A/N: Hey! This is a collaborative work of Purple-Passion-Pig, Bohemian Vixen a.k.a Queen of Slytherin, and Scurvy Curvy!  We hope you like it, because we have so much fun writing this!

Purple-Passion-Pig and Bohemian Vixen a.k.a Queen of Slytherin are sisters!

Ages 15 and 21, respectively.

Scurvy Curvy is their cousin, age 13!

Dedicated to the members of the Harry Potter Corner (password?! Mal...FOY!)

To Shadowyukino, who's also our cousin!

To readers of Dark Child: No I haven't abandoned that fic, and I will never do. It's just that I'm having writer's block with that fic, and I don't want to write anything that isn't the best that I could come up with. I hope you understand. I'm working hard to get out of the rut I'm in by asking help from friends and by writing a little bit of chapter 9 every day. I promise that I'll update Dark Child as soon as possible, and most probably it'll be within April—Bohemian Vixen a.ka. Queen of Slytherin (Q.o.S.)

Disclaimer: We own not Harry Potter and the whole lot. JK does. (Stop the torture! Book 5! Book 5! Book 5!)

Poor Little Rich Boy

Chapter I

And so it all began the summer before seventh year…

Draco Malfoy woke up with a start. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, and his breathing came in ragged, shallow gasps. He just had his worst dream. No, not dream. It was a nightmare. He dreamt he was a Muggle. A poor Muggle. So poor he had to beg for food.

Him.

A Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy.

A beggar.

As if being a Muggle wasn't bad enough.

Even though he fully believed that he was too handsome and too aristocratic to be a Muggle, let alone be a Muggle beggar, he still shuddered at the thought. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he stretched his arms over his head and let out a yawn. He threw his black silk blankets aside. He looked around for his bedroom slippers, which he found at the foot of his bedside table. He then headed to his bathroom.

He thrust his hand under the faucet, and a gush of warm water streamed out. He splashed his face with the water, frowning at the dark circles under his eyes as he stared into the mirror.

"Dear, you seem to have woken from the wrong side of the bed this morning," the mirror said. Draco scowled. The mirror usually complimented on his stunning good looks. Damn mirror! He should tell his father to get him a new one. He brushed a stray lock of platinum blond hair from his eyes. He scowled again. It always got in the way. Maybe he should get his hair cut. He reached for his water glass on the sink, filled it with water, and gargled.

Still clad in his black silk pajamas, he headed towards the Malfoy Manor dining room, the black marble cold beneath his feet even through the slippers. After climbing down a few flights of stairs and walking down lots of corridors, he finally reached the dining room. The dining room was so big that Draco secretly wondered if the room had a built-in Sonorus Charm to instantly magnify voices. He wondered about the same thing with the whole Malfoy Manor, for that matter.

Draco found his parents at their long, rectangular table, already seated and eating breakfast. As usual, both Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were in their best robes. His father was wearing heavy black velvet robes with silver lining. His platinum-blond hair—so much like Draco's—was slicked back. His mother was wearing midnight blue silk robes. She was bedecked in diamond jewelry. She was carefully made up and her golden blond hair fell in soft waves around her face. Draco could not help but feel a surge of pride. The Malfoys were a devastatingly beautiful family. He wondered a bit, though, about his parents' attire. They always wear their best robes during meal times, but as of now, they were too made up just for eating meals in the Manor.

"Good morning, Father, Mother," he greeted politely.

Both his mother and father looked up from their meals. "Good morning," his parents automatically replied.

His father, Lucius, raised an eyebrow.

"Draco, why are you not in your best robes? How many times do I have to tell you we are to wear our best robes at meal times! Must you be so hard-headed? You know perfectly well—"

"Lucius. Let him be," his mother, Narcissa said. She turned to Draco. "But next time, do wear your best robes. You know very well the house rules."

'Oh no here we are again,' Draco thought in annoyance.

"Speaking of which, I expect you to spend much, if not all, of your time reading and memorizing the house rules I have set this summer," his father said sternly, gesturing wildly with the bread knife.

"But of course, Father," Draco answered, stepping a little to the side to avoid the bread knife. Inwardly, he mocked his father. 'Oh, please Father, your idea of fun is twisted,' he sarcastically thought.

Satisfied with his answer, Lucius nodded his approval. He resumed to eating his breakfast.

"And how was your sleep?" his mother asked.

"All right, I guess." He decided to keep mum about his dream. He didn't want to upset his father. His father would, simply out, throw a fit.

Draco headed to his usual chair, the one opposite from his mother. He was absolutely ravenous. He reached for the basket of blueberry muffins. Just the aroma of the muffins drove his stomach wild, and they were still hot. He picked out one muffin. It was halfway from entering his mouth when his mother spoke.

"Draco?"

Damn. He could almost taste the muffin.

He willed himself to speak. "Yes, Mother?" he asked as evenly as he could.

Narcissa daintily wiped the corners of her mouth with a monogrammed napkin before answering.

"Your father and I will leave for Argentina today, and we will be gone for the whole summer. Unlike before, you will not be able to come with us, since this trip is a business affair. We will leave you here. I trust that you'd be able to fend for yourself while we're away. Of course, the house elves are present, ready to serve you at your beck and call. I do hope you're mature enough to handle this responsibility."

She took a spoonful of her crab-and-corn soup.

Draco snorted. "Mother, I am sixteen years of age. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

He sighed inwardly. So that was why his parents looked like they were going to a party. In truth, he was sort of looking forward to these trips his parents take during summer. He always had to tag along because no one would look after him. He hadn't minded being a tag-along, because he took the opportunity as traveling experiences. Now that they think he was mature enough to be left alone, it looked like he had to say goodbye to his traveling experiences. Draco reassured himself with the fact that his parents would give him an all-expense paid world tour if he asked, which he swore he would, next summer.

As he was thinking, a realization suddenly hit him. He groaned at the thought of two whole months alone, here in his home. Then he brightened a bit as an idea formed in his head. This was the perfect opportunity to thoroughly explore the Manor. In the sixteen years of his life, he had never really traversed all the seemingly never-ending corridors and countless rooms of their family mansion. He was positive that this mansion had a lot of secrets. Especially his father's study. Of course, he didn't know the password. But he'll find a way. He was a Slytherin. And a Malfoy, after all.

"And Draco?" his father's voice broke his thoughts.

"Yes, Father?" Damn, he was just about to take a bite of the muffin. His father had terrible timing.

"Don't even think about entering my study," his father said, as if he could read Draco's mind.

Wait.

It could be a possibility. His father might be able to read minds.

Oh no! That meant his father had seen his dreams, his hopes, his aspirations, his fears and—gasp!—his sexual fantasies!

Nah. 

That couldn't be, or else his father would've known about that time Mudblood Granger slapped him in third year and hexed him in fourth year and got away with it alive in both occasions.

"I know, Father. I won't even try because I don't know the password," Draco answered, hoping he sounded innocent.

"Oh, I know how your mind works, Draco. Don't treat me like a fool. You're a very stubborn young man," Lucius said.

"Father, you can trust me," Draco replied. Okay, so it was a lie. Well, not really. Half-truth, anyway.

"Yes, of course I can." His father's voice was coated with cultured sarcasm.

'Even his sarcasm is educated,' Draco thought, impressed.

"Lucius, it's about time you trust our son. Be reminded that someday, he will be the one to take over the family business," his mother said kindly, lightly touching Lucius' arm.

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. His parents were never the touchy type. Not in private, anyway. Did that mean they actually love each other? And did that mean that they still made love sometimes?

Eeeeww.

"That was what I'm afraid of," his father said wryly, breaking through Draco's thoughts. He cleared his throat. "Well, we better leave, Narcissa." He pushed his chair back.

Narcissa nodded. "Yes, of course. Let me call for our luggage," she snapped her fingers and called haughtily, "Patty! Pa-tty!"

A house-elf with a belly so big that the pillowcase she was wearing couldn't even begin to cover the entirety of her stomach came scouring in with two traveling bags. Before leaving, she bowed to Narcissa.

"All set, then. Narcissa?" Lucius called.

"Yes, yes. Now, remember what your father and I said. We leave you with everything in order, and when we come back, we expect that it still is. Oh, and do you want me to bring back something for you? Is there anything you want?"

"Thunderbolt!" he answered automatically. He knew his mother couldn't resist him.

"Thunderbolt?" Narcissa repeated, puzzled.

"It's this new broom. Sort of a newer version of Firebolt, if you will. It's really fast and it has this amazing—oh, never mind. Just buy it for me, will you?" he said, putting on his best puppy-dog face.

"Draco—" his father began.

"Father, have you forgotten that Potter has a Firebolt?" Draco added.

Lucius raised his eyebrows. "I'll see what I can do, then."

Ha. He knew it. He got the broom for sure. Draco considered it as good as bought. With that Thunderbolt he can be the Slytherin Quidditch Team Captain! Potter would eat his dust!

"Goodbye now," his mother said, kissing him on his cheek.

His father placed his hand on Draco's shoulder. "We will be so busy we won't be able to Apparate from time to time to check up on you. So when we return, I expect this house to be still standing, understand? Also, not a single thing touched in my study. Until then," Lucius picked up the bags with a Levitation Charm.

His father sure had a weird way of saying goodbye.

"Yes Father, Mother. Goodbye."

And with a pop! they were gone.

Then he remembered the blueberry muffin, still in his hand. He sighed and ate in silence.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After breakfast, Draco immersed himself in a long, hot bubble bath in the Jacuzzi in his bathroom. He had a hard time deciding if he should use the Jacuzzi in his own bathroom or the pool in the family sauna on the top floor of their Manor. In the end, he decided to use the one in his bathroom because he didn't want Pinky, one of their many house-elves, to find out he was going to take a bath or else she would find excuses to bring him candles, shampoos, towels, perfumed oils just to take a glimpse of him in the tub. Fortunately, her tactics always failed. Draco always locked the door, and he made sure that his private parts were always covered in bubbles just to be on the safe side.

He remembered the time his mother had just about enough of Pinky that Narcissa, deciding to let go of the elf, would throw every article of clothing there was at Pinky. Amazingly, Pinky was always careful to avoid catching them. The elf didn't want to leave the Manor. But through the years, Pinky had become Narcissa's favorite house-elf. After all, Pinky's determination to stay was a sign of unwavering loyalty, even though she was annoying at most times. Once his mother had grown fond of Pinky, Narcissa would always fix Pinky up and practice beauty spells on her. Draco chuckled at the memories of his mother's attempts with beauty spells. More often than not, Pinky would always end up looking like a fright.

He toweled himself dry and tied his bathrobe loosely.  As usual, his bathrobe was of black silk. His hair still wet, he decided to walk around the Manor. Since his parents were gone, there would be no one to scold him about his attire.

Draco stepped out in the hallway, his bedroom slippers sinking in the thick bottle-green Persian carpet. He reached the spiral staircase and stepped on the landing. "Salbakuta!" he muttered, and it rose upward in circles.

Then it stopped. Draco stepped out and looked around.

At last.

He had reached the second to the last floor, which was covered in thick bottle-green Persian carpeting, as with every hallway floor in the Manor. He leisurely walked down the hallway, and he stopped in front of the sixth door. This was his father's study. It was a fascinating door, made of pure, solid platinum. On the center of the door was the Malfoy Crest. The crest was a huge and intricate letter M bounded by carvings of serpents with emeralds as eyes.

He gingerly stroked the largest serpent. Its emerald eyes sparkled. "Passssssssssword?" it hissed.

Oh, bloody hell! He didn't know the password.

'Now, how in the world am I gonna get that bloody password?' Draco thought.

Just then, Pinky walked by. For once, Draco saw the advantage of having Pinky constantly tailing behind him. She gasped when she saw Draco, clad only in his robes.

"Oh, Master Draco! What is you doing, walking around in your robes? You will be catching your handsome self a very bad cold! Pinky is not letting that happen! Master Draco must go changing! Is Master Draco wanting Pinky to accompany you to your room?" she said in her very high-pitched voice, her wide and round violet eyes growing even wider and hopeful.

"No need, Pinky. Calm down. I was just wondering, aren't you the one assigned to clean my father's study?" Draco asked in what he hoped was a casual tone. A plan was taking shape in his head. 'Now, aren't I a truly cunning Slytherin?' he thought smugly.

"Yes, yes, as usual Pinky's Master Draco is right! Pinky is very happy Master Draco is noticing what Pinky cleans!" she said in one breath. She flushed beet red.

"Uh...right. So, does that mean you know the password?" Draco asked hopefully.

"Yes, my handsome Master!"

Draco cringed. He knew it was true, but hearing it from an elf gave him the creeps. Draco preferred hearing it from gorgeous girls, thank you very much.

"So…how about telling me?" he asked, giving Pinky his most dazzling smile.

Pinky's eyes grew frightened. "Oh…Master Lucius is telling Pinky never, ever tells Master Draco the password or else….Master will set Pinky free!" She broke into sobs that violently racked her shoulders.

Draco had to smile. Pinky was rather attached to the Malfoys in general, and he knew it was torture for her to even think about leaving them. And Pinky was rather attached to him, Draco Malfoy, in particular. Draco had to give the elf credit. She had very good taste.

"Hey. Who says he has to know? Tell you what. You tell me what I want to know, and I'll….I'll let you come in the bathroom with the shampoo, soaps and all that while I'm in the tub. "

Hey. He was desperate.

But of course, as usual, he'd make sure there would be plenty of bubbles to cover his body.

Pinky blushed like mad. Draco didn't know that she could get any redder. "Oh…Master Draco! You is so kind!" Pinky gushed.

"Yes, well, that's me. So what's the password?"

Pinky lowered her voice into a conspiratorial tone. "Narcissa!" she whispered.

"Narcissa? How sweet," Draco said sarcastically. "Thank you, Pinky," he continued. He then turned his back to the elf and faced the door.

"Master! Master! When is you taking a bath?" Pinky said from behind him.

Oh. Right.

"You see, I have already taken a bath. I'll just call for you the next time I'll be bathing," he answered.

"Yes, Master Dracohhh!" Pinky said excitedly and bowed before leaving him.

Did she just call him Dracohhh?

He groaned.

'What have I gotten myself into?' Draco thought.

Then he remembered his father's study. All of a sudden, he was convinced it was worth it.

Once more, he stroked the serpent. "Passssssssssword?"

"Narcissa."

The serpent's emerald eyes blinked twice, and then the door opened with not so much as a creak.

Draco stepped in slowly. The door closed behind him as he stood in the middle of the room. He looked around. It looked like a typical study—as typical as a Malfoy could get, of course. The floor was not covered with carpeting, so Draco could see how shiny the black marble floor was. All walls of the room were lined with book-filled bookshelves, which were as tall as the walls. At the center was a wide mahogany desk with intricate carvings of serpents. Draco appraised the table with his eyes, and he concluded that it looked like an expensive antique furniture. There was also a fireplace and a black couch. A crystal chandelier hung above the room. To the left was a small oak door.

He walked towards the door, turning the brass knob, hoping to see something interesting. He frowned when he saw that it was just a bathroom, with the typical Jacuzzi and showers inside.

He steeped outside the bathroom and closed its door. He looked around the study again. He wondered why his father didn't want him here. What was his father hiding? Nothing looked like out of the ordinary.

He walked up to the bookshelf along one wall. He scanned the titles for any interesting Dark Arts book. Suddenly, a book caught his attention.

Illustrated Magical Kama Sutra

Draco's eyes widened. Now, things were looking up! If Draco was lucky, he could find some PlayWizard™ magazines tucked somewhere between the books. But first, the Kama Sutra book. His father might be some sort of a sex god, and Draco could get a few pointers himself to be one ('not that I'm not already one,' thought Draco). He reached for the book, when suddenly he felt as if he was being sucked down. He felt his insides lurch. He felt dizzy with each passing second. 'Something about that muffin must have made me sick,' Draco thought as he fought the urge to throw up. He closed his eyes. His body felt heavy, and he was sure that he would faint and fall when he heard…

Beep beep! Honk honk!

Draco felt normal again. The spinning stopped, and the world stood still. His eyes flew open.

Did he say he felt normal? He took that back.

Where was he? What was going on?

He looked around. He gasped. There were tall buildings all around, but not like the one he was used to seeing. No, these buildings were tall and thin, and clustered.

Where was he? Once more, he looked around. He was standing on the center of a road, but not the kind of road he was used to. These roads had white broken lines on it, and things on wheels were whizzing past him. He couldn't see well what those things on wheels were because they passed him in a blur of color. He decided to walk to the other side. Then he heard people shouting.

Shouting at him.

"Gerroff the road, arsehole!"

"Idiot! Get your bloody arse off the road!"

"Bloody git! Get the hell outta here! Do you wanna die?!"

"Hey, Loony! Move your arse out of the road!"

"F—k you, man! Are you insane?"

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

Draco raised his chin proudly. How dare those people order him around and insult him! He was a Malfoy. He could walk wherever and whenever he chose to do so.

He was about to reach the edge of the road when suddenly…

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

One of those things on wheels--which, he now realized, looked like a car–-was heading straight at him! He didn't know what to do. He had no wand. Instinctively, he raised his hands as if to shield his face. Just as it was going to hit him, it stopped.

Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech!

Draco winced a bit at the sound. He lowered his hands, and saw a red car just inches away from his body. His confusion grew. Didn't cars fly? He knew they did. He remembered that in his second year, the stupid braggarts Potty and Weasel arrived at Hogwarts by car. A flying car.

But in this strange place, cars were on the ground.

The door of the car that nearly ran over him opened. A girl who looked about his age wearing very short white shorts and a tight pink halter top, her chestnut brown hair artfully tousled, stepped out.  Dark sunglasses covered her eyes. The girl was wearing Muggle clothes! Draco knew about Muggle clothing, as most of his schoolmates wear an assortment of Muggle clothes during weekends.

Was he in the Muggle world? But that couldn't be, since he just came from the Malfoy Manor. This must be some other wizarding place where he had never been before.

Draco's thoughts strayed from wondering where he was to the girl in front of him. He couldn't help but stare at the girl's tanned long legs like a drunken sailor. He looked up, but that was a wrong move. He now couldn't help but stare at her full breasts. But her sudden outburst distracted him.

"What do you think you're doing, mister? Walking around the middle of the road like that?" she yelled, steam practically escaping from her ears. Her hands were on her hips, and she stood there, frowning angrily.

"I will walk wherever I want!" Draco spouted back. Sexy or not, this girl had no right to shout at him like that! How dare her! "And what did that car do that noise for? That almost got me deaf!" he said accusingly. Oh, his father would know about this. Draco would make sure of that.

"I was just warning you to get off the road, to save you from getting hit!" she cried out. The girl raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. "You got some attitude for someone wearing only a bathrobe!"

Oh.

He completely forgot he was only wearing a bathrobe! And he wasn't wearing anything underneath!

Hey. If you got it, flaunt it.

"Ex-cuuuse me. Expensive silk bathrobe," he drawled in his haughtiest voice.

To Draco's astonishment, the girl gasped. He expected a snappy comeback. Tut tut, this girl was no challenge.

"What the—" the girl sputtered in utter disbelief. Then her nose scrunched up. "I know only one person who's as snobby as you are! And—he's got blond hair! Just like you! And pale skin! Just like your skin!" She whipped her sunglasses off her face. "And pointed face! And gray eyes! Just like you!" she exclaimed.

Draco was stunned. Who was this girl?

But what she said next stunned him even more.

"Malfoy?!"

Draco felt his jaw drop. Why did this girl know him? He knew his family was famous and all, but this was a strange place. It looked nothing like where he came from. But then again, the Malfoys were well-known even among international wizarding community, and Draco was convinced that he was just in another wizarding place at the moment.

Or maybe he was that gorgeous, that was why he was known more than he ever imagined. Well, that would be no problem with Draco, as this girl was gorgeous herself. Gorgeous people got to stick together to propagate their kind.

He looked closely at the girl. Something about her bright brown eyes was strangely very familiar, though. Then it struck him.  This brown-haired girl was…

"Mudblood Granger?!"

End of Chapter I

To be continued…

A/N: Was that enough to get your attention? :D Did we pique your interest? Please let us know. Reviews of all sorts will be appreciated. :D

By the way, when Draco activated the spiral staircase, it wasn't a spell (students aren't allowed to use magic during summer). It was simply something like a password.