Guess Who, Anyone?
chapter 4

Ay, it's me again. Yeppers, Paige. Amie is right, we do have different writing styles. And she's just being insecure about the 'no one reading this' thing. We've got 308 hits already .
OK, so yea, I know that's not a lot. Sod off, it's better than nothing.

Disclaimer: Blast the disclaimer. You folk know we didn't start Harry Potter.

After meeting Janie, Draco focused on being rude as possible. The last thing he needed was a...crush...right now. But come the middle of the night, hearing her whimpers and sobs, knowing she was out there sleeping, cold, on the couch, was too much. Yeah, so he had a nice side. Deal with it.

So he went out and moved her to the bed, careful as possible. He sat in there with her for a few minutes, making sure she didn't wake up. When he felt she was alright, he left the bedroom, closing the door on his way out.

Actually, the door hit him in the backside on his way out. Ironic, isn't it?

After a few unsuccessful tries and getting the couch open, he gave up and collapsed onto its unfolded version. He'd have to ask Bobbie, or Sanders' new boyfriend Ryan to open it. She had just dumped that prat Nicky, who was a Muggle, and a religious one at that.

He accounted the deaths that had occured all around him during the war. The fall of the Zabini's, Pansy's mysterious death. Pettigrew went missing after an especially serious blunder. Fancy that, eh? No one knew, though, his real work in the war. He had been working for both sides. He would pass especially valuable information from one side to the other. With only his best interest, of course. No matter what, he'd have been on the winning side. Really, he believed in neither. Politics was one area he'd never met Malfoy standards in. Mostly because he had no interest in it. Ooh, rich boy anarchist. Catchy.

Only Minerva McGonagall, who had taken over for Dumbledore, knew he had been working with the Order. No one else, not even Saint Potter, Weasel King, or the Mudblood, who had been favorites of McGonagall's. Pity, Potty and Weasel's deaths hadn't been as sweet as he had expected. They fought valiantly, and the cost had been their lives. He almost felt sorry for them.

Almost.

He wondered what had become of the Mudblood. He knew for a fact that she had been vacationing with her parents in Land of the Yanks at the time of the big battle. She must feel horrible. If she were alive. He smiled a bit.

Finally, he was able to fall asleep. He dreamed of the battle, of the Mudblood, and of Hogwarts.

He awoke at about 9:30, about an hour before Sanders usually did, and quite a few before Mallie would. Unless Bobbie had stayed over again, in which case it would be only about an hour before she woke up, but about six hours until she left her room. He grimaced.

Oh, the dirty lives of those two.

He stumbled into the bathroom, hopping in the shower. He got out quickly and performed a drying spell on his hair before going downstairs to get started on his work.

He cleaned the bar, the tables, the floor, and the staircase before heading over to his least favorite chore--the bathroom.

He prepared himself mentally for a moment before going in. Drunk punks sure could get messy sometimes.

He cleaned the bathroom as quickly as possible, and decided to make sure Janie did her fair share of bathroom cleaning.

Sure enough, when he emerged, Sanders was sitting at one of the tables, counting the money from the night before.

"Ay, Casper. Watch'a up to?" she asked.

"Oh, not much. I think Janie should have to clean the bathroom," he said casually.

"Aye, she will. Just think, you'll have to do less work fer more mo'! Now that Janie's come, we'll only take out 'alf what we was takin' out before."

"Good deal. I'm just gonna run up and ask Mallie--" he started.

"I'd advise ya not to. Sure, she's awake n' all, but Bob-o stayed the nigh' last. There a lil' preoccupied, ya know?" Sanders said with a roll of her eyes.

"Ah. Thanks for the advice," Draco said sincereley. He had heard them one morning, and it hadn't sounded like something he wanted to see. He wondered if they had woken Janie up, and felt kind of angry with them for bothering her. "I'm going to take a walk. Join me?"

"Nah, got lotsa work to be done 'ere. Go on, spend some o' that money we've been payin' ya."

"Oh, I certainly will," Draco laughed, before giving a friendly wave and walking out the front door.

Draco walked around in Muggle London for a bit. It really wasn't as uncivilized as his father had always made it seem.

He spent basically the whole day exploring, though he did duck into Diagon Alley for a few moments.

He had also boughten his new friends gifts. He bought Mallie this little rubber duckie that was wearing a pirate hat and an eye patch. It carried a sword and had a skull and crossbones on its chest. She collected rubber duckies, he knew. She also had the oddest obsession with pirates. He imagined Bobbie in a pirate costume and had to choke back a laugh, for fear of looking insane.

He bought Sanders a bunch of band posters and a big picture of this guy she was always talking about. Brad Prick, or something. Prit? Pit? Oh yeah, Pitt.

He bought Bobbie a bunch of hair dye that he was sure Mallie would end up using anyways, but it benefitted Bobbie, too.

Also, he couldn't resist getting Janie this little book. It was tiny, but it got bigger when you opened it, and it was filled with these beautiful pictures and stories. He still hadn't decided whether to give it to her or not, but he bought it anyway.

Draco got back to the club with barely an hour until it opened for the night. Bobbie was the only person in the front room, so he decided to give him the gift first.

"Hey, man," Draco said, tossing the dye to Bobbie. "Your hawk's getting a little drabby."

Bobbie grinned and nodded. "Ah, thanks, mate," he said, before going back to beating on his drums randomly.

He ran into Mallie on the stairs. He handed her her gift and she got really excited, like she did over pretty much everything, and ran back up the stairs to put it with the rest of her collection after many profuse thank you's.

He walked into his and Janie's apartment and collapsed on the couch, closing his eyes.

"Ay, mate. What's goin' up?" Sanders asked from the doorway.

"Oh, hey, Sand. I got you some stuff," he said, holding the bag of pictures out toward her.

"Aye, thanks!" she said, examining them. "Ah, I've been lookin' fer this one fer weeks! I've been meaning to talk to you, anyway. Me n' Mallie decided to set ya'up on a date, alrigh'?"

"Um...with whom, might I ask?" he said suspiciously.

"Nothin' doin', sir. I'm on strict order's ferm the boss, AKA Queen Malls, not to tell ya. Otherwise, ya know I would."

"I think you've got that the wrong way around, darling," Draco said, smiling at her.

"Aye, I do! Mallie's dyin' to tell ya who, but she won'. Bobbie's asked 'er not to, too. N' she won' refuse 'im, fer sure."

"She wouldn't refuse you either, and you know it. That girl is too obedient for her own good," Draco said.

"Righ' you are, Casp. I'll see ya down there in a few, alrigh'? Yer a hit with a lot o' our lady customers."

Draco laughed and nodded.

Sanders left, and Draco was once more on his own. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a few minutes before...

"Thanks for letting me have the bed..." a voice said beside him.

"Aaah!" he jumped, startled. He looked down and saw Janie beside him. "Oh..oh, it's no big deal. You were like sobbing. I felt bad."

"Oh, thanks..." Hermione sheepishly, blushing. "Sorry for calling you a prat..and a prick..and a git...and...whatever else I called you..."

"Oh, don't talk rot. You aren't sorry, and you shouldn't be. I was being an ass."

Hermione smiled up at her disguised enemy, and he smiled back at his.