I've edited this due to something I read on The Leaky Cauldron. So I hope you do't mind. :) Cheers to all who've read and reviewed. This chapter is a bit rushed, but I do hope you've enjoyed what I've got so far. Anyway Happy Christmas and a Joyous New Year to everyone. Happy reading. :D

Chapter 4

"What could he possibly want now?" Hermione whined to no one in particular. She gritted her teeth and mustered the strength to keep her cool. "I'll be buggered if I'm going to help him after everything that's happened. But, hell, I can't just do nothing about it." Hermione got off her bed and once again trudged down their staircase.

""What's it this time, Malfoy?" Hermione asked as she opened the door to the basement.

"Granger," Malfoy said, as he looked up. "What have you done to my robes?"

"Nothing," Hermione answered defensively.

"Bob's your uncle."

"What in Merlin's beard are you on about, Malfoy?" asked Hermione. "I'm feeling right knackered I think I'd feel better if I just slit my wrists. On second thought, your wrists. So could you just please try to make sense? I'm not asking for a lot. Just a tad bit."

"Think you're funny, Granger?" Malfoy said. "You haven't done anything with my robes. Why haven't you done anything? What, you think I enjoy wearing filthy, bloodied up, torn robes?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, your royal highness. I forgot. However, you're a pretty good wizard, with just a flick of your wand, you could have fixed it yourself. So why did you have to bloody scream for me?"

"Because, oh-so-smart Granger," Malfoy drawled. "My wand is not with me, as you might have noticed. And I know."

"You know what?"

"That you think I'm a spiffing good wizard."

"Whoever gave you that idea, Malfoy?"

"You did, when you said, and I quote, 'you're a pretty good wizard, with just a flick of your wand, you could have fixed it yourself,' right Granger?" Malfoy smirked at this. "And now, you're just as red as the roots of Weasley's horrid hair."

I'll just let this slip, Hermione thought to herself. Just give him what he wants and I'd be off snuggled under my duvet. But where the bloody hell did I leave his wand?

"Well, Granger?" Malfoy sneered. "I'm waiting."

"Hold on," Hermione said as she remembered leaving it on the settee in their lounge a mere hour ago. "I'll go fetch your wand then clean you up."

"Malfoy?" Hermione said softly as she peeked through the gap between the door and the doorway. "You awake?"

"I am now, thanks to you, Mud – I mean, Granger," Malfoy said hesitantly.

Hermione slowly entered the basement and studied Malfoy's face. "What's wrong with you?"

"I, uh –" Malfoy stammered. "Well, I realize that under the circumstances, it'd be best if I avoid using the M word. Seeing as how I am in your basement, sleeping on your sheets and eating your food, it would seem that I should be a proper guest, although I am being held against my will."

"Oh where do you come off, Malfoy!" Hermione said. "If you're – "

"Stop it, Granger. I am just kidding. You're barmy, you know that?" Malfoy smirked.

"Actually, yes. Yes, I know that," she said with an almost smile. "Anyways, I was thinking, it's about half six, you must be hungry."

"What do you have?"

"Well, my folks don't actually know you're here, so I can't feed you their food, as they might wonder where they're all going," Hermione said. "And I can't say I ate it all, that would be quite a bit of rubbish."

"So why did you offer me food if you can't give me any?" asked Malfoy, his eyes shooting darts.

"Well, I was thinking of going out to buy a couple of stuff."

"But that could take a while," Malfoy said. "Why don't you just conjure some?"

"Malfoy, you know I can't just... Wait, speaking of magic... Well, I was wondering about that actually," Hermione said thoughtfully. "As you know, we are not allowed to used magic outside of Hogwarts, right? When on holidays? But when I found you, I did use your wand to do some things, because I completely forgot about the rule. But then nothing. You know? I didn't get a letter, or a warning from the Ministry. No nothing."

"Of course," Malfoy said. "What with all that's been happening, I doubt they'd go looking for underage use of magic offenders. There's so much more to handle, I suppose. I'm not sure of what has been happening exactly, since I haven't heard from anyone in, I'm not sure how long I've been gone actually…"

"That's another thing, Malfoy," Hermione said quietly. "Why aren't you there? Why are you here?"

"Don't want to talk about that," Malfoy said, suddenly all ominous again. "Why don't you just grab my wand and conjure something up. With all this talking, I'm suddenly starved."

Hermione knew she shouldn't push the topic further, though she really wanted to know more. She walked over to the table where Malfoy's wand was and sat back down beside the sheets. "Oh, another thing, I can't just conjure something up. You know that, right?"

"Of course, I'm not daft," Malfoy said with a frown. "Why not? Just refresh my memory."

"Because, Malfoy, conjuring something out of thin air would be likely to vanish after an hour or two, re-mem-ber?" Hermione said enunciating each syllable well as she rolled her eyes. "So I still have to go down to the grocer's to get stuff that would actually quench your hunger. Now, what do you feel like having?"

"Hmmm…" Malfoy said with a squint. "Maybe some bangers and mash, chips, fillet steak, cracklings, then for afters –"

"A bit peckish, now are you? Will you be paying for all these?" Hermione said as she raised an eyebrow. "I thought I was conjuring something just for you, I didn't know you were hiding an entire battalion down here."

"Hey, at least all I'm asking for are the main dishes and some afters, no need for starters, not really fond of them," Malfoy said with what seemed to look like a lopsided smile. "Besides, I haven't eaten a decent meal in yonks, and no I don't want to talk about it," he said as he noticed Hermione's expression and half-opened mouth that was about to ask something. "Plus, I'm not sure how good you conjure food, so I'll have to have a wide variety. So if one of them is botched up then I could go for the others."

"Okay, but I am a good food conjurer."

"So you say," Malfoy said as he smirked. "Now, as I was saying, for afters maybe flakes, gateau, some treacle pudding, scones with cream and strawberry jam…"

"Want a cuppa with that, Lady Malfoy?" asked Hermione sarcastically.

"I'll let that rude comment pass, and yes, I would like some tea as well." Malfoy scoffed.

"I warned you Draco," he heard the Dark Lord hiss. "Well, what can I expect? Like father, like son, I suppose? Lucius should have taught you better. But alls well that ends well, don't you think? Your father may be in Azkaban. A fate you will not have, as previous events have shown us. No, not Azkaban? And do you know why, Little Draco?"

Draco was standing in what seemed to be a huge empty dungeon. Dust filled the walls and grime stuck to the ground beneath their feet. The Dark Lord stood in front of Draco, the Death Eaters followed suit and encircled him. He noticed a shaking dark figure, whose face was half covered by a black hood. But he knew those lips. It was his mother.

"Mum?" Draco whispered.

The figure looked high enough for Draco to see her eyes. In those pair of frightful eyes he knew his mother had lost hope. Narcissa shook her head as a solitary tear rolled down her cheek.

"Answer the question, Draco," Voldemort bellowed.

"Because I have committed no crime in the eyes of the Misnistry," Draco said softly yet firm.

"And yet you will find a sticky ending, as well, just like your dear father. You know why Draco?"

"Because I failed to complete my task, I did not kill Dumbledore."

"What a very intelligent boy we have here, don't we, Narcissa?" Voldemort sneered as he walked over to Narcissa Malfoy. "Very smart indeed, albeit a fool."

A few Death Eaters snickered. Voldemort turned to face them, his robe billowing behind him. "Crabbe! Goyle! You find that funny, do you? And what about you're little ones? I don't see them stepping up to the plate, now do I?"

"N-n-no my Lord," whispered the two.

"Now, my dear Draco," Voldemort hissed. "Do you know what I have in store for you?"

"Yes."

"Are you prepared for your own story's ending?"

"No, but I guess I have no choice, now do I?" Draco said.

Voldemort's eyes flashed in anger. "Crucio!" he yelled as Draco fell unto the cold, grimy floor and writhed in unexplainable torment. "For your cheek, Malfoy," Voldemort sneered. "Crucio!"

Draco felt so much pain till he thought he would be so numb and block out the intensity of the anguish that enveloped him. But to his dismay, the pain lingered on. If it was even possible, the agony just kept intensifying. He jerked and twitched on the ground, vaguely aware of his mother's cries. His eyes rolled back and his fingers stiffened and his back arched. He couldn't even scream out the pain he was feeling. He tried to open his mouth but no sound would come out.

From afar he heard someone condemn him with a loud hiss. "Avada kedavra!"

Enjoyed that? I hope so. Now, if you would be so kind as to go clickety-click-click on that little button down there and leave a short message (a.k.a. a review) for me, I would be delighted. Thanks! Tara!