Hello again! Thanx to my ONE reviewer. . . You Rock!!!!! This time, I really really really want at least 5. So, whats going to happen next?

Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She was in a huge, Minister sized (king sized, as us muggles say) water-bed, snuggeled cozily under the breezy green sheets. Giving a soft moan, she streched her bare, freckled arms, yawned, and rolled out of bed. She smiled down at her nightgown: Spaghetti-strapped, green, short, and lose, with silver sparkles and tiny emeralds embroidered around the bottom, top, and sides. She looked around at her room: Painted silver walls with portraits here and there, most still asleep with their heads resting on their shoulders. To the left of her bed was her personal bathroom, complete with a huge bathtub and built-in jets, two sinks, a toilet, white carpeting, and three or four mirrors. Exactly across from the bathroom was her walk-in closet, empty but big. The small kitchen that was just at the corner of her room had a tiled floor, a silver fridge, cabinets, and counters. If you traveled through there, you'd reach the revolving doors which lead to the balcony. On the other side of the room was her little lounge, consisting of bookshelves, two squishy chairs with foot-rests, and a lamp and table.

Hermione was only to sleep in with her husband occasionally, and last night was their first together. She smiled as she remebered the day before, their wedding. It had been a quiet affair, with only a few of her husband's friends as audience. She didn't have much friends, but she was determined to make some in her new life. Quietus stalked in, his sleek fur soaking with annoyance. She leaped up onto Hermione's bed and lay down with an air of dignity and independence as only cats can. Rolling her eyes, Hermione slipped on her slippers and headed downstairs for breakfast. She strolled down the grand staircase into the Entrance room and turned right, the brass doors open at her arrival. Her husband sat on the end of the long breakfast table, stuffing himself with eggs and toast. He looked up at her, and his face brightened.

"Hey, sweet lips," he greeted, smirking. "Care to have breakfast with me?"

"Why of corse, Draco darling." she smirked in return. She sat herslef down on the seat to his right, taking the fork from his hand and spooning eggs into his mouth. "Oooh! I really must go shopping today. I haven't an outfit to wear besides the one I came in, and you know how absolutely appalling that is. Also, I must get myself a house elf, a personal one that always has time to do what I want it to do. Do you mind?" she added hastily as a kitchen elf scurried in with her breakfast.

"Actually, I have a meeting to go to discussing matters to do with the company I'm working on starting, so have your fun, sweetie." His sly grin cought her off guard, and for a second her breath caught in her chest. Blushing furiously, she spooned her eggs into her mouth at a rapid pace. She felt his hand brush agianst her shoulder, a toutch that should have tingled on her bare skin, but for some reason didn't.

"Well, I'll just go, then." Hermione rose, gave her husband a peck on the cheek, then sauntered out of the room, calling to the kitchen elf to clean her plate. She went back up to her room, showered, dried her hair, and used two straitening charms to get her bushy mane extra strait. She then slipped into her outfit and left, returning to the new Malfoy manor just before supper, laden with V-necks, miniskirts, boots, cloaks, jeans, and half-jackets. She also came with a young female house elf. As soon as she had flooed back, and older-looking house elf informed her that they were having company for dinner. "Thank-goodness I went shopping!" she exclaimed, then scurried right up to her room.

"Lena." Upon her call, the new house elf cracked into the room.

"Mistress?"

"Come, Lena. We are having company tonight, so I must look my best." Hermione said in an authoritative voice. The girl rummaged through her pile of clothes, finally deciding on a black dress, tube-toped, with frills on the bottom and a velvet cloak of the same color. She clipped her hair up and had Lena put mascara, eye-liner, blush, and lip stick on. She wore her black leather boots, too. By the time she was done, you couldn't have recognized her compared to a month ago. Finally, at five of six, she picked up her wand from it's case, and apperated downstairs to save three minutes of walking, but not before she instructed Lena to put her clothes in the closet in and orderly fashion.

Hermione waited at the door, for it was costmary for the wife the greet the visitors as they arrived and lead them to the master of the house, and sure enough, as the clock struck six, the doorbell rang (it is never polite for a registered witch or wizard to be late for anything. At least, not for a 'proper' wizard). The girl opened the door to find herself face to face with Blaise Zabini, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Cormac McLaggen. All of them were new Death Eaters. She greeted them with compliments, as was expected.

"Why Pansy! What a lovly color that dress is. Blaise, I really wasn't expecting you. What a surprise! Greg, been up to any muggle torturing lately? We certainly don't want them to think they're getting away with being what they are." She turned, her cloak swishing in the door frame. "Come, I shall take you to Draco." She didn't know why they were all staring at her as if she had just kissed a muggle—infact she even heard Pansy whispering something to Blaise and was sure it had something to do with her. Nevertheless she led them into the dinning hall where her blond beauty was waiting, his eyes wide with approval as her admired her new outfit.

"Blaise! Goyle, Pansy, Cormic! Very nice of you to come." Draco drawled.

"Dracie!!!!" Pansy exclaimed, throwing her arms around him in a passionate hug that suggested she would like to be doing a little more than that. Draco shook her off easily and graced Blaise with a handshake and a few words of welcome.

"So glad to hear you're engaged." Her husband said dryly to Cormac. "I trust you all know my wife?" He added needlessly—everyone did. "Come, let us eat." And with that, the guests were seated and kitchen elves ran out with drinks and appetizers. There was idle chitchat as they waited for the meal to be served.

"So I walk down the street, all the while aware that someone was follow'n me. Finally I stop, pretending to check what street I was on, then quick as a flash I had my wand pointing at the person in the corner, think'n 'bout the order, and find it was that Longbottom old hag. I was 'bout to kill her when this son of a mudblood fool—" Blaise looked reprochfully at Hermione. "Sorry." He mumbled. "Oh, it's not like I can help my parentage." Hermione said stiffly. Draco gave a grunt of agreement.

"Well, anyway, this fool—" but he never got past that. In the doorway stood none other then Ravenclaw's Cho Chang.

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