A/N- I really have nothing to say i just felt like writing. OH YEAH, my space bar isn't working too well and neither is my shift, I'm so sorry if it turns out with some mistakes.

Chapter 7- I'm back in order now, this is the right chapter



Hermione sat down by herself at the end of
the table. It was pretty lonely being in this huge room with no one else with her. She had put Draco's food in the microwave she had sent over. She sent a lot over to help her during the night while Draco was asleep.

She tried to make this house look and feel a little bit more like home to her. It was hard but if she had to spend all the rest of her summer here, she needed some very specific things. Like her diary, a stuffed animal she'd had since she was born, a nice blanket, and a radio, stuff like that.

Hermione stabbed her eggs angrily. 'What is wrong with that selfish little brat? Does he not know that I could have left him to cook his own food? I can't wait to see that smug little look on his face fall straight off when he finds out that I sent all of the house elves to a nice little garage far back in the back until the day that the Malfoy's return.'

That was a thought to think about. How would the 'fabulous Master Malfoy' live a month and a half with out a house elf or two doing all his work. Hermione laughed.

Meanwhile, upstairs....

Draco closed the door angrily. He fell softly onto his bed and smiled. Phase one was in effect. The first one was to be as rude and controlling as possible.

Of course he had noticed all the house elves were gone, was she stupid? Did she not know that he knew his house and life in it well enough to know when something was different.

Not only had a house elf set a letter from his parents right on his pillow, folded and put away all his clothes and towels, cleaned his shoes AND arranged his closet with out him telling it to, late last night, Draco was woken up by a raspy voice telling him good night and good bye.

Yup, he knew they were gone and he knew were they were. They were put in to only place they could be, in his old garage he used to play in. He had all his Quidditch supplies in there, all his new, at the time, brooms. He hadn't been there for ages.

'Speaking of,' he thought, 'I know just where I'LL go. I have to get away from her and her cleaning. I need to think. And think hard.'

Draco hopped off of his bed and grabbed a duffle bag. He threw in a blanket, a few notebooks and quills, his letter, some extra food he had and a book. He folded the little rope ladder out his window and climbed down.

He knew Hermione was still in the dining room so he could definatly get an easy route to where he was going. He took a long path into the woods. He walked for about five to ten minutes until he got to a huge tree with a clubhouse built in.

This is where he used to go when he was a kid, when his parents were always fighting. He had everything he ever wanted in there, his dad and mother had made sure he did. He said a little spell and a broom flew down, picked his up and flew back into the treehouse.

Draco hadn't been here for a years but everything was the way that he remembered it. There was a table, chairs, cabinets, stuff like a regular house. He pulled out a notebook and a quill and started writing.

"Hey!"

Draco looked up. There stood Hermione.