I 'm not smart enough to come up with a idea like Harry Potter on my own
*****
Hermione had just witnessed the worse event in her life. Nothing could prepare her for this SOB moment.
***
Flashback**
"Finch and Zambini", McGonagall blandly stated as she waited for the two other students reluctantly had over their wands. Some people were amused at what some would do to keep their wands, the first students up would not give up their wand for nothing, and another cursed her and said she would rather jump off a bridge.
Then it happened, the nightmare, McGonagall read off the list, "Granger and Malfoy", she suddenly felt light headed and sick.
"What", She calmly said, of course there was a problem, maybe she was going deaf, "Is there a mistake?".
"No", McGonagall gave Hermione a 'I'm Sorry' look, "not at all".
Hermione stayed in the room long enough to hear McGonagall say Parkinson and Weasey.
***
Now her and Malfoy were walking to the home that they were assigned. She could faintly here Malfoy cursing McGonagall, Dumbledore, herself, the world, and surprisingly Voldemort.
"What are you babbling about asshole", Hermione had a surprising shock of annoyance, "at least you don't have to live with you", she rolled her eyes at her lame comment, "If Voldemort sends us to hell at least you deserve to go there".
"Fuck off Granger", he almost barked, "This is hell to me".
They didn't say anything while they walked into the house, and didn't comment on the nicely furnished and unique house.
*****
Hermione walked up the stairs in to a large burgundy room with a Gryffindor symbol on the door.
She gasped loudly at the site, the gold covers were made out of material that looked like silk and felt like butter. The four poster bed had a canopy covering it in a dark burgundy with gold trim. There was a desk with every thing a person needs to write a letter or even a book with all the paper hampered in the desk. On the ceiling there was a black chandelier with actual light bulbs. She apprised the antique furniture and smiled, she could be in hell but she wasn't living like it.
*****
Draco could live in a manor and get what ever he wants, but never has he had the freedom to do whatever he wants with his personal belongings. In his new room (think hermione's room but black, sliver, and green) Draco settled almost tolerably. The Mudblood was the only problem. But with his father, one of the top death eaters, he could not afford to offend Granger and get in trouble. His father told him to play along with any of the games Dumbledor throws at him, and he even told him to consider getting along with mudbloods so Draco will surprise people when he helps carry out Voldemorts plan.
Draco fell on to the butter like covers, "Damn, fuck, shitface motherfucking bastered", he whispered trying to relieve the stress before he went to try to sort shit out with Granger, which he thought he could defiantly try to get along with.