I just felt sorry for you people hanging on the edge waiting…WAITING for another Chapter, so I will try to finish this before I go to Seattle. If I don't I'll send you a postcard.

PS: Niobe, I live in Clacton-on-Sea, just like the old couple in Chapter Four… *wink* How else am I gonna get my home town in my stories!? lol

PPS: If you are fans of the movies and not the books, GET OUT OF MY FIC!!!!! NOW!!!! *slaps* LEAVE AND NE'ER RETURN!!!

PPPS: I'm talking to Kaze Kitsune as I'm writing this. Spiffing.

Disclaimer: If I own anything in this fic (which I don't) I'll just sue myself.

Just as Hermione sat down to the library and all it had to offer, she heard Narcissia calling her to her room.  As she climbed up the long stairway, she wondered what it was about. It had been four days since the tour of the grounds, and since then Hermione had been able to avoid Draco nicely. She knocked on Narcissia's door, and entered.

Narcissia was sitting at her vanity table. She smiled and stood up. "Hermione dear, I have a favor to ask. Oh do sit down!"

Hermione sat on her bed awkwardly. Eungh. A favor is never good, she thought to herself.

"Well before I begin, I should call Draco. It concerns him as well," she said absentmindedly. She walked to the door and opened it, sticking her head out. "Draco!" she called. "What are you doing?"

There was a slight shuffle. "Trying to get drunk on milk," he yelled. "So far all I've accomplished is making sure that my bones can withhold a train running into me."
Narcissia rolled her eyes. "Come here! I need to talk to you!" She returned to her vanity set.

Draco appeared at the door, his hair unslicked and looking relaxed.  He plopped down on the bed next behind Hermione and stretched out, yawning. "Yeah?" he said sleepily.

Narcissia looked at him disapprovingly, but seemed to push that aside. "As you know, Draco, I belong to the Witches' Household Club," she said.

Draco winced. "Yeah, I know," he said trying to hold back his disgust. "Last year you had them over for that ball and I had to dress up in frilly stuff. I looked like a fool and everyone commented about how sweet and 'grown-up' I looked," he said, cringing at the memory. He held up his hands like he was drinking tea with his little finger up. " 'He looks just like his daddy,' " he said in a high-pitched voice. " 'He's going to grow up to be a very handsome man.' " Draco dropped his hands and looked up at the ceiling.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Narcissia said through clenched teeth. "because this year we are having a ball at Abagnale Manor."

Draco sat up. He blinked. He fell back on the bed. "Oh," he said faintly.

Narcissia nodded. "Hermione, dear, this is where my favor comes in," she said kindly. "I need you to come and help entertain the guests. We are also inviting the Wizards' Gentlemen's Club, and we will be needing to keep them all happy," Narcissia gushed, a starry look coming into her eyes. "We will have food and drink-- (Draco perked up at this) – and everyone will dance and talk and compliment on the house…," she murmured to herself. She snapped back to reality. "Draco, you will be talking care of the music?" she asked him.
Draco looked embarrassed at this, but nodded and walked out of the room.

Narcissia smiled at Hermione. "Thank you, dear," she said. She opened the door for her. Hermione looked at her. She had not offered to do anything! But instead of saying so, she walked out of the room and returned to the library.

Draco walked into Hermione's room and reached under the bed. He pulled something out and cradled it in his arms. He hates these stupid Witches gatherings. He had to stand up for 6 hours listening about exactly how much he's grown and dancing with plump middle-aged ladies. Not his idea of fun.

Draco heard footsteps and thrust the object under his bed. Hermione walked in looked furious.

"What the hell are you doing in my room, Malfoy!?" she shrieked. Draco stood up, trying to think of a plausible excuse.

"This is my room, you know," he said lamely. "I just came here for…" he looked around the room. "This!" He grabbed a little statuette of a dragon. It tried to bite him. "So now that I have it, I'm gonna go," he said. He pushed past Hermione and walked hurriedly to his room. That was too close. He needed to move his object to his room, so he could stop sneaking in there to use it.

And about this ball… Would he have to dance with Hermione!? Awww… part of his brain said. Shut up. I hate it when you think at me, because then I have to think back, and I hate doing it because that's almost like talking to myself only worse because I'm going crazy. Over Hermione? "Shut up," Draco said outloud.

Narcissia had just walked in front of him as he said it. Her mouth fell open. "I beg your pardon?" she said, shocked. Draco felt his heart sinking. He was in deep shit.

"Um, no, I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to…" he looked around franticly. "Myself?"

Narcissia glared at him. She grabbed his arm and yanked him downstairs.

"No!" Draco yelped. "I didn't mean it! I didn't mean ittttt…," he wailed as she shoved him into a dark room in the basement. Back in the Middle Ages, the Malfoys used it to lock up traitors and people who went against their ideas. It was somewhat of a jail cell, and TOTALLY magic-proof. When ever Draco did something over the line, he spent a day or two inside it.
Draco sat down on a pile of damp hay moodily.

"You will stay in there until you learn to respect your elders," Narcissia snapped, locking the door. She walked back up the stairs, clomping her feet as she went.
Draco crossed his arms. This is all your fault. He thought. MY fault? In case you haven't noticed, I AM you. So it's your own fault really. You're just crazy, that's all. Draco pursed his lips. He had a point there… Draco stood up and paced around the room. This sucked. He just got home from a prison he laughingly referred to as "school," and now he WAS in prison. He looked at the muggle lock. If only there was some way to unlock it… Draco started poking the lock with various bits of straw. It was no use. The damn thing was being difficult.

Half an hour later, he heard someone coming down the stairs. Oh good! he thought. Mother changed her mind. She realizes that I am going crazy.

Instead of his fair-haired mother, Hermione came bobbing down the stairs, smirking. "I always knew I'd see you in jail someday, Malfoy," she said happily. "I just never knew your mother would be behind it…"

Draco glared at her and leaned back on the hay. "For your information, this is not a jail cell, this is the mental asylum," he said smartly. "You've come to the right place; you may use the cell next to me."

Hermione smirked and sat down at a bench across from him. "What did you do?" she said, laughing.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I stole some wine from the wine cellar," he said, knowing that she would believe him.

Hermione laughed. "Smart," she said, stretching out. "Since I have no fancy clothes, I suppose I will be wearing your suits to the ball. Tell me, do you have anything frilly enough that instead of eating dinner, I can just slip it into my shirt and it won't be found for years?"

Draco glared at her. That didn't make any sense, but it still was a pretty bad diss. "I don't know, but maybe Weasly has something like that. Why don't you just ask him? You probably wear his clothes anyway. You being boyfriend and girlfriend and all," he said scathingly. Hermione glared daggers at him.

"Very funny," she said.

Draco laughed and tried to squirm into a more comfortable position, away from the wet spots. "Yeah, whatever," he said.

Hermione glared at him and walked back up the stairs.

Draco giggled to himself, and tried to sleep…



Draco woke up wet. All over. As he looked out the window from his hay, he could see that it was raining. The rain was pouring in through the bars and all over the dusty floor. Draco closed his eyes. At least there was something warm on his left side. Whatever that was. It felt nice, and yet vaguely familiar.

Draco rolled over and opened his eyes. Hm… that's funny. Brown curly hair, rosy cheeks…

"HOLY SHIT!" Draco yelled jumping to his feet. Hermione moved in her sleep, but did not wake.

"Oh crap! What am I gonna do now? How did she get in here? Why did she get in here? My shoes are wet and it's squishy when I walk!" he moaned softly to himself. He pushed on the gate. It was unlocked, and opened. A hairpin lay on the wooden bench. He eyed the pin suspiciously, as if it might suddenly move.

Draco walked back over to Hermione's sleeping body. He nudged her with his foot. She didn't wake up. He carefully and gently slid her out on his cell and into the hallway. It was fairly easy to do; the mud was very slippery. He pulled the door shut and lied back on the hay, squinting his eyes at Hermione, waiting for her to wake up.

Ten minutes later, Draco coughed. She didn't stir. He coughed again. She didn't move. Draco fished around the cell and pulled out a small stone. He chucked the stone at Hermione, and then fell back down on the hay, pretending to be asleep.

Hermione groaned and looked around. She frowned and looked around the cell. She looked confused. She pulled on the cell gate. It opened. She closed it, and sat in the bench rubbing her face. She looked at her back in horror. It was covered with mud from her head to toe. Draco could not help but smirking. Hermione looked at Draco, who snapped his eyes shut. Draco could hear her open the door and walk inside. Draco froze. Was he caught? Hermione crouched down by him, and kissed the top of his head. Draco stopped breathing.

There was a small person inside Draco's head wailing. HAS EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE GONE HORRIABLY WRONG!? it screamed, running around. The little person ran into a corner and committed suicide. That was exactly how Draco felt.

Hermione swept from the cell and went upstairs.
Draco waited until he knew she was gone. He kicked a wall and screamed. He slipped on the mud and fell. "My life sucks," he muttered, and started covering himself with mud

A/N: Cool! Draco's going crazy! You know the little person that committed suicide? I have a little person like that inside my head. Sometimes I crack up laughing at it, and get my ass kicked because people think I'm laughing at them. My life sucks too.

Read And RE~VIEW

There once was a fic about Draco,

The author was crazy and psyco,

The fans they all read

And review or be dead,

Uh-oh you better get Macco.

~Gm and Bo the Monkey

PS: Psyco DOES rhyme with Draco, so leave me alone.