest and most likely eldest of the gingers had popped out of his hiding place, muscling to the front of the throng as best he could with a wide ginger-fuzzy smile. He took a few more few more pictures as events unfolded: Archer Radley was fuming, Raynor was stiff, some ginger (who Torquil was quite sure wasn't responsible for any of it, simply because he didn't know him) was dragged up as the scapegoat, the door banged open with another man, and Torquil wheeled around in front of "Bailey" and took a picture of his sorry expression.

"Oooh, ho, ho," The short burly wizard crooned with a step to the side to look up to Radley, "The forties, just getting started there," his smile still brimming from under his wirey mustache, "Mine went off with my girl trying to kill me!" he said with a hushed chuckle of excitement, and he smiled on with a more disappointed tone, "don't have any pictures to show for it though." He did like retelling the story, whether people took it literally or not.

"If you wanna try t' get a hit on 'im, I don't mind," a voice slithered out from one of the darker-skinned members of the crowd.

He looked back at the crowd with a fallen expression, and then back to Archer with a lopsided twist to his mouth and a shrug, "We got married." However he stayed completely ignorant as to how embarrassing or awkward it all must have been for the couple, and how Jonas was falling to pieces over it all in the back.

1.	Reference to the phrase "the doctor with a little black bag."

Judging from the expression on the guest of honor's face, this party was not only a surprise, but a highly unwelcome one. For which Aleron could not exactly blame the man. One minute he was kissing his girlfriend...the next, it seemed as if the whole wizarding world was witness to it, to the accompaniment of leopard-clad  house elves singing disco in squeaky voices...

And as if that wasn't bad enough...just consider who Archer was kissing! The entire lot of party-goers would be lucky to escape unhexed...

And yet...why? Aleron had been in equally embarassing situations several times in his life...indeed,  since arriving in England. For instance arriving at the Ministry in quacking duckie-shorts, minus his trousers. Getting knocked off a horse and falling on his bum. And most recent and embarrassing of all...trying to banish a demon that wasn't there, in the process summoning up a whirlwind that tore through Diagon Alley, creating havoc wherever it went.

Compared to all that, was the big deal about being caught stealing a kiss? Ah...but these were Aurors.  Aurors  are Larger Than Life; they never do mundane things like going to parties, or kissing. So...why did so many of the pranksters at this party seem to be Aurors?

"Have we pulled out the giant effigy yet?" asked Adon.

It was not yet too late. Aleron could have escaped without drawing attention to himself; Raynor and Archer scarcely knew the mild-mannered Runes consultant from Adam. But...he could not resist.

"Ach," he said, looking shocked as he turned to Adon. "Do you mean...the blow-up one? With the big...?"

There were bright flashes.  Exceptionally bright flashes.  He did not like that, particularly when he realized that the man snapping photos was a man snapping photos! “What the bloody hell?!”  he was so overwhelmed right now – way too much going on in his flat and there were so many people he did not know.  Wasn’t it pretty obvious most aurors had no friends outside of the office?  He was going to kill everyone – well, maybe.

He wouldn’t kill a woman, even if she was walking up and reaffirming the marriage story that made Archer’s face drain of color, “No – I mean…” he looked around, “I have something else to deal with right now,” his eyes looked around anxiously.  “Destroy those photos. Thanks.”  And he started to move toward Eddie again, tugging her along a little. 

Strangers were in his flat taking pictures.  Not even a little bit okay.   

Eddie thought he was right funny – Archer could see it in the sod’s face, and when Tamis elbowed him in the stomach he did his best not to flinch, though he cast a sideways glance at the woman to inform her that he was not all that amused with her antics.  In fact, he was right pissed at the moment and because it was not her fault, she would not receive the brunt of his anger – but Eddie here, well, he was going to get a face full of fist, if he didn’t vacate in a moment.

Tamis, of course, made it very clear that they were going to handle both of the perpetrators, as far as Archer could tell, they seemed to be the ones enjoying themselves the most, and Trevelyan’s face managed to match the color of his hair from laughing so hard.  “We’ll hide the bodies later,” he smirked as he looked down at his partner, letting go of her finally, though he did not want to.  They had business to attend to, however. 

He turned his face again toward the blonde man touching the ginger man, wondering briefly how he still was, but pushed it from his mind.  “I hope you found a box on the street to sleep in, Pratt.”  That was all that needed, and he sneered at Bailey, who seemed like he was going to retract into his skin like the turtle he was.  God, sometimes he really looked like one. 

Besides, Archer was getting a barrage of unwelcome guests right now – one being his idiot little brother.  Joel was far, far away – thankfully, or they probably would have made this a million times worse, and Archer audibly growled at the youngest Radley.  “Make yourself useful, punk, and get me a beer.” 

He figured if he was going to be there, Archer might as well get something good out of it.  And a beer or seven was sounding pretty good right about now. 

There had been a point when, immediately after entering his longtime friend and former partner's flat earlier in the evening, Jonas had planned to make a quiet night of it.  Arrive early, stay near the back of the group for the surprise, stop by long enough just to slap Archer on the back so nothing would look suspicious, and then slink out into the darkness of the surrounding streets once more.  Years of flying under the radar had taught him that the best place to be when pulling off a practical joke was nowhere near the danger zone.  Let Pratt gloat and take all of the credit; Jonas was perfectly happy to disappear mysteriously into the night.

But that had been before the countdown.  Before he had seen Archer's face.  The older man's expression as he was caught mid-makeout session with his boss-turned-flame was to die for, and Jonas nearly did.  The wall behind him was the only reason that he was still standing upright; he had collapsed against it, tears running down his face as his shoulders shook with helpless laughter.

Some sort of commotion had erupted on the other side of the room.  He didn't know what it was, although Adon's voice rang out like an Israeli bell.  Jonas covered his face with both hands, still in tears, as he attempted to quell the laughing fit and catch his breath.

Next to him, Anna shifted position impatiently.  He could practically feel the bone-chilling look that his ex-wife was probably shooting him.  The red-haired man squeezed his eyes shut and began mentally counting down from ten, which probably would have helped more if the too-recent memory of the surprise countdown hadn't set him cracking up again by the time he reached 'three.'

It was all over.  He was done for.

Anna gave a loud sigh.  "Well, you've certainly fooled them," she remarked quietly, her voice practically dripping with dry sarcasm despite the low volume.  "I can't imagine they'll see anything suspicious in that sort of behavior."

Jonas gulped down a breath.  Despite the hilarity, this wasn't, he knew, how the evening was supposed to go.  He'd invited his ex-wife along so that she could meet his co-workers.  They were actively making an effort to be a part of each other's lives, and introducing her to a fairly safe segment of the magical world -- well, safe aside from the fact that Radley and Raynor were likely going to murder him before the night was over -- had seemed a reasonable risk to take.  Witness the apex of their practical joke, make a circuit around the room for introductions, and then sneak off into the night for a private dinner.

It wasn't too late to salvage the evening.  Biting his tongue hard, he counted to three -- upwards this time -- and then tried to speak again.  "Hell," he managed weakly.  "I.  No.  Not...not sus-- ... suspic-- ..."   

Stringing more than two syllables together at once was beyond his capacities right now.  Shaking his head, he threw his hands helplessly up into the air and half-turned to face the wall, burying his face in his arms against it as he dissolved once more into absolute hilarity.

Archer’s deadening glare did nothing to dampen Ed’s excellent spirits at the particular moment in time. Neither did the box comment. Ed had wrangled lovely accommodation off of Frizzy Malone and he was quite satisfied there for the moment, thankyou. Not he could annoy her in the office AND at home. The auror was loving it and he swore he swore his partner’s hair start to sprout more and more greys. And surely those tiny creases on her forehead hadn’t been there before he’d taken over his living room.
“This box has curtains and a wireless, Radley. Top of the range.” The auror grinned brightly before stepping away from Bailey. He’d been too close to the weird ginger creep for long enough. In fact, Ed was spending far too much time near ginger people for his liking at the moment. Surely there was the possibility he may catch something off of them.

But before Archer did leave his mate’s company, Eddie remembered something very important and thrust his hand into the pocket of his jeans. His fingers clasped a card before he pulled it out and offered it to Archer.
“From the kids.” Ed offered in explanation as he flashed the much older and uglier man a grin before disappearing off into the crowd. He’d spotted Jonas creasing himself in the corner and was certain all cover had been blown. The proximity to Bailey had been too much. Too unbelievable. And Jonas’s present actions were making it damn obvious who the creators of the fantastic party idea were.

On his way to reach Jonas and what looked like his wife, Ed became distracted when he heard a yell from someone near the food and punch table. The auror smirked slightly as she turned his head to see the young trainee Geoffrey Hodges with his lips sealed on...the auror blinked and had to take a sobering breath to prevent the laughter that threatened to escape. Hodges was snogging Archer Radley. Only Archer Radley was still stood near the front door looking ready to commit murder. And Hodges drew back realising attention was on him. He took one more look at the person he’d been kissing before he promptly fainted.

The auror couldn’t help himself and he started to laugh, twisting on his heel and once more making his way through the crowd to Trevelyan. He leant up against the wall just like his colleague and proceeded to laugh some more. “Polyjuice potion in the punch...Ruddy marvellous.”