Shelter From the Storm

In which Hermione Granger through no fault of her own becomes the hostess of the most obnoxious self-absorbed amoral human being since Gilderoy Lockhart, at least so she thinks. Dramione, obviously.

No Amount of Flattery

"Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood, when blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud," Draco Malfoy sang dolefully as he and two of his former arch nemesis took the lift. " I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form 'come in,' she said, 'I'll give you shelter from the storm.'"

"Do you have to be so melodramatic?" Harry winced.

"Yeah Ferret can you stop singing for three more floors, my ears are ringing." The Weasel added, rubbing at one of the abnormally large ears that seemed to be troubling him.

"I'm sorry." Draco amended. The other two young men grunted in accent. They grunted too soon. "That you both have such poor taste in music," he rejoined with an amused sort of smile. "Bob Dylan is the man."

"Malfoy if you don't shut that horrible hole in your face, by the time we reach Hermione's flat you really will be a creature devoid of form." Harry growled. "Better behave yourself as well, it's going to take a hell of a lot to convince her to give you shelter. She just might start up at storm at the suggestion."

"She can do that?" Malfoy asked curiously.

"Who's Bob Dylan?" Ron wondered aloud.

The elevator gave that significant little bing that meant you'd reached your floor and the doors opened. Harry stepped out onto the thirteenth floor with determination and a look that said quite clearly that he was a bit miffed. Ron followed with a look that said his question about Bob Dylan had yet to be answered. Draco came next with the serene look of a man who had just done something incredibly amusing for thirteen floors in a very slow elevator, that is annoying the hell out of Harry and Ron. This look did very much to hide the scant trace of trepidation that threatened to trip him in his steps. Draco smirked. Alliteration at this point was downright insane. He was going mad. But if he were going to go mad at least he would have a roommate who appreciated alliteration, if not him.

He had not seen the grammatically adept Hermione Granger in three years, not since the end of the war, at least not in person. Her face had of course been splattered across the pages of the Prophet quite often, she being a huge mucky-muck with the Ministry and all now. She along with Nod Depor, the new Minister of Magic, elected mostly thanks to Hermione, were bringing about a huge reformation within the Ministry. Hermione, as second in command, was sacking, hiring, and implementing left and right. It seemed that Hermione being a Ministry mucky-muck meant that most of the mucky in the Ministry was being put out. She was just as brilliant and determined as she had been in she and Draco's school days. Probably bossier and nosier too. Draco thought to himself. She'd probably toss him out on his bum sooner than look at him.

Harry knocked and waited. Ron was still wondering who Bob Dylan was and Draco stared incredulously down at the welcome mat. It was hideous. It was a deep color of purple, fluffy, and read quite tritely "Beware of Cat".

"I'm moving in with a cat lady." He tried not to appear as aghast as he felt.

"Witches are supposed to have cats," Ron said simply.

"And she only has one, so she's not quite the cat lady." Harry said and although Ron and Draco knew little of Harry's previous experience with cat ladies they didn't argue.

"Yet," Ron added darkly.

"Shut up Ron," said Harry. "Mione is not going to become a cat lady."

"Argus Filch had a cat," Draco supplied. "Sometimes I dread to think about how attached to Mrs. Norris he was and why."

"Then don't and shut up Malfoy. Just shut up." Harry ordered.

The door swung open and a bright smile crossed Harry's face where a menacing look had been only a second before.

"Mione!" He and Ron said in unison, like mind controlled zombies Draco thought with some odd pleasure. Hermione Granger smiled. Ron elbowed Draco roughly.

"Granger," Draco murmered. He refused to rub the side that had just received a liberal helping of Ron's elbow. Weasley bastard. Hermione's smile flickered, but like any polite politician she held her cool and it didn't fall.

"Come in."

. . . . . . . . . .

"No. No, no, no. No." Hermione hissed sharply over her coffee table at her two best friends, "Just because you two have happy little lives and I live all by myself doesn't mean you can't shunt the Prince of Snakes off on me."

The Prince of Snakes was currently sipping a cup of tea quietly in her kitchen, while the three "chatted" i.e. argued, about where to house his "defective ass" as Harry had so politely put. Draco smiled, defective though it might be, it was still a nice ass. He wiggled it in the chair affectionately and then stopped because the squeaking of the wood on tile didn't allow him to hear the conversation in the other room as well as he'd like.

"But he can't stay with Ron and Luna. There will be a murder within hours and you know it." Harry said.

"I'll off him right now if you want me to." Ron agreed, taking out his wand for emphasis, "Solve all of our problems."

"Put that away Ronald before you hurt yourself," Hermione commanded. Draco smirked as the cracking of a whip sounded in the back of his head.

"And he can't stay with Harry and Ginny, cause Ginny's preggers and I don't want to know what she'll do to Malfoy if he upsets her. Frankly, I'm scared for Harry's life and she's been in love with him since second year." Ron argued.

"It's not that bad," Harry told him. Ron and Hermione looked at him knowingly. "Okay, so she has a bit of a temper. She's six months in cut her some slack."

"Can't he stay with someone else?" Hermione pleaded.

"He's a high priority witness to the state." Harry returned. Draco took a small delight that even Harry Potter had to consider him high priority, even if it was in a penal code sort of way. "He can't just stay anywhere and aren't you the one that implemented the Defective and Witness Protection Policy in the first place? Who better for the job?"

"No one could keep a better eye on him, 'cept maybe Moodey, but even I wouldn't wish that on Malfoy." Ron added. So the Weasel has a heart.

"No amount of flattery is going to change my mind," Hermione said crossing her arms firmly across her chest.

"Come on Mione, if not for the glory, do it for us." Harry said beseechingly.

"I can't go to prison. Think of my children." Ron whined piteously.

"Ron, you don't have any children." Hermione gritted.

"Someday I might," he replied lamely.

"We will be forever in your debt," Harry said. Draco had the faint notion that Harry and Ron were both at Hermione's feet.

"As if you aren't already," Hermione reminded them.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Hermione's house for the defective, amoral, obnoxious, and stupendously heinous refugees was now open for business.

"So what's for dinner?" Draco asked with an infuriatingly pleased look upon his face when the door shut behind Harry and Ron.

They owe me big.

Hermione thought dismally before fixing Draco with a severe look. He only smiled more.

They owe me real big.

………

Well, that's it for chapter one. Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Feedback drives me. I'd love to have your esteemed opinion. Yes, I'm buttering you up. Yours, T. Cupp