In Another World, Under another sky

Disclaimer: Srehtorb Renraw dna Gnilwor .K.J ot gnoleb yeht, enim t'nera dedulcni sretcarahc lla dna Rrttop Yrrah

Acknowledgement: The title of this fic was taken from a song by the name "Another world" from the same named album by the guitarist of the prestigious band, "Queen" it's part of his solo work. Have a listen to the album, if you get a chance… I thought it a rather fitting title…

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This whole ordeal was decidedly unpleasant, Hermione decided, as she watched the pseudo-Ron from her comfy worn arm chair. She rested her chin in her folded arms, lips pursed speculatively. Even though Draco put the veneer of arrogant disgust on, and kept his attitude of superiority, the truth was obvious. He was scared.
Hermione knew it was a little perverse, but she was enjoying his suffering. Sure, it didn't make up for his presence, but she counted her blessing where she found them.

Actually, it was that fear that had her staring intently at him. Over the past hour or so, an idea had formed in her mind. It was cruel, possibly a little dangerous, and all together rather heartless, but an idea all the same. People, when thrown into a situation they're totally not prepared for tended to freeze up, their normal, day to day "mask" they wore would fall clattering to the floor, leaving the real person behind it exposed as they frantically tried to both pick it up and defend themselves.

Draco had always swaggered around, using his overwhelming arrogance and slimy haughtiness as a sort of protective layer. As she had noted before, that veneer had slipped and the idea began to grow… maybe this was a chance to know what Malfoy was really like… She grinned maliciously, each and every fault- she'd know where they all were… she'd know his every weakness, if she played this right, of course. But she was a bright girl, and Draco, in his tense state, was practically handing her the answers. Revenge loomed large in her mind, and she basked happily in its glow

Draco was nervous… He hated it here, and wished more then anything to be back in his nice CLEAN manor. The Weasly house reeked of a domesticity he was totally unprepared for. The dishes were being scrubbed by a very industrious scrubbing brush. He'd never seen dishes washed before… There were clothes piles on the floor where Mrs. Weasly had sorted them which cried out if anyone stood on them by mistake. His clothes were always put away for him. There was clutter and dust everywhere, where the manor was immaculate. He hated it here…

He was, however, more then a little apprehensive about what his father would think about the whole affair. He idolized his father, and the idea of him being disappointed pained him greatly… He'd probably get a well deserved thrashing- it was, after all, partly his fault… he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully… maybe he'd get off with a good telling off instead. There was always room for hope. He thought hard… if he talked fast enough, he might even be able to make it look like Weasly's fault. That'd be perfect…  His father would bring the heavy hand of the ministry down on this scummy little muggle worshipping family, Potter, Granger and all…

And what WAS she looking at? His eyes met hers, full of hate. She returned the daggered look, How DARE she? Stupid mudblood… if he wasn't surrounded by Weasly's he'd say something. He looked away irritably

Hermione grinned to herself. She'd stared him down. She planned to watch the little rich boy rather carefully through this ordeal. Already his eyes flickered in thought, darting from one thing to another about the house; she was sorely tempted to shout "BOO!" just to see him jump a mile, but she knew Mrs. Weasly would be disappointed.

Arthur Weasly came in looking a little harried and stressed. Draco suppressed a grin at the sight.

"No luck I'm afraid…" he announced to the room in general. The smirk that was hovering on the edge of Draco's lips died "Mr. Malfoy won't see me; I don't even think the fellow answering the summons is even passing word on at all…"
"That'd be Kesley." Draco said derisively. Kesley was one of their domestics; he served as a sort of butler secretary cross. After Draco got out of this horrid, gangly, freckly body, Kesley would be looking for another job…

"I didn't catch the name." The head Weasly said, flopping into a chair. "I'll try again later, if I still can't get hold of him, I might have to go to the ministry. Would your father answer a call from there?" He asked, passing a hand over his eyes. Mrs. Weasly brought him a cup of warm eggnog.
"Most definitely, if it was from a ministry wizard high up enough…" He said that as insultingly as possible. Mrs. Weasly's expression hardened, but she remained silent; Draco drew back a little from that heated glare.

Ho ho... What was this? He submitted rather quickly to Mrs. Weasly's simple glare….  Why was this? He treated Mr. Weasly with scarcely concealed contempt… The wheels in her head clacked around.

Mrs. Weasly straightened, eyes hard

"I have a perfectly excellent idea… I need the back garden cleared of Frost jacks; they're making a positive mess out there. Christmas isn't a day to be cooped up in side, moping. Harry, Hermione, Draco… "
He stared at her uncomprehendingly. Looking around, he was relieved to see he wasn't the only one, both Harry and Hermione looked perplexed, he drew himself up and masked the confused look, trying to look as if he already knew it all. What the hell was a frost jack?

"Oh, look, Bill, would you show them? Get your coats, dears, Draco? Ron's is the maroon one…" She started ushering them out towards the back door as Bill unwound himself from the chair he'd been sitting on, and followed them.

Draco reluctantly took the tatty coat from the peg. He was about to rather loudly proclaim that he would NOT wear this tatty rag, but the searing look from Molly Weasly killed that. He muttered irritably as he pulled the horrid thing on.

"Right!" Bill clapped his gloved hands as they stood in the snow covered back yard. "Frost jacks are nasty little critters that like digging up Mum's garden and eating the roots of her plants- she gets awfully grumpy about that." He grinned at them toothily
"They're pretty small… about the size of your palm, but if they bite you, you'll know about it. They only come out in winter; 'cause they hibernate for the rest of the year." He looked around the garden, breath steaming in the cold air, looking for something, after a few seconds he grinned and strode over to a low Gorse bush, crouching down and beckoning them over, and pointing to a smallish hole in the frost hardened ground. The brown earth mixed with the white snow.

"This is a Frost jack burrow; he'll be nibbling on roots right now." He pointed his wand down the hole and sent a flurry of little blue sparks down there. A little creature, totally white with enormous black eyes came scurrying out squeaking angrily. Quickly he grabbed it and dropped it in a bucket he'd brought with him.

"Dad doesn't like us killing anything, that's why you have buckets. They can't get out of them- after we've finished, we'll drop them in that grove, there's plenty for them to eat there." He pointed to a dark smudge of tress nearby over the back fence. He looked up at them
"Got it?"

Hermione nodded, eager to try it out, but she heard Draco stand up. The look of arrogant disgust on his face looked weird imprinted on Ron's usually open and friendly features.

"This is servant stuff…" he complained "I'm not doing menial work!" He folded his arms, his eyes challenging. Bill rolled his eyes at Harry and Hermione, and she and Harry exchanged amused glances. Bill got to his feet. Although Ron was tall and lanky, he still wasn't as tall as Bill.

"You'll do what I say, Malfoy, or I'll call Mum out here and she'll MAKE you do it." He said, not completely hiding the faint amusement that hovered on the edge of his authorative tone. Draco's expression, or should we say Ron's, hardened and he snatched up his bucket and stalked to the other side of the garden.
Interesting. Draco never yielded to anything less then a detention threat at Hogwarts, unless he could get someone else in trouble or use the situation to his advantage. Hermione moved to a rather dispirited looking rhododendron, kneeling down at a frost jack hole, her mind carefully ticking over as she thought about it.  A slow smile crept up on her face. If she played it right, she may have found an effective weapon against the pale faced bully of Hogwarts…

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Note- this fiction, as I said at the start, will NOT be a slash- Hermione is watching Draco for the reasons stated, she hates him she wants to learn weakness' to use against him later. And that's t. No romance brewing, no other motives, just children behaving like children