Chapter 4

A/N: A huge thank you to GreekGirl for bravely battling the evils of technology and its many malfunctions to get this all beated for me, and by extension, you guys. Also thanks to everyone who reviewed!

~Frosty

The room was dark when she woke up, something she wasn't used to, even when Malfoy wasn't a shadowy figure lurking around her flat, Hermione usually slept with at least a nightlight. It seemed that Malfoy had done away with her faithful little light sometime during the night. Prat.

It was then that Hermione realised that she'd woken up alone. The other side of the bed was still warm, so Malfoy couldn't have been gone long though. She reluctantly pulled herself out of her comfy bed and dragged her reluctant body to the shower to get ready for what was sure to be a horrifying day.

"Granger."

She squeaked and nearly dropped the frying pan when Malfoy appeared beside her. The time period between when he touched her and he solidified was getting shorter and shorter. She was unsure if this was something good or bad; either way, it was annoying.

"What Malfoy?"

"I need to use the loo." He told her reluctantly.

Her nose wrinkled in annoyance and distaste as she remembered the first time they'd tried a trip to the washroom.

They'd been studying her medical books for what felt like forever when Malfoy started shifting in his chair. Hermione tried to ignore it, but after a while, it was really starting to get on her nerves.

"Malfoy, do you need the loo or something?" She finally demanded, not really expecting an answer. She'd been hoping that mentioning it would make him realize that he was fidgeting and he'd stop.

He glared at her for bringing it up, but nodded reluctantly. Hermione would have been amused that he needed to ask her to take him to the washroom if it didn't mean that she had to go in there with him. She wondered what she'd done to deserve this; it was a whole new level of mortifying to bring your enemy to the toilet and hold his hand the entire time he was in there.

With a huge sigh, she stood up and led him to the loo, where they both stood awkwardly.

Hermione had never been as glad as she was that moment that she had an extensive knowledge of obscure spells. She waved her wand and put up an opaque, soundproof barrier all around herself. While she was inside her bubble, she could pretend that Malfoy wasn't there and retreat inside her mind. All she had to do was pretend the grip on her wrist was someone she wanted near her and that the tiled floor was sand, and a million other things were different until she was on a nice beach somewhere with an attractive man who didn't know a word of English with which to insult her.

Malfoy poked his head through the barrier after a second, he'd probably been talking to her on the other side and grown frustrated when he couldn't see or hear her response.

"Soundproof and visually opaque barrier that doesn't actually restrict movement," he said in an impressed voice. The realization seemed to hit him that he'd shown something she'd done had impressed him, so he smoothed his face into a haughty scowl before pulling his head out of her bubble.

She felt him tug her forward a few steps. It was the perfect time for her to despair over the insanity her life had descended into. One day into her vacation and she was already in way over her head.

Malfoy's head poked back into her bubble. "You can get rid of this thing now."

She banished her shield and followed him back to the books, whishing the entire time that she could permanently conjure one between the two of them. They both went back to their reading as if nothing had ever happened.

"You can wait until after I'm done my breakfast," she said, indicating the eggs she was cooking. Not giving him a chance to object, Hermione ripped her arm out of his grasp and went back to cooking. It wasn't like his problem was going to get any worse while he wasn't corporeal after all, he could wait.

Apparently, Malfoy decided it wasn't worth the fight because he left her alone while she ate her meal. He was probably hungry as well, but she had decided to play an evil game and make him get over his pride and ask her for food. Gone were the days when Hermione would just offer him the things he needed like she would have with a normal guest. If she was feeling particularly sadistic, she would make him say please.

Hermione was once again in the loo in her bubble when Malfoy poked his head inside and surprised her with an announcement. "I need to have a shower."

Her arms came up and crossed over her chest as she tried to work out how they would manage that; whatever they did, it would be awkward. She seemed to be in a constant state of awkwardness since his appearance, and contrary to what she'd assumed, that's not something a person can just get used to.

Malfoy seemed to take her stance as an invitation to elaborate. "If I'm going to go into work, I need to be clean and well dressed." His sliver eyes ran over the wrinkled and dirty casual robes he'd been wearing for the 'dog show' with Goyle. "I'm going to need something more formal to wear as well. I think we're going to have to make a stop at the Manor."

Her face paled and she suddenly felt cold. Malfoy Manor was not somewhere Hermione had ever thought she would need to visit again – the death of the older generation of Malfoys didn't do much to reduce the terror under which their house still firmly held her. It wasn't the people who had lived there so much as it was the place itself. Her reaction was similar to the victim of a horrible car accident that was hesitant to drive down the road where they had crashed.

She waved her wand, vanquishing the barrier as a distraction from the grey eyes that were probably observing her reaction carefully and guessing too much about her mindset – the foul git could be observant when he wanted to be. It was skill honed through a lifetime with Slytherins.

"It's not dangerous at the Manor anymore, Granger. The only people who live there are me and a small army of House Elves."

It was almost like he was trying to make her mad. "You Purebloods all think you have the right to make another living creature spend its entire life waiting on you hand and foot without any form of compensat- were you trying to make me angry enough to go to the Manor and try to free your elves?"

He smirked at her and shrugged. "It almost worked. We need to go either way, and manipulating you seemed the easier route."

"That's so... so-"

"Slytherin?" He offered as his bloody smirk widened.

Talking to him was like banging her head repeatedly on a wall – a sharp stone wall; something that would do a lot of damage to her poor head. If he was going to be staying long, she was going to have to stock up on pain relieving potions; the headaches alone could be the death of her.

Glaring all the while, she perched on the edge of her bathtub and looked pointedly at the git before casting the spell around herself once again. Towels were prominently displayed in a rack beside the tub, so she grabbed one and placed it on her lap; it would be easier to just hand Malfoy the towel as he got out of the shower than have him wandering naked on the slippery tiles trying to find them. Though his death would solve her problems, she would rather not have a naked Malfoy ghost following her around making snide comments about her blood and choice of decor.

It wasn't long before a frustrated and dripping head appeared through her shield. "Granger, I can't wash properly holding your wrist, I can't even put my arm all the way up with you sitting there holding it down. Give me your hand."

Immediately suspicious, Hermione glared at him. "Why?"

"Just do it." He ordered.

Apparently, the prat had forgotten that he was in no position to make demands. Hermione was just about to tell him to sod off and find someone else to help him with he grabbed her wrist in a grip she was unable to escape and pressed her hand against what felt like his knee. He held it there until her reflexive reaction of ripping her hand away had passed and she'd moved on to the frozen, in shock stage.

"Move your hand any higher and I'll whack you with your own conditioner bottle -which I can only assume is for decoration, since you obviously never use it," he threatened, pulling his head out of the bubble and going back to his shower before she could retort.

"I knew this was going to be a long day," she groaned, knowing he wouldn't be able to hear her distress through the shield.

Without waiting for her to hand it over, Malfoy snatched the towel off of her lap. She assumed he wrapped it around his waist, but he didn't stick his head in the bubble to tell her she could remove it. This left Hermione in the frustrating position of hiding in the bubble until he told her it was safe to come out or risk seeing no doubt disturbing things that would never be unseen.

He pulled her to her feet and held onto her wrist tighter right before she felt the tug of Apparation.

Not meant to withstand the kind of pressure that comes with a rapid location change, her poor shield dissolved before they'd even reached their destination. They appeared in a lavish bedroom decorated in sliver and green.

"Pansy!" Malfoy yelled.

"I can't believe you'd just pull me with you like that! Like I'm some kind of- Parkinson's here?" Hermione's scolding skills were a little off, her brain was still a touch addled from the surprise Apparation she'd been subjected to.

His silver eyes rolled towards the ceiling as if asking for patience before he answered. "No, Parkinson's not here. She was, however, here when we named my personal House Elf as children. When we were young she was quite a bit bigger than me, and very persuasive.

"As for dragging you here: I need clothes and you obviously weren't going to be reasonable about it." He finished.

"I was tortured here by your crazy aunt!" She shrilled at him.

"So was I!" He yelled right back at her. "And by Voldemort and my father. I'm supposed to be the coward, yet you're the one on the verge of a panic attack." His voice had quieted down after the initial exclamation, taking on a dark tone.

A small pop interrupted whatever her response may have been, which was probably best for both parties. "How may Pansy be helping Master?" The elf asked.

Malfoy ordered her to pack him a bag with all the essentials as well as enough clothes to last him a few days and for work robes to be laid out on the bed. The two waited in awkward silence as the little elf jumped to do what she was asked.

It was then that Hermione noticed Malfoy was still wearing a towel; would it really have taken so much effort for him to put his pants on before he dragged her here? The man was an exhibitionist... Her traitorous eyes couldn't help wander over him while he wasn't looking. Just because he had reason to be proud didn't mean he had to flaunt himself!

The elf set the packed bag down in front of them and left the room before Hermione could even think to have some words with the poor, enslaved creature.

Malfoy pulled her over to the bed, where his clothes were waiting. "Put your hand on my shoulder unless you want to see me naked." He said, watching with amusement when the brunette blushed and immediately did what he'd ordered.

He pulled his pants up under the towel before letting it drop, actually chuckling when Hermione blushed even more. "Granger, you're acting like a preteen girl who's never seen a man before. I highly doubt you're as innocent as you're pretending."

Hermione looked away. "You have no business thinking about how innocent I may or may not be, even if it's just speculation. Now shut up and put some clothes on." The prat was easier to deal with when he had a shirt on... It took a bit of manoeuvring, but he managed to get the shirt and robe on without too much more difficulty.

"I'm sure the wall is fascinating Granger, but I'm dressed now, it's safe to look." He was getting way too much amusement out of her discomfort.

If she didn't suspect that she'd only humiliate herself, Hermione would see how embarrassed he was when she was walking around without a shirt. "Let's get this office thing over with," she grumbled.

Malfoy didn't tease her anymore, sensing she was close to her breaking point. On the bright side, her discomfort in his presence completely distracted her from her discomfort in his house. Once again Malfoy Apparated her away without any real warning, but she was ready for it this time, having learned that she needed to be prepared for something surprising when he wasn't insulting her.

"For someone who spends so much time criticizing the decorating skills of others, you seem awfully fond of the Slytherin colour scheme." She looked around at the office in which they'd appeared; it looked like somewhere Salazar himself would work.

"Just focus on being an airhead Granger." He waved his wand and changed her hair to a bleached blonde colour, then shrunk her clothes about four sizes until it was hard for her to breathe, and would be impossible to bend over should she drop something. "Now hang off my arm and only answer direct questions. A high pitched giggle would probably help matters."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So you basically want me to channel Lavender Brown."

"No, she's still too... Gryffindor. Think of everything about yourself that you take pride in, forget it, and then do the opposite." He muttered, opening the door of the office and leading them out into the hall. What helpful advice. Was he insulting all the girls he dated and giving her a backwards compliment? She wasn't going to waste the brainpower trying to understand his twisted mind.

"You have horrendous taste in women," she responded close to his ear. To an outside observer, it would appear that she was whispering flirtatiously. The action disturbed them both greatly.

A short, nervous looking man came out of a door down the hallway and froze when he saw Malfoy.

"Mr. Malfoy!" He gasped. "I thought you were missing!" His shifty little eyes made even Hermione suspect that he was up to something, and she didn't even have a Slytherin's natural distrust of people.

"You should know not to believe the press says." Malfoy sneered in what Hermione assumed was his most condescending tone. The mousy man got twitchier and looked even more nervous. She was pretty sure he was almost ready to start gnawing holes in the walls so he'd have somewhere to hide.

Hermione chose that moment to let out a high pitched giggle in an attempt to ease the withering stare Malfoy was giving the poor man. Her laugh only seemed to put Malfoy even more on edge and make the little man twitchier. Well, she tried.

Malfoy gave her a look out of the corner of his eye that she interpreted as 'tone it down a bit' before turning his full attention back to the man. "Just get me the paperwork I need to take a prolonged vacation." Malfoy snapped, causing the man to start and rapidly retreat.

"Merlin Granger, I wanted them to think you were an airhead, not a mental patient!" He groaned quietly when the man had scurried out of earshot.

"I'm not the best actress in case you haven't noticed!" She hissed defensively.

The man came back and handed Malfoy a single paper. The blonde promptly snatched the form, scanned the writing, and then pulled a self-inking quill out of his pocket to sign it with a flourish.

"Thank you Mr...?" Hermione started with a vapid smile.

"Smith." He told her with a smile, seeming to relax a little since Malfoy was distracted and Hermione had shown him a little kindness.

Malfoy mumbled something that sounded like 'he doesn't even look like a Smith'. He handed the paper back to Mr. Smith and turned back to his office. "We'll be going now."

He dragged Hermione back to his office so they could apparate away before his employees started expecting kindness.

"Malfoy, whatever you did to my clothes and hair, undo it before I pass out from air restriction." Hermione snapped as soon as the door clicked shut behind them.

"I don't know... at least now I have something to look at while you nag me," he drawled, looking her up and down. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest when he lingered on them. Her motion only served to squish the hand he had around her wrist against the offending body-part, which in turn cause him to smirk that bloody smirk of his. That was the final straw for her, she'd had a stressful day and he just kept pushing and pushing.

There was no doubt in her mind that she'd be able to change her clothes and hair back without much difficulty, but without knowing what spell the prat had used, there was a chance that her clothes would disintegrate and leave her naked. She whipped out her wand and stunned him.

When he fell to the ground, she carefully took off his robe, leaving him in his pants and button up shirt. With an evil grin, she wrapped the robe around herself and then released him from the spell. Doing her best not to notice that the stolen garment smelt nice – it smelt like him, she faced the irate blonde as he jumped to his feet.

"What the hell Granger?" Malfoy growled as soon as he was free to move.

"I wasn't going to just stand by and let you ogle me like a piece of meat!" Her voice was shrill by the word 'meat' and Malfoy winced a little from the volume and pitch of the noise.

"You could have just changed when we got back to your flat!"

"We're not going back to my flat." Hermione said, directing a smile at him that left a distinctly uneasy expression on his face.