A/N: Woo, another HP fic. I hope this one actually gets attention. Review if you think it should be continued.

Warnings: Silliness, curse words, slash, ect.

Enigma

If Draco Malfoy had to make a list of the things that irritated him, having his privacy invaded would be somewhere between Harry Potter and fleas. So, as anyone could more than likely imagine, having the bloody Order of the Phoenix invading his privacy by being in his house was putting him in a foul mood. Not only was his privacy being invaded in the process of them standing at the gates to the Manor, ready to just waltz right in like they belonged there, but Harry bloody Potter just happened to be an Order member—shocker there, huh?—as did Remus Lupin, who Draco suspected of having fleas.

But, lets go back a bit, shall we? Explain why the Order just happens to be standing at the gates of the Manor?

For reasons that will be explained later, much later, the Malfoys had deemed it necessary to switch over to the light. In the end, it had just come down to one thing: Lucius Malfoy finally deciding to protect his family, and go to Dumbledore. It had been hard, switching over, but at least his family—along with his dignity and home, two other important things to him—was safe. The final push that Lucius had needed had been a drastic, dangerous one that had scarred his family worse than anything the man could ever do himself, but as mentioned, that certain event will come up later. For now, lets just focus on other facts; Lucius, as mentioned, got out with two things other than his family—his dignity and his home. For his dignity, it was because he no longer had to grovel to a madman. For his home, he had secured the wards around it before his ex-Lord could set up his base in it like he had wanted.

But now another group were about to set up camp in it, which wasn't really something Lucius wanted—who would want a group of people camped out in their house?—but it was a small price to pay for his family's protection. And, despite most people not realizing it, family was an important thing to a Malfoy, especially Lucius. He wanted his son to grow strong, prosper, and to lead his life, bringing even more pride to the Malfoy name, which wasn't something that he could do successfully with a mad man squatting in his house.

Albus Dumbledore's reasons for taking Lucius in were obvious, even though the man had an air of slyness about him. It meant one less Death Eater—two if Draco was counted, though he never really had wanted to become a Death Eater—to worry about. Even more than that considering the Parkinsons, who had always been greatly influenced by the Malfoys, had become spies for the Order.

Another reason, one that Lucius didn't know about, revolved around the old Order headquarters. Malfoy Manor was in better shape than Grimmauld Palace, more lively, and, especially in Harry's case, didn't hold as many bad memories as the previous headquarters had. The Manor also had a contained basement, once kept for chaining up prisoners, that could be used as a facility to keep Remus in when he changed into his werewolf form. Besides, it also lacked Walburga's portrait; Albus could speak for the whole Order, he thought, when he said that no one would miss that.

So, what did all of that add up to? Draco Malfoy, irate, having to open the Manor gates, a sneer on his face, to let the Order of the bloody Phoenix onto the Malfoy property. His father had forbid him from making a house elf greet the guests, someone having warned Lucius—probably Dumbledore, Draco was guessing—that Granger would throw a fit if she saw an elf anywhere on the property, and Lucius himself wasn't going to do it; Draco knew that his mother was probably sunbathing at the moment and couldn't be bothered to do it either, leaving the job up to Draco. Draco prayed to Merlin that Pansy didn't get any ideas of dressing up as an elf the next time she was over just to cause trouble. The girl would do it, he knew. Then again, she would also take the outfit off as soon as he mentioned the fact that her ears were more pointy than usual, so there wasn't really anything to worry about.

Deciding that worrying about what Pansy might or might not do the next time she was over for a visit wouldn't help him get out of the situation he was currently in, Draco looked the Order members over, taking his time; it was his bloody house, he could make them wait if he wanted—they had been standing at the gate for a little over twenty minutes before Lucius had finally had enough and ordered Draco to go tend to them.

There stood Dumbledore himself in the front of the line, a twinkle in his eye. He didn't look any different from the last time Draco had seen him, the circles under his eyes aside; Draco had assumed that being the leader of the Order of the Phoenix would be tiring, so it came as no surprise to him that the man looked a bit wore out. Then again, he had never studied his headmaster up closely before, so he had no way of knowing if he had always looked so tired.

Behind Dumbledore stood a long line of people, some Draco recognized, some he didn't. Lupin and his cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, caught his eye almost immediately, but he didn't spend much time eyeing them. His gaze moved down the line until it finally stopped on the younger members of the group; Granger, her eyes studying everything, including him; the Weasley children looking as if they had never seen something as grand as his Manor—they weren't even inside it yet—which they probably hadn't; Saint Potter standing at the very end of the line looking as if it would kill him to move past the gates, which he probably thought it would.

"Right," Draco finally drew his gaze back to Albus Dumbledore, nodding as the elderly wizard said a polite hello. "This way."

Draco thought about the Order's youngest members as he walked, absentmindedly leading the group behind him up to the Manor, kicking a peacock out of the way as he walked leisurely along the trail that led up to his home; he could hear Granger begin to protest to the treatment of the bird, but the youngest male Weasley shut her up before she could start.

He didn't want to be friends with Potter and his gang, which, going by the twinkle in Dumbledore's eye, may have been what the old man wanted; take the sour, 'lonely' Draco Malfoy, and make him be friends with Saint Potter and the crew, soften him up a bit. Well, that wasn't going to happen. Draco wasn't the least bit lonely—despite his family switching sides, he still had his closest friends—and even if he was, he would never resort to spending time with Potter. Besides, going by the look that Potter had on his face when Draco was examining him, the boy didn't want to be Draco's friend either.

That sparked a bitterness in Draco, one that had been there for years. He had always been attracted to power, to glory, to attention, to greatness, and Potter turning down his friendship before they had even been sorted had stung. Well, as far as Draco could see, it was Potter's loss. Draco had friends, better friends than Granger or Weasley could ever be, and he didn't need Saint Potter's company to be happy, even if Pansy claimed Draco had a crush on the scarred boy. As if. A few interesting dreams about him didn't mean that Draco had a crush, and even if it did, it wasn't like Draco would ever do anything about it; Potter was far to Gryffindor for him. His stupidity might rub off on him, and Draco Malfoy did not want to be considered stupid. Or obnoxious. Or anything else remotely Gryffindor.

"You can't always get what you want

You can't always get what you want

You can't always get what you want

But if you try sometimes, you might find

You get what you need."

It was cold outside, the wind blowing and messing up Draco's hair, and he wanted to hurry and get the tour over with so he could go back in, but he stopped walking to dig out the cell phone from his pocket that was currently going off, knowing full well who it was that was calling him—Blaise Zabini.

Like Pansy, Draco had been friends with Blaise for years. Unlike Potter and his gang, Draco had grown up with his; because both Pansy and Blaise were pure-bloods, their families had known each other for years, Draco knowing the two for as long as he could remember. They had shared a crib together, learned their first spells together, ect. Really, Draco meant it when he thought that Potter's friendships would never run as deep as Draco's did.

There also happens to be another member of Draco's gang, Thedore Nott, that the other three children grew up with. Theo, as his friends called him, happens to be an important part of Draco's life, and will be brought up later. For now though, back to the story at hand.

And as for the fact that Draco Malfoy, pure-blooded, muggle-hating Draco Malfoy owns a cell phone? It was simple, really. Draco traveled a lot. He had been all over the world, as most aristocratic wizards his age had, and he had learned on his travels that muggle-made items could be useful at times. Luckily for him, his friends agreed, and Lucius let him get away with having a muggle device in their home.

Draco's ring tone had been loud, loud enough for the kids in the back of the line to hear. He knew that Mr. Weasley was eyeing his phone, a million questions about it going through his head. He knew that Potter and Granger were explaining what it was to him, along with his children. He could hear the youngest Weasley comment that the song just repeated the main lyrics, just like he could hear Granger chastise him, saying that it was a classic; he could also hear her asking both Potter and Lupin, both having been around muggles more than the Weasleys, to agree with her, which they both did. Draco wasn't paying much attention to them though, more interested in the conversation he was about to have with Blaise.

He had made sure not to say the name of the person he was talking to; let the Order, the nosey intruders, guess. Really, when had a little bit of mystery ever hurt anyone, anyway? Draco always had been one for drama.

"I swear to Merlin, if you ever use my credit card again—"

Ah, credit cards; another useful muggle invention. Blaise had stolen his, thinking it would be funny to charge a whole Lamborghini—another muggle invention that Draco was found of—to it. Really, the things that boy thought was funny. Then again, it probably would have been funny if it hadn't been his credit card that Blaise had used. Besides, after his parents had finished reprimanding him, he had actually gotten to keep the car, though he had to keep it at a flat he sometimes stayed at during the summer in France.

He could hear Granger and Potter trying to explain what a credit card was, but again he ignored them. He doubted that Arthur Weasley could understand what they were talking about anyway. The man had to be daft if he had seven kids, and that was coming from someone in a family that cared about exactly that—family. That is, close family; he didn't care much for his cousins, Nymphadora Tonks being one of them.

"Yeah, yeah." Blaise cut him off before he could finish his sentence. Having known Blaise for years, he knew that the boy was probably rolling his eyes at him, just like he was probably making hand gestures as he said 'yeah'. Really, some people grew predictable over the years. Fortunately for him, Blaise wasn't one of them, and the boy could still shock Draco—even if his mannerisms couldn't. "You thought it was funny, I know you did. Besides, you never thanked me for the car."

Draco rolled his eyes, a habit he had either picked up from his father or Blaise. Or maybe Blaise had picked it up from him. He wasn't sure anymore, not that it mattered. He was a Slytherin; by law he was aloud to get an attitude with whoever he pleased, even if that meant one of his best friends.

"Thank you so much for the bloody car." His tone was slightly sarcastic, but he knew Blaise would ignore it. "It was one of the best gifts you've ever given me, right up there next to that book on how to have the perfect orgy." The sarcasm had almost disappeared by now—Draco really did enjoy that particular gift. "I'll make sure to put both of them to good use."

Draco Malfoy having a cell phone, credit card, car, and thanking someone? Potter and his crew were probably dying of shock, but Draco couldn't make himself care at the moment.

He could hear Blaise laugh on the other end of the line, a sound Draco didn't mind hearing. It wasn't as rare as Theodore's laugh, but it was a pleasant sound to one's ears, unlike the laugh belonging to the female portion of their group.

"I'm sure you will. Knowing you, you'll probably try to have an orgy in the car."

Draco rolled his eyes again. Really, what kind of whore did Blaise think he was? That did sound a bit fun though...The wind was picking up more though, his hair which was hanging lose around his shoulders, not slicked back like he wore it at school, flying in different directions. He would have to contemplate having an orgy in his car later during his free time.

"Listen, as fun as this conversation has been," His tone had went back to being slightly sarcastic, but Blaise knew that he didn't mind talking to him. "I really do need to go. I'll talk to you later."

Draco hung up his phone, stuffing it back into his trouser pocket, before Blaise could reply back to him. He knew that his friend would try to drag the conversation on, and he wished to be out of the Order's company as soon as he could.

Really though, why did the Manor have to be so large? The tour would be going on for a while.