Here's chapter six! I actually had wrote this a couple of days ago, and was planning on posting it yesterday, but then - guess what! - the power went out, so that idea flew out the window. So here it is. This is one of my favorite chapters so far, so I really (REALLY) hope you guys like it! Oh, and there's some Harry/Ginny in this as well - just a tiny bit, but it's still in there :)

Thank you to everyone who put an alert on my story, it means the world to me! Hugs!

Now I'll shut up so you guys can read the chapter ;)Chapter Six – A Necessary Evil


The next few days went by in a blur. It wasn't long before Malfoy was out of bed and walking around. He got set to a list of chores, and put up the sort of fuss that would have caused Mrs. Weasley to swap him in the rear end with her broomstick.

"What on earth am I supposed to do with this?" he demanded, holding up Which-Witch-Is-Which Laundry detergent.

Hermione let out a huffy sigh from where she was feeling around in hers, Harry's, Ginny's, and Malfoy's clothes pockets to make sure they hadn't left anything important in them. "You pour it in, Malfoy."

"Where?"

"Into the washing machine. Lucky for you, this is a wizarding washing machine, so it just automatically washes and dries the clothes by itself, but you have to put in the laundry and the soap."

Malfoy made a face. "You mean I actually have to – " he gulped – "touch yours and the rest of this band of freaks' unmentionables?"

Hermione smirked. "As unhappy as I am at the prospect of you washing my bras, the look on your face completely makes up for it."

Malfoy glowered at her as she pushed one basket of clothes (there were four – no one in the house enjoyed doing laundry, and they usually put it off as long as possible, until they were nearly at the point of resorting to wearing old Daily Prophets held together with Spellotape) towards him, and he dipped his thumb and index finger in and held up one of Harry's t-shirts.

"I don't see why I have to do chores anyway. I never had to chores at my house."

"And are you at your house now, Malfoy? No. So stop your complaining and get on with it."

"Fine," he conceded, and she turned back around to continue sorting clothes. She heard him tap his wand against the appliance, and it began streaming water. She could hear the fump, fump, of the clothes as he gingerly – and with many disgusted breaths – dropped them into the basin. There was the rattling sound, reminiscent of sand in someone's shoes, as he dumped the detergent in after the clothes. And then he yelled.

Hermione spun back around just in time to find the washing machine spitting the detergent and laundry back out at him. He was covered head-to-toe in half-formed soap bubbles and water.

"What the hell…?" he gasped out.

Hermione couldn't help it. The sight of him literally dripping bubbles and water, with an outraged look on his face and one of her own plaid, flannel button-up shirts hanging off of his head, sent her into rib-cracking laughter. He glared at her again, this time with his hands on her hips, which in turn caused her to fall to her knees.

"STOP IT!" he roared. "IT'S NOT FUNNY!" This of course just prodded her to fall forward, rolling around on the ground, shaking so hard she felt as if she was about to have a seizure.

It was several minutes before she managed to get her laughter under control. She laid on the hard cold stone floor, looking up at him, a giggle escaping from her mouth every now and then. He glared down at her, the shirt still over his head, and still covered with water and laundry detergent. "Are you going to help me clean this mess up or not?" He indicated the mini-pond in the middle of the laundry room, where all the excess water had ended up at.

Hermione clambered to her feet. "I suppose." She waved her wand. "Scourgify!" Immediately the soap bubbles and water disappeared from the floor, and Malfoy dried himself off with a wave of his wand.

Hermione walked over to the washing machine and lifted the container of the detergent. It was a lot lighter than it had been when she had shoved it into Malfoy's hands.

"You used too much of this. The washing machine is slightly allergic, it can't handle too much. When you dumped it all in, it sneezed."

Malfoy stared at her, eyes wide, jaw nearly hitting the floor. "The appliance sneezed?" he demanded as if it was something strange.

Hermione nodded unconcernedly. "Yeah. It was allergic."

"Let me get this straight – the washing machine is allergic to laundry detergent."

Hermione nodded again, her large brown eyes blinking, feeling confused. He was acting like he had never heard of an allergic appliance. "Yes."

"And is the dishwasher allergic to the dish soap?" Malfoy demanded, arms crossed.

"No, but the stove can't handle too many heavy pots and pans anymore. When Sirius was alive, he told Harry, Ro – I mean us – that it could cook an entire feast at once, but it's getting on in years, and it has arthritis."

"I think I need to sit down," Malfoy said, sinking down onto the floor.

Hermione plopped down beside him. "I thought I was the muggle-born here. Weren't you ever around when Dobby or whoever was your servant at the time was doing the chores."

"Of course! But they were always done by hand."


Harry and Ginny sat in the library, Ginny in Harry's lap. With Hermione and Ferret-Boy in the laundry room just off the basement kitchen, and no one else in the house, they had some time to themselves.

Ginny let her lips float towards Harry's, pressing their mouths together. His arms tightened around her, and his tongue poked at the entrance to her mouth, asking, begging, pleading to be let through. Ginny opened her mouth just enough to let his tongue in, and pressed her own between his lips. She swept her tongue around his teeth and his gums, and he shuddered at the feather-light feel of her tongue on the inside of his cheek. She raised her hand to his cheek, and stroked her thumb down his high cheekbone. He shivered again.

Suddenly, there was a loud pop and a patronus in the form of a deer erupted in front of them.

"I am apparating to headquarters. Take down the charms so I can come in," Snape's voice echoed throughout the room.

Harry and Ginny exchanged dark glances, but nevertheless Ginny slid off of his lap and together they walked out of the room and to the entrance hall. Ginny opened the door, and Harry took the anti-death eater spells from the entrance. "You can come in now," he said to what no doubt looked like no one in particular, but a moment later, Snape appeared and hurried past them. He always performed a disillusionment charm before apparating to headquarters, because the anti-death eater spells prevented him from apparating directly onto the step; instead he had to settle for landing on the sidewalk outside numbers 11 and 13, as number 12 Grimmauld Place was invisible to anyone who had not been let in on the secret. The disillusionment charm was to disguise himself if any death eaters were lurking around.

"Where are Draco and Miss Granger?" he demanded once they had the door shut and the protective spells up.

"Downstairs, washing clothes," Ginny replied.

"Go and get them, I have something very important to discuss with all four of you. I will be in the library."

Harry and Ginny exchanged worried glances – what could have happened? – but did as they were told. They hurried down to the laundry room to find Hermione throwing the last garment into a laundry basket so it could get washed, and Malfoy shaking his head and muttering about sensitive appliances.

"Snape's upstairs," Harry spoke out. "He wants to talk to all of us, says it's important."

"All right," Hermione agreed, and Malfoy immediately brightened up at the news that his favorite teacher and godfather was here.

The four left the laundry room and headed into the kitchen, before tramping up the stairs. Hermione led the way to the library. It was a large room, with floor-to-ceiling bookcases hiding every inch of wall space, and dark crimson chairs and mahogany tables arranged throughout the place. Ladders leaned up against the bookcases, and oil lamps stood on the tables for reading light.

Snape had already placed himself in a chair in the darkest corner, the hem of his black robes sweeping his feet, his sleeves flapping over his hands and dripping down, and, not for the first time, Harry was reminded of a bat.

"Sit down," he said silkily, as if he owned this house, not Harry, but while at one time the three Gryffindors would have argued, they were much too worried about what he was about to tell them. Images of friends' and family's bodies paraded through their minds like some gruesome horror show – even in Draco's head, because he, as much as he hated to admit it, liked Kingsley and didn't want to see anything bad happen to him.

The four teenagers plopped down wearily into chairs and scooted in around Snape, so that he could tell them whatever he needed to tell them.

"Has something happened, Professor?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

Snape glanced at her sharply. "What – ? No, nothing at all. And that, Miss Granger, is the exact problem."

"What do you mean?" Harry wanted to know.

"This mission you two – " he pointed back and forth between Harry and Hermione " – are on has been temporarily abandoned, due to one of your number being turned into a werewolf. Am I correct?"

"Very much so," Hermione replied.

"But you have gotten rid of the locket, and have the cup?"

Both of them nodded.

"Where is it?"

"Upstairs in my bag," Hermione told him, while Ginny and Draco frowned in confusion.

Snape leaned back in his chair. "While Ronald Weasley was, I'm sure, in his own way an asset to the cause, the search must go on."

"But two people? We need at least three, if only because there is safety in numbers," Hermione cried.

Snape turned his head slowly to look at her, a smile twisting on his lips, snakelike. "Ah, but you will have four, instead of two, Miss Granger. You will have Miss Weasley and Mr. Malfoy here."

There was an instant uproar as everyone began shouting at once:

"There's no way in hell I'm going to spend months and months with the leaders of Hogwarts' band-of-freaks, especially searching for something I don't know about!" Draco roared.

"Ginny can't come with us, it's too dangerous!" Harry yelled.

"Malfoy can't come with us, we'll end up killing each other, and Ginny isn't of age!" Hermione screamed.

"Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on?" Ginny screeched.

"I believe you have some explaining to do, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, but I urge you both to consider my suggestion. It might mean the turning point of the war, after all," Snape told them.

"Harry and I have to talk about this," Hermione said, and grabbed Harry by the sleeve, pulling him out of the room and to the sitting room. "Well?" she demanded. "What do you think of this?"

"I don't want Ginny to come with us," he said automatically. "It's too dangerous."

"What, and you think she's going to be safe here, at the headquarters? She's here because her family are all getting sent out on missions, and it's too dangerous anywhere else."

"My point exactly, this place has the best protection ever."

"But if the death eaters come knocking…Harry, wouldn't you like to know that she's safe?"

Harry paused. "Weren't you the one hollering about her being underage?"

"She's about to turn seventeen, next week actually. I was in too much shock to really think about what I was saying. But I think we should let her, she wants to be with you, and she wants to help win the war. She's a talented fighter, we could really use her help."

Harry leaned against the wall exhaustedly, running his hands through his messy jet black hair. "Maybe…"

"This is the best thing you can do for her Harry."

"Fine! But what about Malfoy?"

"He can't come with us."

"Hermione – "

"I'm serious! We'll tear each other apart!"

"Hermione, listen to reason. We could really use his help as well as Ginny's. He was a death eater, he knows how they operate, how they think, how they trap their victims. Plus, he probably knows curses that we could only have nightmares about. He could teach us how to become the ultimate fighters. I mean, we're good, but in a battle against several death eaters at once? I don't like the odds Hermione, I think we need him."

Hermione bit down on her bottom lip. "I suppose…"

"He can probably get us into places where only death eaters can get at. He might even have a few suggestions as to where the other horcruxes are, who knows what the Chief Death Eater let slip in front of him? He thought Malfoy was going to get killed by Dumbledore after all, he wouldn't have cared what Malfoy knew, because he knew he was a loyal, and figured he was going to be dead soon enough anyway. Think Hermione…We both know it's the best for the war…"

And Hermione nodded. "I suppose you're right. But that doesn't mean I like it!"

Harry grinned and patted her on the shoulder. "Come on, we need to go explain to Ginny and Malfoy what horcruxes are."

And they headed back into the library.


So what'd you guys think? Did you like it? How about the sneezing laundry machine (that was my favorite part)? Any questions, let me know :) By the way, I have a question for you guys: What did you think of Hermione and Draco's interaction in the beginning of the chapter? Did I get their personalities down okay?

Lots and lots of love,

Science-Fantasy93;)