I think that when Lucius says, "You've lost me my house elf!" he was referring to Dobby, who seemed to be basically his personal servant, and I think in the next few years he got some more.

Or that's what happened for the sake of my story (Oh, boy, I'm screwing so much with canon here, I can't even believe it), which takes a turn for the (hopefully) comedic in this chapter.


"Draco!" his mother called, jarring him out of his book, the magic of the house echoing her voice through the stone walls. "Come to the kitchens, please!"

He ignored her for another five minutes because the book was good. Of course, this meant that she found someone to find him.

"Draco Malfoy," said Luna from his door. He didn't even need to look up to know it was her. "Your mother's calling for you. She wants you to come to the kitchens to help with dinner."

"Tell her I'm on my way," Draco said.

"But you're not," Luna said simply.

"Tell her that anyway."

Luna touched her wand to her throat, then the wall. Draco jumped as "Mrs. Malfoy, Draco would like me to tell you that he's on his way, even though he's not," reverberated around him in that distinctively hoarse-but-feminine voice.

There was a slight pause as Draco tried to decide which dungeon to lock her in, and how best to snap her wand.

"Draco, listen to your mother, or at the very least do not display your disobedience to the rest of us."

Now that Lucius was involved, Draco figured it would probably be best to go. He put the book down. He should have known better than to try to get Luna Lovegood to do his bidding. He probably wouldn't even have succeeded with an Imperius. She was just so strange he figured it wouldn't work on her anyway.

Not that he could perform one- that was his father's forte, after all.

Standing up, he pushed past Luna, who had become strangely fascinated with his doorknob and had begun muttering to it in a somewhat comforting tone, and headed down to the kitchens.

"Hi Mum," he said. She was standing over a very large pot of something and looking more frazzled than a Malfoy should ever look.

"Draco, sweetheart, can you help Mummy with her cooking? Slice up that celery in little itty-bitty bits. I'm trying to read a recipe. It's a lot trickier than it looked. But it just looked so tasty..."

Her voice drifted off. "Oh!"

She turned her attention back to the pot behind her, which had begun to make funny bubbling noises.

"Mum, neither of us are going to be able to do gourmet cooking. We've never cooked a day in our lives," said Draco.

"Draco-"

"And I'm proud of that fact!" he finished. "I've never had to cook because I'm a Malfoy, and we're powerful and rich and pure-blooded and we should certainly not have to do our own cooking!"

He punctuated that with a particularly passionate stabbing motion at the celery, and managed to slice off a chunk of his finger in the process.

Both Narcissa and Draco simultaneously screamed at the sight of his blood. Narcissa also fainted.

Lucius was at the door in a moment and had appraised the situation.

"For heaven's sake," he said, waving his wand at Draco. The wound was instantly cleaned and wrapped in a bandage. Another wave of the wand and the blood was cleaned up. "Narcissa?" he said, kneeling next to his wife on the floor and picking her up carefully. "It's all right."

"Lucius," she said, smiling up at him dreamily. And that was when she remembered, and leaped out of Lucius' arms as he dropped her, startled. "My baby! Draco, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said. "But making dinner is a dangerous thing, Mum. I shouldn't have to do it, if I'm going to get hurt so much."

Narcissa's eyes had gone all big and teary.

"My poor baby," she said, and looked at Lucius, who was rolling his eyes.

"That worked at your school because I was trying to get Dumbledore or that big oaf fired," Lucius said quietly. "Seeing as how I really don't want to get arrested, I'm not going to report myself or Narcissa. And that should heal just fine."

Draco's mouth dropped open.

"That's right," said Narcissa, although evidently it was hard for her to say. "Get- please get back to slicing the celery. And be more careful with your knife." She turned back to the pot, and continued to stir it.

"This is abuse," Draco said, glaring at the knife.

"Other children help their mothers with cooking all the time," said Lucius. "Other children can use knives. Learn."

"Other children aren't Malfoys," Draco retorted.

Lucius sighed.

"Draco, we have to rethink what we've all been taught-"

"Why?" asked Draco. The knife began to cut all on its own. Draco didn't really know how he'd done that, but tried to keep it up. "We're the Malfoys. We shouldn't have to do servant work- we've got more money than most wizards will see in their lifetimes, and we're being treated like trash. House arrest?" He sneered. "Oh, we'll get used to it very fast- the Dark Lord treated us the same way." The knife began to cut more vigorously.

Lucius opened his mouth.

"No- there isn't anything you can deny about that," Draco continued loudly. "And it'll continue- oh sure, you can talk all you like about our money but in the end we'll never get our status back, not now that we're Death Eaters. Maybe we'd even have done better if Voldemort had lived... Or if we'd been put in Azkaban, at least that way there wouldn't be any pretense of trying to help us out... Mum, why aren't we in Azkaban? It has something to do with you, doesn't it? Go on. You can tell us."

In the silence that followed, as Narcissa's eyes went wide and she cowered as though she was afraid Draco might hit her- he wouldn't, she was his mother, Lucius opened his mouth again.

"Like I said, don't even try to tell me anything different," Draco said. "All of them think we're trash."

"I wasn't going to deny it," Lucius said quietly. "I wish I could. But I can't. I was only about to tell you that Harry Potter has entered the manor."

Draco had nothing to say to this, only realizing that he hadn't noticed the wards opening up again. But now, he could feel it. He imagined he could even feel where Harry was, if he was in tune enough with the wards. He was- Draco turned back to the celery, away from his parents, closing his eyes to concentrate. Harry was...

In the doorway. Draco opened his eyes and turned around.

"I guess your wards told you that," said Potter from the doorway. "And Malfoy- Malfoy Jr, I mean, as much as I'd like to stick you in Azkaban for a few days- you wouldn't last much longer before you would be begging to be released, though you talk a good talk- I can't do that. I told them you lot would behave," he said, with a slight tinge of disappointment. "Apparently I was wrong- at least, when it comes to Malfoy Jr. anyway."

"I have every intention of cooperating, and I have discussed this with Narcissa. She does, too," said Lucius. "As for Draco... Well, I can't say."

The look Lucius gave him implied that the answer should be a firm yes.

Draco made a scoffing sound and tossed his hair back.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Potter. "See, since I pushed so hard for you to not be sent to Azkaban, they put me in charge of your punishment."

Draco and Lucius again looked at Narcissa to explain, who shook her head.

"Which means," Potter continued, ignoring their silent communications, "that if one of you steps out of line-" Draco was reminded of the Howler sent to Weasley a long, long time ago. Clearly, Potter had been spending time with Weasley's fat ugly excuse for a mother. "-I have been given the task of disciplining you, or so I was told by Percy Weasley this afternoon when Ron came back to tell me that you'd kicked him out of the house."

"My dad let him back in," muttered Draco. "Right afterwards."

"That doesn't matter," said Lucius. "The point is that you still expelled him."

"He did what?" Narcissa was shocked.

"Right, I'm glad we all see eye-to-eye on this," said Potter, looking relieved that Lucius and Narcissa seemed to agree. "So I told them I'd be taking your wand and storing it someplace safe for the time being. So this sort of thing can't happen again."

He held out his hand expectantly. Like Draco was going to just hand it over. He could feel his face twisting back into a sneer.

"Watch out, Potter," Draco said. "All this power's gone straight to your big fat head. It's a wonder you can even fit through the doorway. Oh, but at Weasel-bee's house the doorways must be extra large anyway, to fit that pig of a mother."

Draco could see Potter twitching, and he dropped the wand in Potter's hand at that moment. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco noticed the knife drop at that moment. It had diced the celery into tiny, tiny pieces in its enthusiasm. He wondered if it had stopped because he didn't have his wand on him anymore or because he'd willingly given it over.

"Watch out, Malfoy," Potter said quietly. "Azkaban's still got a few cells left over. If you're really hankering after one, I'm sure I could pull a few strings. It is, after all, your mother that I owe, and not you."

Draco had something witty prepared to fight back with. Honestly, he did.

But he met Harry Potter's eyes, and for some reason what he saw there startled him. Did Potter really hate him that much? And then his mother beat him to the punch.

"You underestimate me," Narcissa Malfoy said coolly. "I may have helped you once, but you keep forgetting why. Helping you was incidental to my own agenda, as I told you yesterday. And, if you'll recall, my agenda is to keep my son and my husband safe... I may have helped you once," she repeated, "but if you get in the way of that agenda, you will find me to be a very formidable enemy."

Potter nodded.

"If you'll stay out of my battles, Mother, I would be very grateful," said Draco.

"Our battles are your battles, Draco. We are your parents," said Lucius.

To his credit, Potter didn't even flinch. Although that was probably the Gryffindor brave-to-a-fault mentality showing itself.

"I didn't come here to fight any battles," said Potter. "Just to warn you all what will happen if he continues his behavior."

"Well, now you've warned us, and you can leave."

"I was just about to do so."

Potter looked him again the eye with those startlingly green eyes- really, why hadn't Draco ever noticed how unique they were before? He couldn't recall ever seeing a green so bright- and then he Disapparated with a resounding CRACK! and was gone.

It was silent for a moment as none of the Malfoys knew what to say.

Granger poked her head around the corner.

"I thought I heard Harry," she said.

"He visited for a moment," said Narcissa, and Draco could feel his sneer return as Narcissa's disapproval of the Mudblood in her house. "But he's gone now."

"Oh, that's too bad," Granger said, sighing. "I wanted to talk to him. Oh, well... did you need help with dinner?"

Draco fully expected his mother to politely decline, as a Mudblood wasn't worthy of touching their food. But instead she nodded, shutting her eyes as though she couldn't believe herself.

"Yes, if you have the time."

"Of course!" said Granger. "I've been reading all day. I love your library, Mrs. Malfoy. But my eyes hurt now."

Lucius had gone, and Draco decided to leave Granger there.

He threw out the celery first.


Dinner that night was a vast improvement over the dinner of the night before. Narcissa did not even look faintly disgusted with what they had produced- in fact, she looked rather pleased.

"Good job, Cissy," said Lucius, surprised.

Narcissa smiled prettily. "It wouldn't have happened without Hermione's help. Do you know, she helped me with the oven. I never realized what preheat meant. Silly, aren't I?" She and Lucius laughed.

Lucius nodded at Granger, too. "Thank you."

Granger smiled. "House elves are entirely unnecessary, as you can tell by the perfectly edible dinner before yourselves."

His parents' smiles waned a little bit.

Draco wasn't fooled. Narcissa had probably gotten Hermione to do the entire meal, and had probably cited the dreadful events of the afternoon as the chief reason for her exhaustion.

"Hermione, do you have to put SPEW in everything?" asked Longbottom.

Lucius' and Narcissa's smiles completely disappeared and each looked at their food with politely but inefficiently masked horror. Longbottom seemed to have been rendered speechless by his own stupidity. This, Draco decided, had to have been a first. It also gave Draco hope. Perhaps someday, Longbottom would realize his own ignorance and hurl himself off a cliff. It would even perhaps be an expression of his mad Gryffindor nobility, a sacrifice for the betterment of the world. Such selfless stupidity must have been in him somewhere. He was, after all, a Gryffindor.

"Yes, Granger," said Draco. "About that. This might be an uncomfortable question for the dinner table, but I have to ask- is that a Muggle custom? Or is that just a result of your unfortunate dental issues? Either way, it simply has to cease."

Granger gaped at him with something akin to shock, but with a little more humiliation than shock normally entails.

"It's the Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare," she said after a moment, managing impressively to not scream. "S. P. E. W. Not 'spew'. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, your food is fine. It's just an acronym for the group."

Lucius and Narcissa nodded slowly, and each began to delicately pick at their food, Lucius wearing a particularly vicious scowl. Draco remembered how pissed he'd been when Dobby had been freed.

"Do you still have those badges?" Luna asked curiously. She had been eating her food cheerfully the whole time, Draco noticed. "I lost mine. I'd like another one."

Lucius's scowl deepened further, and his fork made a plink! plink! sound which steadily increased in volume against the plate as he chased a particularly slippery piece of broccoli.

Granger brightened considerably. "Yes, I might have a few. I'll find you one after dinner! Would anyone else like one? Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy?"

He stared at her for a moment. The cheerfully hopeful expression on her face soon faded, replaced with realization and regret, and eventually a clear desire to hide under her chair.

"No," said Lucius firmly after a long pause, at which point he seemed sure that she understood what an offense he took the offer to be. "Certainly not. I am finished with dinner. Goodnight."

It was quiet as his boots clicked on the stones, all the way to the kitchens. Everyone winced as the plate crashing into the sink, particularly Draco, who couldn't tell if it had broken, but didn't really want to know or clean it up (though he knew he would have to do both at a future time).

"Oh, dear," said Luna. "I've done it again. Driven someone away from a conversation. I apologize."

Everyone ignored her, and they finished their food in silence.


After the SPEW-dinner fiasco, the relations between the Malfoy Manor residents became a little bit strained (though Granger helped with dinner each night and SPEW was never mentioned at the dinner table again. Indeed, Narcissa and Granger established a kind of rapport.).

Ronald Weasley or Harry Potter showed up daily. Weasley spent his time around Granger in the library, and Draco vowed never to enter that library again. It would be forever tainted by what he imagined the blood-traitor and the Mudblood got up to.

Potter spent his time around Longbottom and Loony. Draco imagined that the latter two got up to stuff, too. In fact, Draco had very little better to do than to skulk around the house, and somewhere inside his mind, there was probably a part of him that was very jealous that he didn't have anyone to hang out with.

That part was soon snuffed out by the rest of his brain, which screamed, oh, like you'd really want to go hang out with the Chosen Boy, his idiot friend, and his other insane friend? Indeed, Luna had taken to greeting the doorknob of every room she entered. She'd also given them names. Draco even thought she might remember all these names, and use the correct one when she went to a doorknob she'd named. He would have proof, if he didn't have better things to do than to follow Loony Lovegood around all day.

Oh, who was he kidding?

He didn't.

Yes, he'd soon adjusted to life with the Ministry hanging over him. He had not, however, adjusted to life alone in the mansion. He supposed he would look back on these times and consider them wasted. He was young, he was handsome, and he was moderately rich. But he hid in his room all day and didn't talk to anyone, and instead lay on his bed, reading books from his shelf.

On one such day, Luna came to visit with his doorknob. She flung open the door and sat in front of the door, seating herself so that she was staring down the side of the door, and she could see both sides of the doorknob.

Well, it might look like a face- the middle part that went into the doorframe being the nose and the two sides of the knob being its eyes-- No! He must not think this way. He was certain it was in the part of his brain that thought he might want to make friends with this lot.

The crazy part.

"Hello, Arnold," she said cheerfully. "How's life been lately?" A pause. "Oh, I'm sad to hear that."

"Excuse me," said Draco, in a way that hopefully implied he did not think he was the one that needed to be excused.

"You're excused," said Lovegood, nodding at him, then turning back to the doorknob. "Well, Arnold, that sounds like quite the predicament. Oh! Draco Malfoy. Did you want to be introduced?"

"I am well-acquainted with my doorknob. I have used it every day for years."

"Oh, but that doesn't mean you're friends. I don't think you've been properly introduced. See, Doorknob Pixies are very particular about some things. Arnold, this is Draco Malfoy. Malfoy, this is Arnold, your Doorknob Pixie."

Draco had never heard of a breed of pixie that inhabited doorknobs, much less one that was up for chatting with.

"Nice to meet you," said Draco with as much sarcasm as he could fit. "I'm sure we'll be great friends. Lovegood, could you restrict your chats to times when people aren't trying to read?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, but this is an emergency. Arnold really needed my help."

"With what?"

"Well, he's been trying to get the attention of Marianne across the hall for quite some time, and she seemed interested a few times, but mostly she's just giving him the cold shoulder. Any advice?"

"She was probably just playing with him. One of those girls that likes attention. Shouldn't you be keeping your voices down? Perhaps she can hear you... If she exists."

Luna didn't even bat an eye.

"A little bit pessimistic. Maybe she's just playing hard to get?"

Arnold seemed pacified, because Luna patted him on the outward side and left.

"You'll have to keep me posted. I've got to go, though," she said. "Draco might be happy to talk to you, though. A little man-to-man chat?"

Draco didn't hear anything after she left, so he assumed Arnold the Doorknob Pixie found the idea just as sickening as he did.