AN: As always thanks to the reviewers. You guys spur me on and remind me to update.

Chapter 14- Harry At Their Mercy

Hermione packed her bags and left for Romania the next day, looking a bit green around the gills and anxious.

Harry felt a bit that way too and not just because he felt it was likely that he was about to experience some extreme turbulence in best-friend-land but also because he had just that morning been informed by the work-men that it would take a couple of months to get Grimmauld place back to safe and liveable standard. In fact, it had gotten him thinking about making some long overdue renovations. That would mean up to 6 months or more out of the house but it seemed like the right time to do it. Things were going well with he and Ginny and once she was more settled into her Quidditch career well... let's just say that Harry would be asking for her input on the renovations.

So why did this make him anxious?

He was going to be stuck in the Den of Maleficience for an entire weekend without Hermione's protection. Worse, he would have to be nice to the Slytherins if he wanted to keep the patch of Hermione's bedroom floor that he was currently calling his own. He needed that floor space; he had nowhere else to go. He doubted Molly would be too happy about his staying at the Burrow while Ginny was living there- they were unmarried and Molly was a bit traditional in that way. He'd stayed at the twins for one night after a bender once and woken up blue. Also, he was enjoying having Hermione back in his life every day after such a long, tension filled period where they hadn't been seeing much of each other.

Still, the weekend would be an anxious time. Hermione had thoroughly warned them all to play nice or face her wrath. Harry could only hope the Slytherin's would take her warning as seriously as he intended to.

On this he mused as he listened at the bedroom door. There was no sign of movement in the kitchen- the coast was clear.

Employing his Auror stealth training, he crept down the hall, determined not to make the hostiles aware of his presence.

He made it to the living-area without detection and then almost smacked himself in the head for forgetting that he owned an invisibility cloak. Well, too late.

He crept into the kitchen and ever so quietly went about fixing himself some lunch.

"Potter!" a familiar whiny voice accused.

"Malfoy," Harry returned with a resigned sigh.

"Bugger off already," Malfoy said advancing on Harry with his arms crossed over his chest and a menacing scowl in place on his face. It was rather less intimidating than he'd remembered it being at school. Quite possibly because Crabbe and Goyle were noticeably absent from Malfoy's flanks.

"We don't want you here," Malfoy continued.

"Hermione does," Harry pointed out; rinsing a buttery knife he'd employed to make himself a sandwich.

"She's not here, is she?" Malfoy retorted, looking bitter.

Harry knew that Malfoy was not happy that Hermione was going all the way to Romania to sort things out with Ron. He rather suspected that Malfoy privately wished that Hermione would forget about Ron altogether and develop a romantic inclination towards ferrets.

He snorted at the thought, choking a little bit on his tuna sandwich.

Malfoy's sneer of disdain morphed into a sneer of disgust.

"I thought you had a girlfriend, or did the Weaslette dump you and move on to the next victim?"

Harry's free hand tightened into a fist and itched to be planted in Malfoy's face.

"She's at Quidditch camp actually, training for the Harpies," he ground out, trying to restrain his temper. It wouldn't do to break the nose of one of Hermione's favourite pets. She'd look upon it as she would if someone were to pull Crookshanks tale in all probability. Harry knew better than to pull Crookshanks tale.

"Easy Potter," Malfoy warned unnecessarily, "You don't want Hermione to flay us alive, do you? I simply was wondering why you persist in mooching off of us all."

Harry scoffed, "I'm paying a fifth of the rent and I don't even have my own room. You're better off while I'm here."

Draco rolled his eyes, "I'd prefer you to be gone."

"Too bad," Harry retorted, "because I'm staying."

Harry could see that Malfoy was about to throw some inane insult his way but he was interrupted by the entrance of Zabini.

"Draco," Zabini greeted, he ignored Harry's presence all together.

Harry didn't really know how to take Zabini. He was less openly hostile than Malfoy which made him harder for Harry to interact with. At least with Draco he could casually trade insults. Zabini was a git, but a very smart git. He was lazy, Hermione said that was why he had never excelled as she had at school but she also said that if he wanted to, he could have given her a run for her money. That frightened Harry and put him constantly on edge while Zabini was around. In his books, he was the unknown- capable of anything whereas Malfoy was safe and predictable.

"I was just telling Potter that he should leave," Draco informed.

"Quite," Zabini replied, stumbling to his beanbag after grabbing an apple from the kitchen counter, "If he won't go voluntarily, perhaps we should make him Draco."

Harry laughed; the others soon silenced him with an identical look.

"How?" Draco asked quite seriously.

"I've noticed that Potter is not very fond of Pansy..." Blaise said.

"And Pansy seems to be overly fond of Potter..." Draco schemed.

"In fact," Blaise continued, "I think it's fair to say that Pansy wouldn't mind eating Potter alive."

"That's right, disgusting as it is," Draco replied.

"Well, she's your best friend. Perhaps we should invite her around more often, Hermione cannot possibly object."

"You wouldn't!" Harry warned.

Blaise yawned and then took a large bite out of his apple and crunched it noisily, "I think you know we would."

"...unless," Malfoy finished.

"Unless what?" Harry wanted to know, gut sinking.

Malfoy and Zabini exchanged devious glances.

"Do you have a muggle credit card?" Draco wanted to know, his gray eyes brightened with the traditional Slytherin exercise that was black-mail.

"Why?" Harry asked stonily.

"We're not even asking for much," Blaise explained, "just your credit card details for a little online shopping we want to do. We'll let you put the details in yourself and we'll even pay you what we owe you in Galleons."

"I don't get it," Harry stated slowly. He tried to wrap his head first around the fact that the Slytherins were apparently more computer literate than he was and secondly around the whole black mail thing to keep Parkinson out of his face.

"Hermione has a credit card, why didn't you just ask her?" Harry wanted to know.

The snake twins shared another significant glance, "Hermione doesn't exactly approve of our purchase."

Bugger, he should have known.

"No. Effing. Way," he announced.

"Draco, go get Thaddeus. Let's ask Pansy to dinner, shall we?"

Harry groaned in exasperation. If he saw Parkinson again who knows what he would do? Not him, but he was sure it wouldn't be good.

"Fine!" he said, "but if you're trying to buy something to eradicate all Weasly's from the planet I'd like to remind you that I'm an Auror and that we don't take well to homicide, especially of the genocide variety."

Draco actually chuckled, "I'm far more likely to try to eradicate all Potter's from the Universe," he paused looking pensive and a little haunted and then shuddered, "or perhaps all Welsh people."

The last thing Harry was going to do was ask why.