Ve meet again Mister Bond. *cough* I mean.. sorry I've been away, the hols haven't exactly been as calm and relaxing as I would have hoped. But I like to think of this as an opportunity for me to reflect on where this story is going and you to reflect on what you've read and I think we've all reached a very special place. In other words, I've been sweating bullets about where this story is going to be going and you've totally forgotten about it until bam! it shows up on the top of the page like that fourth cousin twice removed trying to cash in on the twenty bucks you inherited from Uncle Larry. What can I say? I get a bit weird around six am… or have I already said that? I tend to repeat myself a lot.

Time for the 'Let's Pretend Game'! Okay boys and goils this is where we pretend that the author of this story wrote an international best seller while in middle school and is currently posting a continuation of her work here on ff.net! Wasn't that fun? Now that we've taken that trip down fantasy aisle five, I'd like to bring us all test dummy crashing back to reality by pointing out I actually don't own Harry Potter nor am I making any money off of this story. However I do think I have some of the longest disclaimers around. I'm sure that counts for something.

Chapter 3 – Where I realize I really am not creative enough to come up with chapter titles since I can't even come up with titles for my journal

Two days later found Hermione enjoying breakfast in the kitchen of her new apartment. Her new apartment in a building that Draco Malfoy owned.

At that moment one of the doors in the kitchen swung open and the blond devil himself stormed in like some fallen angel storming heaven's gates.

She knew by now he was only looking for coffee.

'My new apartment, in a Malfoy building, which just happens to be adjoined to Malfoy's own apartment. If it weren't for the fact that this allows me more access to The Ferret Demon From Hell than I would normally have, I would be trying to find a decent rabid chihuahua to gag on.'

Unfortunately, it did have a rather upsetting side effect on Hermione's appetite at breakfast. Something about seeing Malfoy that early in the day and that close up didn't leave much room for kippers.

Hermione observed Draco surreptitiously as he poured himself a half a mug of coffee and drank it black.

'At least he remembered the mug this time,' Hermione snorted to herself. The morning before Draco had forgotten that he was sharing a kitchen with someone else and was pouring black coffee down his throat directly from the pot when he realized he had an audience. It had required all of Hermione's will power not to redecorate the kitchen with a laugh-induced spray of half-chewed eggs after the look of horror and embarrassment on Draco's face.

After draining the half-mug of joe, Draco fixed himself another full mug with two sugars, made some toast and sat down at the table with Hermione and the newspaper.

Hermione decided, or rather "'Herms' Colin" decided, that for the sake of getting to know her neighbor/kitchen-mate better she would have to make the first move.

"Not a morning person, Mr. Malfoy?" So it wasn't Shakespeare, but it wasn't as if she could just say 'So what do the Death Eaters have planned for today? Are you coming back for lunch or will torturing muggles keep you busy until teatime?'

"A rather astute observation Miss Colin," a rather snarky Draco answered from behind the business section.

Hermione chose to ignore the rather dismissive tone of his reply, and plunged ever onward into conversation. Of course, it was a small bonus that she realized she was probably irritating his, undoubtedly freshly pressed, pants off.

"Oh no, 'Miss Colin' is a 63 year-old spinster that lives next door with fourteen cats. Call me Herms."

Draco slowly lowered the paper with an odd look of disgust and worry on his normally guarded face.

"Is that your, er, real name?"

"No." Draco looked visibly relieved. "It's Hermia."

Draco once again looked like he had been holding a vomiting niffler.

"Do you have a problem with my name, Mr. Malfoy?"

A look of hesitance flashed across Draco's face, before he seemed to remember that the world was his goblet of pumpkin juice.

"There was a girl at Hogwarts who was called either Herms or Herm by her friends. We were competitors of sorts, battling over top marks and all that." Satisfied with his explanation, Draco resumed reading the paper and sipping his coffee.

"I'm sure the fact that she slapped you silly also had nothing to do with it."

Hermione watched on with a bemused expression on her face as dark, sodden splotch appeared in the middle of the front page of Draco's newspaper. She did have to give him credit though; he managed to exude his normal composure as he lowered the stained newsprint, despite indications that he had been seriously surprised. Draco considered her for a moment before his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice as hard as steel and just as accusing.

Hermione let out a peal of laughter before she responded to him. "You think I'm Granger!" Draco just scowled as Hermione attempted to regain composure.

"Hannah Abbot is a relation of mine, " she stated as she wiped tears from her eyes, "there was a huge family shin-dig that summer and she considered it an exciting bit of gossip."

Hermione kept giggling to herself for a few more moments as Malfoy glared at her.

"It wasn't that funny."

Hermione sobered up immediately. "You're right Mr. Malfoy. It's not nice to make fun of a man who seems to think one of his grade school nemeses is now sharing an apartment with him just to make his life a living hell." 'No, it takes more than that to make me stoop to living with you, though I must admit it is proving to be entertaining.'

"It's not nice to make fun of an old man," Draco sniffed, "you never know when it could give us a heart attack, and then you'd be stuck with a dead body for a next door neighbor."

Hermione nearly fell out of her chair when she realized that Draco was joking with her. 'The bloody git has a sense of humor! That's wrong on so many levels! Minions of evil are supposed to be incapable of pedestrian humor. Next thing you know Ron's going to floo me so we can a discussion about translinear variables in Arithmancy.'

"Mr. Malfoy was that a joke?"

"Only if you call me Draco."

When undergoing both Auror and Patroni training you are taught to learn how to react to unexpected situations. From how to deal with someone pulling a knife on you in a dark alley to how to react naturally when the weirdo transvestite murder suspect invites you back to his place for a game of naked Twister. But this was something that Hermione thought needed a whole class in and of itself: Draco Malfoy being human.

After breakfast, Hermione returned to her rooms, still puzzling over Draco's seemingly normalcy.

'Must be a ruse,' she pondered as she began warding her Floo, 'probably how he lures women into his pit.'

She dropped all thoughts of Draco as she finished securing her Floo, grabbed some powder off the box on the mantle, and threw the ash-like substance into the flames as she called out "Dex HG."

Almost instantly, a boisterous redhead popped into the green flames.

"Oi love! How are things going Chez Ferret? Do we need to send over some flea powder? Or maybe some of our new 'Flora Fudge?' I'm sure you'd rather share a kitchen with a potted plant than that git."

"Oh Fred, you always make me laugh," Hermione managed to get out while fighting down bouts of the giggles.

"That's what we're here for!" exclaimed one half of the infamous Weasley duo.

While most people only focused on the end result of Fred and George's practical jokes, the Dextrians had seen the brilliance that went into the execution of their pranks. The harmless chocolate that made a person sprout feathers, the snack box that would make you 'conviently' sick; the Dextrians saw the potential of having the twin's amongst their numbers. And to the flame-haired boys credit, many Patroni and Aurors were outfitted with devices created by them, and many a criminal had been apprehended with the aid of said devices.

They also happened to be Hermione's partners. They were her connection with headquarters, and if she got herself into a sticky situation or needed back up and didn't have time to get other Patroni, they would come to her aid.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that I succeeded in securing the Floo. Are you two going to remain in the same location or will you find some new 'haunts?'"

"Nah, we'll stay here as long as we're in the States. We have a pretty tight cover story since we are actually mixing business with, well, business." The brothers owned and ran Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, which they often used as their excuse when away on Dextrain business.

"I'm sure you can find yourself some pleasure to throw into the mix, eh Fred?" Hermione suggested with a smirk.

"Are you implying something my dear, sweet Hermia?" Fred retorted while wiggling his eyebrows. "But really, I can't seem to find a decent girl that's attracted to me these days! The last girl that seemed interested ended up going home with one-eyed warlock wearing a leather corset. Seeing that man alone has scarred me for life, the fact that the girl I was trying to get together with went home with him has made me doubt my abilities with the fairer sex so much that I'm considering becoming a man of the cloth!"

"Fred," Hermione deadpanned, "the church was a key player in the killing of witches and wizards. I somehow doubt they'd allow you to become a priest."

"I'm sure they would make an exception once I told them my heartbreaking story." he sniffed.

Hermione had opened her mouth to respond when Fred's head had whipped out of the green flames. He was back a few seconds later with a rueful grin on his face.

"Sorry love, but we're going to have to finish this at another time. We've been working on a taffy that makes you rather bouncy and George seems to have gotten stuck in the ceiling."

"You boys are going to kill yourselves with the way you're going. It's just too bad Trelawny isn't here to predict when and how you're going to do it."

"Ha, maybe we'll go ask her, just for the entertainment value. Anyway, be safe, and you know where to find us."

"I will, and remember, you are a wizard, you have a wand, you do not need to consume whatever taffy George ate to go try and get him down."

Fred paused for a moment before realization passed across his face. "Oi! I do believe you're right. What would I do without you Herms?"

"Get your head stuck right next to George's." And with that Hermione broke the connection.

She sat down on the sofa, gazing absentmindedly into the fire, as she thought about what Fred had told her. Thinking about the boy's horrible luck with women reminded her of Draco. 'I wonder if he has problems with women. Not like he'd ever tell me.'

Hermione's eyes grew wide with sudden inspiration.

She needed an in with Draco Malfoy and she had just found her key to the supposed Prince of the Death Eaters.

She smiled as she sat back; this was going to be like taking candy from a flobberworm, though really, why would someone give a flobberworm candy in the first place?