A/N: Well, since more people have actually decided to not only read this story, but to review it, I've decided to update a little more often than never. I figure probably about every three or four days, but that's not guaranteed. Kind of depends on when the inspiration hits me. Also depends on how motivationally challenged I feel. So there you go. As far as reviews go, please keep in mind that I don't dislike criticism; right now, I think this story is kind of poopy. If anyone has any ideas, please leave them in a review, or I can always be reached by email. Thanks.

Here you go.

Oh, I disclaim the HP characters, and any quotes from movies or song lyrics in any of my fics and/or chapters. That being said, 'Smoochie boochie'. Haha.

The waitress appeared with the coffee, topped it off for Draco, put his smokes on the table, and sauntered away. She probably did it for Draco's benefit, but Pansy was the one that noticed. Nice ass. Long legs... too bad. Wish she swung my way. At that thought, she smirked the definitive Slytherin smirk. Draco noticed and raised his right eyebrow. "Pansy. Pansy. PANSY." She finally turned toward him.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Sorry, just because you're probably getting laid on a regular basis doesn't mean I am." Pansy sighed wistfully.

"Well, don't do it in front of me. If you want to do it, that's your business. Don't make it mine."

"Fuck you, a-hole. You've flaunted your girls in front of me for years. What makes it okay for you but not me?"

"I have a dick and you don't. Way of the world, darlin'."

"Fuck you again. NOW," she continued, "are you going to continue to insult me all night, or are you going to get on with your story?"

"Fine, fine, be that way. Must be PMS-ing." Pansy kicked him under the table.

XXXXX

Hermione was curled up on the floor for a few minutes. She couldn't believe this jackass had come to this house, found refuge with these people, and acted so ignorantly to her. How dare he? Who does he think he is, King of England? Oh, yeah, it's Malfoy. Of course he does. Hermione felt a little better at that. After all, the only feelings she had ever seen him express were disgust and hatred, unless you counted the glee he seemed to feel when he was insulting everyone else. I doubt he even has the capacity to feel anything else.

Upstairs, Draco was just finishing the last bit of stew, and was looking forward to wiping the bowl clean with the last bit of biscuit he had. It was a guilty pleasure of his dating back from childhood, when he would sneak down to the kitchens and lick the leftover cake mix or torte filling or whatever off the spoons or even straight from the bowl. His father had caught him at it once when he was about five and had given him his first sample of a muggle fistfight. After that, Draco was a lot more careful. He had the house elves bring the leftovers up to his room.

Anyway, the anticipation of being able to do something strictly forbidden was making him feel better. The distraction worked until he was done, which was when the image of Hermione, shaking with fury, jumped right back into his mind. Once again, he started to feel a little ashamed of his behavior.

Shit. What is wrong with me? She was trying to be nice and all I could think about was how much I wished I had been the one to take out Weasel. Well, at least she didn't kill me. That thought made Draco feel slightly better, but not enough to excuse his actions. He wasn't sure, but he thought he might actually owe the little Mud-er, the woman down in the kitchen, an apology. After all, she had called him immature and accused him of being caught up in the past, but she was actually stating fact, not trying to be an insufferable know-it-all. Well, he could show her he had changed, too. It can't be that hard, can it?

Hermione had picked herself up off the floor and was in the process of stoking the fire so she could make some hot chocolate to help keep her warm. She preferred coffee, but at this late an hour, it would only keep her up all night, and she had a lot of work she had to do tomorrow, not to mention put up with that stupid git all day. Well, if he can call me names and insult me to my face, I can call him whatever I want in my head. She mentally stuck her tongue out at Draco.

Hermione sat down at the table, prepared to take more notes, but suddenly felt the emptiness of the house around her. I need some music. That was simple enough. She waved her wand and the WWN, the wizarding 'radio' station, filled the kitchen. Unbeknownst to most wizards, Korn was actually a muggle band.

Being so late at night, the wireless network was having its normal All Nighter, when they picked a band and played most of their songs from 11.00 p.m. to 7.00 a.m. Hermione enjoyed their music, even though she was older than their typical fan base. They had become popular in her fourth year, and she had been a fan ever since.

One of her favorite songs came on, and before she knew it, she was singing into her quill and jumping around the kitchen.

"Life's always gotta be messing with me (You wanna see the light?)

Can't it chill and let me be free? (So do I)

Can't I take away all this pain? (You wanna see the light?)

I try to every night all in vain... in vain.

"Sometimes I cannot take this place

Sometimes it's my life I can taste

Sometimes I cannot feel my face

You'll never-"

She had just noticed Draco standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Oh gods, did he see me? She stopped right in the middle of a great headbanging session. She had taken her ponytail out and her hair was slowly settling around her head. Her face turned a deep crimson.

Draco was surprised. The little Miss Priss listens to metal? I would have thought she was more along the lines of Britney Spears. Everyone knew who Britney Spears was because, well, she was Britney Spears.

Trying to make her feel a little better, he started singing along with the music.

"Feeling like a freak on a leash (You wanna see the light?)

Feeling like I have no release (So do I)

How many times have I felt diseased? (You wanna see the light?)

Nothing in my life is free... is free.

During Draco's own attempt at singing, Hermione's face had broken out in a grin. She had someone she could get her frustration out with. She joined him.

"Sometimes I cannot take this place

Sometimes it's my life I can taste

Sometimes I cannot feel my face

You'll never see me fall from grace."

Draco and Hermione continued to jump around the kitchen and sing at the top of their lungs for a good half an hour. Draco had found a wooden spoon to sing in, and sometimes he would take a break to play the air bass. It was a sight to behold. And behold it Lupin did.

Neither of them noticed Lupin come into the kitchen; Draco because he had his eyes closed, playing the bass, and Hermione because she was headbanging again. There was a commercial break, and both of the wannabes were taking a much-deserved break. Lupin chose this moment to start clapping.

Draco spun around so fast he cricked his neck, and Hermione threw her hair back out of her face so fast she lost her balance and fell on her booty.

"Well, everyone feeling better?" he asked with a small grin on his face.

"Well, we were." Draco had a strange look on his face. It was part exhilaration from his exercise, part wariness because he didn't know about this particular person's feelings toward him, and part disgust because, if he recalled correctly, Lupin was a werewolf.

Hermione walked toward Lupin with her hand outstretched. "How was duty? Are you hungry? There's still some of Molly's stew left over. I made hot chocolate, too."

"Well, maybe in a bit. First, I wanted to make sure I left a note for Dumbledore."

Hermione nodded her head and produced a piece of parchment and handed Lupin her 'microphone'. Lupin grinned at her again, and this time Hermione returned it, although it was a bit sheepishly.

"Malfoy, do you remember Remus Lupin? He was the-"

"Yeah, I remember him. Defense against the Dark Arts in... third year?"

"Yes. Well, um, Remus, this is Draco Malfoy."

"I remember." He gave Draco a polite smile and settled down at the table. After about five minutes, he rolled up the parchment and gave it a tap with his wand to seal it.

"Now, what kind of stew was it?"

A/N: Sorry, I know this seems a little out of character for Hermione and Draco, but one of them just relived a really brutal memory and the other just experienced hell on Earth. I was going to let them argue with each other, but Hermione's been talking about how she's so mature now and Draco's not, so I didn't want to contradict Hermione. So, they got to do my favorite release of aggression – screaming to some really loud, raunchy music. Plus, Korn is my favorite band to scream to, so I got to pretend I was jumping around with Draco in my head. It was great fun, I tell you.

Next chapter will be more in-character, I promise, but I had to have a fun chapter in the midst of all this angst. It was depressing me. So, it will be back on track next chapter.

Congratulations on getting this far,

-Kat

P.S. Everyone that wanted a cookie, I am out, but I do plan on getting some cupcakes soon.