A/N – Thanks for being patient while I was away at Schoolies, now I'm back with another chapter which I hope is enjoyable for you. I appreciate all the reviews I've received they're beautifully encouraging.

Chapter Two – Swizzle sticks

Draco ran an irritated hand through his hair and tried to think of a way to avoid the question. He was sitting in an interview with a journalist from The Quibbler. The questions had been expected to begin with; how did you defeat Voldemort? Was it hard? Were you scared you were going to die? What do you plan to do now?

But now the questions were beginning to stump Draco. He wasn't prepared for such a list of ongoing queries. He sighed in frustration at his inability to answer the question, and looked the man with large glasses and white hair in the eyes. "Sorry again, sir. Can you repeat the question?"

The man called Merv nodded. "In what way did the mating habits of Pinky Winkles effect your conquer of Voldemort?"

Draco slumped his shoulder in defeat at being unable to find a comical relation. "They didn't, I suppose."

The man looked surprised and mumbled something to himself that sounded strangely like "Pinky Winkles hypnotized Voldemort with their mating and allowed Mr. Malfoy to bonk him on the head with a swizzle stick."

Draco's face took on an incredulous expression at this mans intentional write up of incorrect information. "I didn't say that."

Merv glanced up as he finished writing the words down. "I could have sworn that's what you said." He looked at his notebook, "Yes. That's what I have here. I'll quote it for you, 'Pinky Winkles hypnotized Voldemort with their mating and allowed Mr. Malfoy to bonk him on the head with a swizzle stick.'" He glanced at Draco once more. "It's definitely what you said, young master."

"No, it's what you wrote down, but not what I said." Draco objected, then decided it safer to move on. With the lack of sleep he'd been experiencing, a trial of his temper was not a wise idea. "Ok, whatever. Next question, please."

"Rightio." Merv read the next question out with a curious look. "In which store did you purchase your lethal swizzle stick?"

Draco sat dumbfounded for a few moments with an expression of disbelief on his face. "Malvin's Magic Carpets." He suggested, deciding the article was going to be a crock of shit anyway, why bother objecting if Merv would write what he wanted anyway.

Merv nodded his head knowingly, "Ah. Thought so."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

"Of course, Mr. Jenkins." Draco said patiently, "You will all still be entitled sick pay and holiday leave. Nothing like that is going to change."

The Head servant of the Malfoy Manor looked at his new master with respect. "Then what is going to change, sir?"

Draco sighed and shook his head. "I doubt anything, but for now, let's just say I haven't thought about it. Because, let's be honest, I haven't. None of you will lose your jobs, even the house elves, and designated chores will remain the same unless you wish to request for a different one. If any of you do wish to change chores, I think now would be a great time to do so. Everything around here is about to change, so you may well add to it."

"Yes sir. I will inform the others at once." With a wave of his hand, Draco dismissed the Head servant to do his duties. Glancing up the stairs, he saw an edge of a black cloak disappear around the banister. Frowning, he walked up the stairs slowly, wondering what to say.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he saw that the corridor was, as he expected, empty. The only person who resided in this wing of the Manor was his mother. Draco approached her room and knocked on the door. "Mother?" he called in, opening the door a fraction so he could be heard.

"Yes Draco?" she replied softly. He pushed the door open and walked in. Narcissa sat on a large chair that faced the window, looking out over the Manor's extensive gardens. She was dressed in black, and wore a small black veil to show that she was in mourning of her recently passed husband.

"Were you spying on me again?" he asked, closing the door behind him and sitting on the edge of her bed.

She smiled at him slightly. "What else is there to do?"

Draco felt a pang in his heart and his throat constricted. He was the man of the family now. He had to stay strong. "Plenty of things, mum. Shopping or reading. Um…you could always get a job and start working again like you used to before you met father."

Narcissa closed her eyes momentarily, forcing herself not to think about Lucius. "I could?"

"Of course." Draco replied, almost coaxingly. "Or, you could start going out with your friends for lunch and stuff. You know, to break the day up a bit. Or…help me with things around here."

Narcissa perked up, showing Draco that she didn't really want to leave the Manor just yet. "Like what? I thought you had everything under control. You seemed to know exactly what you were doing with Mr. Jenkins down there. I'm impressed at your ability to cope with all this Draco. A lot of things have been placed heavily on your shoulders. But…I would love something to do."

Draco smiled and arranged something for his mother's distraction. It was at once sorted that she would care for the staff of the house, their pay, their leave, their dismissal, their promotions, etc. She would also take care of the house holds' expenses. Anything that needed to be purchased, she would organize with a servant or if she felt like an outing, she could do it herself. All these duties were usually carried out by the Head servant or others, but Narcissa needed something to do, and was willing to do it.

As he closed the door behind him, Draco took a deep breath and told himself everything would be ok. He just needed to get passed this initial load of things to take care of. Then there would be time to consider his future plans.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Draco's shoulders nearly rested on the table as he awaited his breakfast. Fatigue overwhelmed him each morning as he awoke and forced himself to get out of bed. The Daily Prophet lay open in front of him, and he scanned the back pages for jobs. Although he had completed seven years at Hogwarts, his results didn't come out for another two weeks, and he needed an immediate job. He could use his score to get a high paying occupation later.

The swooping wings of an owl sounded from the top window of his large dining room. Draco glanced up lazily and spotted his black owl flying towards him. Once it landed, he unattached the parchment tied to his leg, and opened it. It was a letter in a messy black scrawl, which read:

'Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,

I apologize sincerely for the delay of this letter, but my assistant coach and I had to tour England, searching all possible Quidditch players to fill the empty space in our team. Although you specialize in the Seeker position, I'm afraid we've already filled that station. After a thorough discussion with the assistant coach of the Speeding Snitches and the team, we decided that though your talent lies in a different field, we wish for you to take the position of Beater. We feel that with all you've been through recently, it is obvious you can easily focus on something new and complete it successfully.

I hope that you feel this opportunity to be one you'd love to accept. I understand your life is difficult to cope with at the moment, so if this doesn't work out for any reason, it won't be a problem.

Please let me know your decision as soon as possible, as training begins in September.

Simon Harrow,

Coach of the Speeding Snitches.'

Draco sat staring at the letter with glazed eyes, not really believing his luck. A smile slowly spread across his face. Quidditch. He'd never even thought of that. The timing of the letter was incredible, Draco thought, as he glanced at the job options in the Daily Prophet and noticed that he had circled 'Full time Cleaner for the Magical Lavatory Mishaps Association.'

He smiled and stretched. Not long after, his breakfast was brought to him by an eager to please house elf. When Draco thanked him, the house elf looked affronted but bowed and began quickly running off to the kitchen.

"Excuse me." Draco called after him, hoping he would stop, not quicken his pace in horror at being addressed by the master of the house. The house elf froze in his tracks and slowly turned to face Draco.

"Yes, master?" he asked nervously.

"Could you bring me some parchment and a quill & ink?" he asked, scooping a spoonful of porridge into his mouth. The servant nodded and scurried off, and a few minutes later came back with the requested materials.

Draco nodded his thanks, and began writing a letter of acceptance of the Beater position for the Speeding Snitches. Tying it to the leg of his owl, he sent it off, telling him to fly quickly.

Once he finished eating his breakfast, he stood and wandered through the halls of the Manor. The gloomy pictures of old dark wizards and dragons watched him carefully, and he had to suppress a shiver as he felt their eyes boring into his back. He was their new owner, and it was obvious they didn't trust him like they had Lucius. Lucius was the right hand man to the evil Voldemort, but Draco had killed Voldemort. He was not regarded highly among the dark possessions of the house.

Draco realized that when he was younger he could bear their presence easily, because he respected them. But now there was a tension that could not be ignored. A few wizards called out profanities at his retreating back. This seemed to catch on, and the hall was suddenly filled with noise, as evil people of past ages damned his name for vanquishing a wizard they admired.

Draco stopped walking and slowly pulled his wand out of his pocket. This was his manor, and he would not tolerate this treatment, even if they were only paintings. Spinning around he said, 'Obliterate!' and three antique paintings burst into flames. Slowly, with the screams of the captive wizards burning, the paintings turned in to ash.

"Do not test my patience. The consequences will be most unpleasant, I assure you." Draco warned quietly. "I am your new master, and if I feel inclined to rid my manor of you, I will. So you'd better hope I hear nothing more."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked down the hall, with nothing but silence meeting his ears.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

"Speeding Snitches?" A healthy looking Hermione asked a few days later. "No way."

"Yes way," Draco said, shifting in his seat. "I've already replied saying I'll take the position. So if all goes well, you'll have yourself another butch, famous Quidditch player."

Hermione laughed. "Ooh, finally you'll compare with Krum. I've been wondering when you may surpass his charm. I suppose the moment is on its way."

"That's such a mean thing to say to me." Draco feigned a painful expression. "I know my looks alone surpass Krum's, what with that nose of his. Oh, and my sexy backside."

Hermione smiled then said, "I don't suppose you've told Harry about this?"

"Why would I have told Harry?" Draco asked in confusion.

"You'll be playing alongside him." She explained. "He did get the Seeker position, you know. It will be strange for you both to actually be on the same team. I can't wait to see that. Oh…that means you'll actually win a match." She added with an evil grin on her face.

Draco placed a hand on his chest as if he received a mortal wound. "Ouch. That was uncalled for."

"But true none the less." She told him, and then changed the subject. "Guess what?"

"What?" Draco asked, knowing he would be the one to change the topic next.

Hermione smiled and pulled back the covers. Draco started to stand up to help her out of bed, but she told him to sit down again. "Just watch." Hermione moved her feet to touch the floor , then stood up without assistance. "I can walk and everything."

Draco grinned as he watched Hermione moving about her room with ease. He could tell it hurt her, but at least she could do it. "You're wonderful," he said, standing and holding her hand as she stood in the middle of the room.

Hermione leaned into his chest and allowed him to wrap his arms around her gently. He kissed her on the forehead and asked her softly, "Hermione?"

"Mmm?" she responded, lifting his head from his chest and gazing in to his eyes.

"Will you go out with me?" he asked, an amused expression crossing his face as Hermione looked at him in confusion.

"Huh?" she asked. "I thought…" she trailed off, as what she was about to say didn't need to be said. "What the hell are you talking about, you idiot?"

Draco cleared his throat. "I realised the other day that we started 'going out' while at Hogwarts, so we never really had a first date or anything. So Hermione, will you go out with me?"

She smiled at his interesting suggestion and said, "Well that depends. My schedule is very busy, between lying here, sleeping, eating, and with the main event of my day consisting of wandering to the toilet, it may not be convenient."

"How about I book a time in advance?" he smiled. "Would that work better for you?"

"Yes, I think it would." Hermione pulled herself away from him and went back to bed. "Did you have a time in mind?"

Draco nodded as he seated himself once more. "I was thinking this Saturday. So it gives you two more days to pick a dress that will knock my socks off. I've only ever seen you in that ridiculously loose Hogwarts robe and these silly pajamas and with the minor exception of nothing at all."

"Excuse me, but I believe I wore a tight black dress to the party by the lake a few weeks ago." Hermione reminded him. "Nice to know you forget so quickly."

Draco frowned, then his face broke out into a grin as the image produced itself in his mind. "Ah, no I haven't forgotten. But that image is stored in a separate section of my mind, so it's not quite so accessible in my waking hours."

"Which section is that?" Hermione asked with a frown.

"I've decided to label it as 'Fantasy.' I'll have you know you're alongside Lavender." He said, teasing her gently, but also checking if she'd recovered enough to get her sharp edge back.

"Oh, I get it." Hermione nodded, "Similar to you being alongside Krum and the very sexy image of Harry with no shirt on in my mindsfantasy section."

Draco stood up in one motion. "When have you seen Harry without a shirt on?" he demanded.

Hermione giggled, "The Burrow, Sixth year, December 26th, three minutes past midnight."

Draco's face became passive. "You're having me on, aren't you?"

"Sort of." She said. "I've seen Harry and Ron plenty of times with no shirt on, but I have to admit they fit more into my 'Don't Go There,' section than 'Fantasy.'"

"Oh, come on Hermione." A voice said from the door, "We can't be that bad."

Draco and Hermione looked towards the door, to see Ron, Harry and Ginny walking in. Ron looked mildly insulted, but Hermione could tell it was just an act, for his eyes were shining in mirth. Ginny winked at Hermione, "I agree with Ron. I know for a fact that Harry has a nice set of abs on him."

Harry looked slightly embarrassed and shifted under Draco's amused gaze. Ron looked sharply at Ginny, waiting for his sister to give him at least a little praise. When she said nothing, he prompted, "And…"

"Well, I suppose some girls might find your chest attractive, but when you get that awful rash…" Ginny was cut off when Ron hurriedly placed a hand over her mouth, saying,

"That's about enough now Ginny." Ron glared at Harry who failed miserably at stifling a laugh. However, he pretended not to notice Draco hyperventilating on Hermione's floor, but Hermione pulled her covers back once more, got out of bed and kicked him in the side, telling him off,

"Draco, get up." She said, masking her own laughter because it would hurt her too much. "Need I mention those bumps you get when you've eaten mushrooms, and I have to admit, their location is much more unpleasant than Ron's. I mean, the chest is fine, but when they start moving towards your -" Her mouth was suddenly covered by Draco's hand.

He stood and laughed innocently. "Ah, funny, funny Hermione. How I've missed you. And I think I'd best be off, see you Saturday."

Hermione giggled as she got back into bed, hearing Draco mutter to the others, "It's not true, she's just making stuff up," as he passed them.

The other three came further into the room, and settled themselves down. Harry smiled at Hermione and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You seem to be recovering great."

"I am." She beamed at them. "And I'm going out on Saturday night, on a date."

Ginny leaned forward from her place on the floor. "Ooh, who with?"

Hermione, Harry and Ron all looked at her incredulously. She melted into the floor a fraction of a second later, saying, "Oh right. Draco."

"But Gin," Hermione said. "I think I'll need your help. I don't have anything to wear."

"Easily arranged." Ginny stated firmly. "We're both the same size. You can borrow one of my dresses. Which one do you want?"

"Oh, borrow the red one, Hermione." Harry suggested. "If you look anything like Ginny in that, Draco won't even make it inside."

Hermione looked at her best friend firmly. "Harry, I hardly have enough energy to make it to the kitchen, so I think making to wherever we are going will be enough, without any…extra business."

"Then he'll make you wear it again when you're better." Harry told her. "Trust me."

"Harry, I hardly feel comfortable talking about this with you, thanks very much." Hermione said. "Please change the direction of conversation."

Ron pulled out a newspaper from his back pocket and handed it to Hermione. "The Quibbler?" she questioned. "Since when do you read this?"

"Since I was told about the interview with Draco written up in there." Ron said, "Page three."

Hermione opened it up, and scanned the article. She started laughing at the ridiculous extent his word had been taken out of context. She looked up at the others, and questioned, "Swizzle sticks?"

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

A/N – Please let me know if you like the direction of the story. And just to let you know, the Manor won't be anywhere near as long as The Cabin, it's similar to an extended epilogue.