A/N: Hi! It's been a long time since I've updated. As you know my computer's been out so it's been years and years since the last intsallment. Ha. Not really. Hope you like the new chapter. Review if you want more. Love to all. :D

Disclaimer: No characters used in this story belong to me. All belong to J.K. Rowling.

Draco Lucifer…Granger?

Harry put down the letter from Hermione and looked up at Ron with his eyes wide, dull shock etched across his features.

"I know, right?" Ron muttered. "Tough break for Mione."

"How the hell can that even happen?" Harry asked in bewilderment. "What kind of sick twisted destiny is this?"

"Malfoy…" Ron whispered shaking his head. "Living at Hermione's. Should we invite her to come stay at the Burrow to save her the pain and suffering for the next two months?"

Harry thought about it. Before he had a chance to answer, Mrs. Weasley came into the kitchen with her knitting and sat down at the table.

"Have you heard from Hermione's father yet?" she asked Arthur Weasley who followed closely behind her. Harry and Ron turned their attention to Ron's parents. Arthur didn't reply right away. He merely walked over to the kitchen sink and stared outside, across the lawn. The morning light shone on the small pond in the front yard.

"I talked to him yesterday," Arthur said. "He went to pick up Draco in the morning."

Now Harry and Ron were very interested.

"The poor dear," Mrs. Weasley cooed. "I bet he was just scared to death."

"He was. It was obvious," Arthur said. "Now I never was personally a huge fan of Lucius Malfoy. And he was finally proven to be a Death Eater after all this time. Not the least bit surprising in my opinion but I do feel bad for his son. He was born into that family. He didn't get to choose his fate."

"That was a very nice thing that Frank did for him," Mrs. Weasley went on. "Seeing as he probably wouldn't have wanted to come here."

Ron's eyes widened with a sudden horror that struck Harry as comical, but he choked back his laughter by taking a drink of grape juice. He didn't quite find Malfoy's position funny. Not one bit. But Ron's face… Well… that was a totally different story.

"You were going to bring him here?" Ron practically shrieked.

"We were going to," Arthur said. "But I talked to Mr. Granger. He said he had some room. I didn't really have a chance to give him any of the details. He thought we'd saved a muggle boy. I do hope that they aren't angry. I know how Lucius' boy and Hermione get along."

Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Hermione's a nice girl," she said absently. "I'm sure she'll treat him with the same kindness and hospitality that she'd treat any other person who came to stay with her."

"I don't think so mum," Ron replied. "She hates him just about as much as we do… If not more."

Harry nodded. Mrs. Weasley gave Ron and Harry a disapproving look.

"Well, have you ever thought that maybe you'll have to see him a lot more now that he lives with Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her eyebrows raised.

That same horrified expression graced Ron's freckled features once more.

"Perhaps you'll find something in common with him. I'm sure he needs friends. Good ones. The chances that his old circle will have him now are slim," Arthur said. "I'm sure his friends have parents that are Death Eaters as well."

"I never thought I would hear that come out of your mouth dad," Ron said taken aback. "I thought you hated all Malfoys."

"Technically he's not a Malfoy any more," Mr. Weasley replied. "He's a Granger. And besides, I never really knew the boy personally. Maybe there's more to him then what he shows the world."

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Draco woke early the next morning, his eyes burning, and his throat slightly sore. He rolled over to find the left side of his bed empty. He'd been vaguely aware of Granger next to him for most of the early morning hours. He'd woken once to use the lavatory and when he came back, she was fast asleep, under his covers. He'd stood there for nearly five minutes staring down at her motionless form, trying to comprehend what was really going on. He'd never actually believed that he would be here, under Granger's roof. And he'd definitely never even considered the idea that she'd be cuddled up next to him on a double bed, under his covers… even though they really weren't his covers but either way, it was bloody weird. He never thought he'd be sharing sleeping quarters with her at all. But at that moment, he'd found it was much too early in the morning to really try and figure out what this was. All he knew was that it was happening. And he walked to the foot of bed and undressed until all he was wearing were his boxers and socks. He then lifted the blankets and crawled underneath them, feeling Granger's warmth against his bare skin and he fell asleep with out giving it another thought.

Hermione had sat up at eight o'clock in the morning and looked to her right to find Malfoy lying on his stomach, his face turned away form her facing the window. She could see that he'd been up in the night, because his shirt was now missing. She lifted up the covers very carefully and saw that his pants were gone as well. She quickly let the blankets fall down again and yawned rubbing her eyes. She'd guessed that she'd passed out right along with Malfoy and had never woken up again to leave back into her own room. She didn't quite know what her parents would think of her spending the night in his room but she suspected that they really hadn't noticed. After all it was a Monday morning and they'd both already gone off to work. She stood and left the room quietly and had gone into her own room to get ready for the day.

Draco stood up and waved his wand. The covers of his bed quickly folded themselves together neatly. He then wandered out of his room and down the hall. He took a quick glance into Granger's room and found that it was deserted. Where could she have gotten to? As he mounted the stairs he could vaguely hear a television on in the den.

When he entered the den he found her stretched out on the carpet with several books, charts, parchment, quills, ink, and other school accessories surrounding her in a neat semi circle. Her feet were sticking up in the air and she swung them back and forth through the air, her socked feet twirling in little circles as she did so. She reached for the remote and changed the channel on the television before returning her attention to her schoolwork.

"You don't even take a break during your holiday?" Draco asked. She jumped and spun around to find a half-naked Draco Malfoy leaning against the wall. His body was finely sculpted and she had to admit that Quidditch had been good to him.

"You're very sneaky," she said sitting up. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long," he muttered. "Long enough to see you pull the underwear out of your bum though…" He smirked evilly at her as she turned a bright shade of red. He laughed.

"Yes well… Sometimes knickers ride up," Hermione replied defensively. "It's a perfectly normal thing to occur." Draco chuckled slyly.

"To be honest, I haven't been standing here for even that long, and I didn't see you do that… But it's highly entertaining to learn that a little while ago you were indeed picking at your bum. Sheer dumb luck on my part."

Hermione grabbed a couch cushion and threw it at him. He reached out and caught it in his hands, and tucked it under his arm.

"You forget I'm a seeker don't you?" he asked. She glared at him. "I'm alert at all times."

"And that's why you weren't killed the other night?" Hermione asked.

"Pretty much," Draco replied. "I've got good survival skills and I'm very smart."

"Yes. I'm sure that's what it was," Hermione replied sarcastically. "Are you sure it wasn't just sheer dumb luck?"

"Well if it was, that means if the Death Eaters were to come for me again, I'd be a dead man," Draco drawled, flinging himself on the couch and holding the couch cushion to his bare chest.

"You'd actually be a dead boy," Hermione corrected.

"My, you are feisty this morning," Draco replied. "To what do I owe your horrible manners towards house guests?"

"You're not a guest," Hermione retorted. "You live here now. Remember?"

"Sadly," Draco whispered. Hermione looked up from her book and glared at him. "Watcha' watchin'?" he asked.

"I'm not watching anything," Hermione said. "Want the remote?"

"Remote?" Draco asked.

"Yes. It's like a wand for the television," she muttered throwing it at him. Much to her annoyance, Draco reached up and caught that too. He smirked at her and began pressing the buttons on the small square remote. When he finally figured out what it did, he tossed it to the side with a bored expression melting into his features.

"Have you got anything I could munch on?" he asked.

"In the kitchen," Hermione said pointing to her right. "Anything you might want is in there. And if it's not, you can just conjure it up with that nifty little spell you made up."

"Couldn't I just conjure up a house elf?" Draco pouted. "I haven't once cooked my own breakfast and I don't intend to start now."

Hermione shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"Do you still have that thing about house elves Granger?" Draco huffed.

"Yes," Hermione snapped at him.

"But they like serving spoiled rich wizards like myself!" Draco argued. "It's what they're purpose in life is."

Flashback:

It was Draco Malfoy's fourteenth birthday and he sat on his bed reading the newest installment to his collection of books on dark magic. Draco read…a lot. He read anything and everything that was set in front of him. He hated to admit it but he was helpless to stop. Of course nobody knew this little tid bit on him seeing as cool tough guys weren't supposed to read. They were too busy being macho to pick up a book. Of course, Draco did little else with his time over his summer holiday because there wasn't anything he could do. He never understood it, but Lucius was extremely protective of him. He wasn't the most loving father figure a young man could have, but he watched over his son. Constantly. To the point that it was almost obsessive.

On a rare occasion he was allowed to have friends come stay at the Manor as long as Draco knew where they were at all times. Lucius Malfoy didn't want any of the boys stumbling upon any of his priceless artifacts. Usually it was Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Blaise Zabini that he spent most of his time with. But he tired of them quickly; therefore he didn't really care that they weren't around all the time. Besides, they found him a bit odd for the most part. And they usually teased him that he could rival Granger when it came to how many books he went through in a short period of time. Draco hated when they said things like that to him. It was insulting.

He remembered on one occurrence that he'd taken them into his father's dungeon when Lucius and Narcissa weren't home to show them his father's items. He was just trying to get them to like him. He was twelve years old at the time and hadn't really made many friends at school. He only had the ones he'd had when he went into Hogwarts, which of course were Crabbe and Goyle. Of course his parents arrived home early and caught them in the dungeons. Lucius had been relieved seeing as nothing had been touched and the boys' parents were in the same line of work that he was. Draco, however, was still punished severely for his actions after the four boys were sat down in the living room and given a lecture on how badly this certain situation could've gone wrong.

"Do you know how dangerous some of those objects down there are?" Lucius had bellowed at them. The four of them were sitting straight and still, their eyes wide. "Some of them can kill you just by touching you!"

"You know better than that Draco," Narcissa had added quietly from behind her husband.

"Yes mother," Draco had whispered.

After that he'd been forbidden for the rest of that summer to have any body come over. And to Draco that was just as well. He'd rather be reading.

There came a small sound in front of him and Draco returning from his thoughts, looked up from his book to find a small house elf named Crackers standing in front of him, her large green golf ball eyes staring at him expectantly. He put his book aside and raised his eyebrows at her.

"Can I help you?" he asked shortly.

"Is there anything young Master Malfoy is wanting me to be doing for him?" she asked twiddling the ripped fabric of her pillow case in between her fingers. Crackers was Draco's personal house elf. She took care of him from the moment he entered the world to now.

"Er…No…" Draco said, returning his attention to the many pages of dark magic and spells he could learn.

"Is young Master Malfoy sure?" Crackers asked, her voice rising slightly. Draco cocked his eyebrow at her.

"Yes…" he said slowly.

"Well then what is Crackers supposed to be doing?" she asked him worriedly.

"Nothing I suppose," Draco muttered looking around his room. "Go do whatever you like. There's got to be something."

At this, Crackers looked completely horrified.

"But I is cleaning in my spare time Master Malfoy!" she cried. "What is I going to do if I is not cleaning?!"

Draco sat up, quite alarmed at the small house elf's outburst.

"What on Earth is the matter with you?" he asked. "Just go occupy yourself until I have something for you to do… Here! Pick up that sock," he said, pointing at a wrinkled black sock in the middle of his floor. Crackers promptly burst into tears.

"What is I doing that is displeasing you so much!" she sobbed, great round tears falling from her eyes and plopping loudly on the floor. Now, Draco wasn't very experienced when it came to any kind of woman. Especially when they began to cry. He began to feel very uncomfortable.

"I…what?" Draco asked suddenly extremely confused.

"Why is you dismissing me?" she cried at him.

"I'm not," Draco said, shaking his head, his brow furrowed. "You just wanted to clean so badly! I saw that sock there and I thought it would give you something to do so you would stop bothering me!"

With this comment being made, she sobbed louder and Draco stared at her with his mouth open, completely horrified. That made two of them.

"What in Merlin's beard is going on up here?" Lucius drawled from the doorway. The small house elf threw herself dramatically at Lucius' feet and began to sob inaudibly to him.

"She thinks I've fired her!" Draco replied, staring down at Crackers' shaking shoulders. "She's upset because I don't have anything for her to do. I told her she could have some time for herself to do something that she wanted to do and she just flipped out!"

Lucius promptly looked horrified as well.

"You never tell a house elf that!" he whispered, shocked. "It makes them utterly distraught Draco! It will be hours before she recovers!"

"But there's nothing she can do!" Draco said.

Crackers let out a long pitifully mournful whale.

"There's always something they can do!" Lucius growled. He looked down at Crackers desperately.

"Would you like to massage Draco's back?" he asked her loudly, trying to speak over her crying.

"But my back doesn't hurt," Draco said. Lucius stared at him sternly and he promptly fell silent.

"What do you think about that?" Lucius asked. Crackers sat up, her knees folded underneath her. She wiped her eyes.

"B-but, young Master Malfoy is saying that his b-back is not h-hurting," she wept, her lip trembling. Lucius waved his wand and flung Draco off of his bed, so he landed square on his back, hard. The air was knocked roughly out of his lungs and he laid there, staring up at his ceiling groaning. Crackers gasped, her small hands flying up to her mouth.

"Master Malfoy!" she cried, jumping to her feet and running over to him. "Oh! Is you alright?"

Lucius grinned. Crackers, just like any other woman needed to feel like she herself was needed. She was like a mother hen to his son, apart from Narcissa. Lucius believed his son learned a valuable lesson about women all over the world that day. The mistake was never repeated again. He left, smirking as Crackers made Draco lay down on his bed. She handed him his book and began to knead at his back.

"I is going to make you feel good as new!" she chirped happily. Draco glared after his father, although at the same time he was silently thanking him.

End.

"So you see Granger? They need to be busy. If they aren't it drives them crazy!"

"Whatever Malfoy," Hermione growled under her breath.

"Is this how you treat all the guys you sleep with?" Draco asked, a wide grin gracing his features. Hermione stiffened and put her quill down.

"That isn't funny," she said pointing at him.

"Yes, but you did sleep with me," he sang, moving the cushion off of his lap.

"You slept with me too!" Hermione threw back.

"Not of my own free will," Draco said. "You just came in and latched on to me like a monkey or something. I was already there, unsuspecting and you came in and raped my personal bubble space!"

"Ah, but I just happen to know that you were up in the middle of the night to take your clothes off. And you laid back down with me!" Hermione replied jubilantly.

"I was much too tired to push you off of the bed," Draco said, crossing his arms. "Or else I would have."

Hermione giggled.

"I would have beaten you so severely if you had disturbed my rest," she said, her golden brown eyes narrowing, an evil little grin appearing across her full mouth. "So severely."

"Right," Draco said. "I'll be going into the kitchen now to find something suitable to eat."

"Can you bring me the cookies?" Hermione asked as he left.

"There's cookies?" Draco yelled. She could hear him opening and closing drawers.

"Yes," she said. "In the cupboard to the right of the sink."

"On the top or the bottom?" he asked.

"The bottom," she said, returning to her work.

"Ah ha!" he said triumphantly. He ran back into the room like a small boy who'd just stolen the cookies from the cookie jar and he flopped down next to Hermione on the floor, pushing some of her school items around to make room for himself.

"Now who's the bubble raper?" she asked. He smirked.

"Come on Granger! It's summer. Put that away," he drawled, handing her a double chocolate chip cookie. He conjured up a glass of milk and dipped his in it with a smile.

"So you can't mix your food on a plate but you can dip your cookie in milk?" Hermione asked her eyebrows raised.

"Those are two totally different things Granger," Draco said wiping crumbs off of his mouth. "Cookies were made for milk. It's a known fact. They go together like peanut butter and jelly. Thelma and Louis. Black and white. Pothead and the Weasel. Like you and books. I'm sorry if I think corn and mashed potatoes shouldn't mix. Just like purebloods and muggleborns."

Hermione lowered her double chocolate chip cookie from her mouth and gave him a deep penetrating stare.

"What?" Draco asked, cocking his eyebrow at her.

"I'm a muggleborn and you're a pureblood. And we're mixing," she said quietly. "You haven't burst into flames yet."

Draco put his glass of milk on a coaster on the coffee table that sat behind both of them. He put the remainder of his cookie in his mouth and chewed slowly. He appeared to be thinking quite hard about something.

"Where did your prejudice of muggleborns come from Malfoy?" Hermione asked. Draco leaned over onto his side, propped up on one elbow.

"I don't really know," he muttered after a pause. Hermione leaned forward a bit.

"So why do you hate us so much?" she asked. "If you don't even know why?"

"I guess it was just engraved inside of me. You're not pure, therefore you're not right," Draco replied.

"And that's not right," Hermione snapped.

"My father taught me everything I know," Draco retorted. "And I trust his judgement. Whereas, when it comes to you it doesn't matter. You could be a pureblood, a half-breed, or a mudblood, which you are. And I still think I'd dislike you."

"That makes two of us Malfoy!" Hermione snapped, gathering her books and hurrying out of the room.

"If you're so sensitive about it, why did you ask?" Draco yelled after her. His response was the sound of a door slamming. He rolled his eyes. "Women," he mumbled exasperated.