Author's Note: Bad weather sent us home early tonight, so I thought I'd post another chapter to (hopefully) entertain you all. Reviews would put a big smile on my face tonight, so….please?

Chapter 2: Survival

Draco allowed himself some time to sulk, enough until he realized he was hungry. There were no house-elves to make anything to eat for him. He stood and wandered into the kitchen, opening various cupboards and things. The largest thing in the room had two handles on it and both handles opened up into a very cold space. There was nothing inside but empty shelves. The cupboards held a few glasses and mugs and a few plates. One drawer held a little mismatched silverware. One cabinet seemed to have a couple of pans and a kettle. There was a large black thing with knobs on it. He somehow doubted food would come from it and decided not to touch it for the time being.

There was apparently no food in the house.

He sat at the kitchen table and grimaced. There were no cushioning charms in these chairs. Just plain hard wood. Thank Merlin he had his own bed. At least one piece of furniture in the place wasn't rubbish. He opened the envelope of Muggle money the Auror had given him. It was all flimsy paper. How could this possibly be worth anything? He studied the numbers on the papers, marked with 5, 10, 20, and 50 on them. He wondered what good five of whatever this was was.

He studied the keys he'd been given. There was one about as long as his small finger, flat, a dull coppery color. The other one was about half the size.

As much as he detested the thought, he shoved the envelope of money in his pocket and headed out the door. He went to lock the door and realized his keys were still sitting on the table. However, it was too late. The door had automatically locked behind him. He was locked out.

It was too much. It was far too much to deal with right now, not on top of everything else. He kicked the door, banged it, and flat out hoped the whole door would break down. Unfortunately, all he got for his trouble was scuffed shoes and bruised fists. He'd always been pleased with his smooth skin, but physically doing anything with such skin seemed to be a terrible idea—it was too fragile. Sweat ran down his face in a most uncomfortable way. With a last vicious kick that was no more effective than the first dozen, he sank down in front of his door, hugging his knees.

He was too absorbed in his internal monologue ranting against the injustice the world was inflicting on him to notice when the door across the hall opened and someone stepped out and approached him. The first realization he had that he wasn't alone was when she started speaking.

"Malfoy? Are you okay? No, that's a stupid question. Of course you're not okay after today," she muttered to herself. "Can I help you?"

He looked up, only realizing then that his eyes stung. Had he been crying without realizing it? He scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and discovered they were in fact wet. Merlin, Circe, and Morgana he didn't need anybody to see him like this. Let alone some Muggle. Wait... "Granger?"

"Hi, Malfoy. Want a hand?"

He levered himself off the ground, ignoring her outstretched hand. "What I want is my wand and my Manor and my life back," he said acidly. Or with as much acid as he could muster. If someone had forced Veritaserum down his throat and asked him to describe his voice, he probably who have had to call it whiny.

She brushed a bit of bushy hair back from her face as a way to remove the hand he'd rejected. "I know. I can't give you those things. But I'm sure there's probably something more immediate you might need."

He muttered something incomprehensible.

"Pardon?" she asked.

He repeated himself, glaring at her. "I'm locked out. I left my sodding keys on the table."

"Oh." She did a discreet check of the hallway to see if anyone else was there and performed an unlocking charm on the door. It didn't move. She frowned. "That's strange. You haven't locked it with magic, so it should have opened fine."

Draco leaned against the door, folding his arms. "I didn't. The Ministry riffraff performed all sorts of wardings apparently to keep me safe from any wizards or witches that might come after me." As much as he didn't want to contemplate it, he knew that list was not short. He'd made plenty of enemies.

"Oh." She was quiet a minute, biting her lip pensively. She came to a decision. "Come inside with me a moment. I'll write to Kingsley and see how soon they can get someone with the right authorizations over to open it for you."

Reluctantly, he followed her across the hall to her flat, expecting it to look rather like his own. "I'll put some tea on for you. I imagine you can probably use it after today. Have you had anything to eat?" She moved into the light yellow colored kitchen, taking out a kettle and putting it on on the Muggle way-filling it with water from the tap, and turning the dial on the big black thing. She looked up at him, still standing by the door. "You can come in and have a seat if you want."

He crossed the room and sat at the wooden table, finding green cushions on the chair seats. It wasn't anywhere near as good as a cushioning charm, but it was a far cry better from the wooden seats at his own table. He observed his surroundings. The flat was laid out very much like his own and was about the same size, but it seemed friendlier somehow. Lived in. He blinked. She had asked him something, hadn't she? "I haven't eaten. There's no food over there."

There was a pause as Hermione tried to keep herself from saying "Oh" for a third time as she processed this. "Well, I'll fix us sandwiches after I write to Kingsley, and then we can see about getting you some groceries. Have they given you any money?"

Draco nodded, but there was no response from Granger. He realized she wasn't looking at him. "Yes, they did."

As the kettle came to a boil, Hermione poured to cups and put the tea bags in them. She brought the cups to the table. "It'll have to steep for a few minutes. I'll be right back with some parchment." She whisked herself off to the bedroom and came back with supplies and her owl, which looked rather cross at being woken.

"I'm sorry, Athena, but you're overdue for some exercise all the same," she murmured to the creature. The owl sidled up her arm to her shoulder, resting there while she stood at the tabled and penned a quick note to Kingsley. She tied the letter to Athena's leg and let her out the window. She moved into the kitchen and opened the giant metal thing and said to Draco, "What would you like to eat? There's chicken salad if that's all right?"

Draco was brooding at the table. He was here at Granger's mercy. For all he knew, she was going to poison him. Maybe she already had. "Chicken salad is fine," he said after a moment. Poison might be better than a year without magic in that tip of a flat—at least it would be quick.

There was silence while Granger assembled the sandwiches. She took a small back of crisps and emptied half on each plate and brought the plates out to the table. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Hermione said. "I know your world has been turned upside down, but if there's anything I can do... I hope this experience isn't as bad for you as it could be."

He glared at her a bit wanly, after the day he'd had, he didn't have the energy to be properly menacing. It had never worked terribly well on her anyway. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to be utterly sealed off from your magic? To not be able to feel it? Use it?"

She shrugged. "No, I don't. But would you rather be in Azkaban? I'm sure that could be arranged. The Wizengamot only showed you and your mother leniency because Harry argued on your behalf in a closed session with them."

If Draco had been in a position to pay attention to anything but his own miserable plight, he might have noticed that Granger's response didn't have her usual fire behind it. "All I want is my magic, my Manor, and my mother back."

"Well, you won't have any of those things in Azkaban, so you might as well make the best of this situation. The Wizengamot usually just locks people up and throws away the key. This is the first time in nearly a hundred years they've done this." She closed her mouth as she finished speaking and brought both of their plates to the sink. She returned to the table and they both spent another few minutes finishing their tea tacitly. "There's no knowing how long it will take the Aurors to get someone to open the flat for you. Let's see about getting you some groceries."

Draco shrugged. He might as well. Starving to death would be a slow and painful way to go. He brushed imaginary crumbs off his robes as he stood up. He noticed Granger was frowning at him. "What?"

She shook her head. "Your clothes. They won't do. Don't you own any Muggle clothes?"

He gave her a look that clearly said you-must-be-joking.

She sighed. "I've got something you can wear." She started for the bedroom.

"I'm not wearing girls' clothes," he said icily.

If she heard him, she ignored him, and came out carrying a carefully folded pair of jeans and an equally cared for t-shirt. "These aren't girls' clothes. They belonged to––well, it doesn't matter now. But even female Muggle clothes would look less ridiculous than going out in your robes. Go to the bathroom and put these on," she said, thrusting the clothes into his chest. He grabbed them automatically. He looked as though he wanted to protest. "Just go," she said firmly.

For a wonder, Draco went. This day had been too long already to keep fighting. He just didn't have the energy for it anymore. He found himself in Granger's bathroom shucking off his robes and folding them, and trying to wrestle his way into the jeans she'd given him. They wouldn't go on over his shoes so those had to go too. After another few minutes of struggling, he had claimed a victory over the Muggle clothes and glanced at himself in the mirror. He thought it all looked a bit too form fitting for his taste but at least he was dressed. He slipped his shoes back on and folded his robes, going out and setting them on the kitchen table.

Granger was still there and she'd acquired a bag while he was gone. "Glad they fit," was all she said.

He nodded, taking the envelope of money from the pants of his robes and shoving it into the jeans pocket.

She turned away as if it was a little bit difficult to look at him. "Right then. We'll just go to Sainsbury's. There's one just down the block. For reference, Muggle money here is referred to as pounds." Draco shrugged noncommittally, following her out of the flat and down three flights of stairs to the street level. She paused in the building's lobby. "The metal boxes here are for mail. The postman comes every day but Sunday and you can check your box for letters at any time. They should have given you a small key that opens it."

He nodded, wondering why he'd possibly need to know that information. Honestly, who would write to him? As they left the building and started down the block, Draco tried to get his bearing on his surroundings. There were men and women both wearing pants like his. They passed by several shop windows, and Draco nearly got run over crossing the street, before Hermione brought them into Sainsbury's. There were shelves upon shelves stocked with boxes and cans with pictures of food on them. One display even had bottles of wine. Draco grabbed one, and then another one. Hermione in the meantime had gotten a small cart.

"What do you like eating?"

Malfoy wasn't terribly helpful or informative throughout the shopping process, so by and large, Hermione decided what went into his cart. She took the wine bottles from his hands and placed them in. She grabbed a loaf of bread and a box of tea bags. "Do you eat cereal?" He had shrugged, so she put a box of a nutty fruity cereal into the cart. It would be good for him to have some things that didn't require cooking while he adjusted. She found butter and milk for him, as well as eggs and ham. She added a number of other things into the cart she thought he might need, including some meat, and a few cold things already prepared and just in need of heating. There were a few breasts of chicken kiev that just needed a little time in the oven.

A man behind some sort of desk with a big metal thing took everything from the cart and made it beep while numbers filled up a screen. Eventually he read out the total.

Draco realized he was supposed to pay and took out his envelope of money and handing over what was needed. Muggle money wasn't that difficult. The man handed him back his change in bills and coins. Coins? He hadn't had any coins before. He sighed as though wounded when Granger told him to take half the bags of food. She took the other half and they started the short trek back to their building and up the stairs. There were too many bloody stairs. He was sweating in a most un-Malfoylike way by the time he got back, and he could feel an ache in his arms.

Granger opened the door to her flat and they came in. Draco wandered around the room, looking at the various pictures on the walls, noticing she had one of the big glass boxes on the floor like he had. He wondered what purpose it served. He also noticed that one fundamental difference between her place and his was that she has a fireplace. At that moment, a head appeared through it.

"Hermione Granger, are you in?"

Granger hurried over. "Yes, are you from the Ministry?"

"Yes, I'm Auror Caffrey. May I come over? Is Draco Malfoy still there?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm right here."

Granger and the Auror both seemed to ignore him. "Yes, he's here. Come over."

A few moments later, the Auror had stepped through the fireplace, banging his head on the way out. He rubbed his forehead ruefully.

"Sorry about that. I haven't had time to add a stretching charm into the stonework yet," Hermione said. She led him across the hall and he muttered the appropriate unlocking spell.

Draco stood at Hermione's doorway and could see the two of them having a quiet conversation, though he couldn't make out the words.

"If it's alright with you, I'll add you to the wards so if this happens again, you can get in. I've got a spare key here too," the Auror offered.

Hermione's eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. "Shouldn't that be Malfoy's call?"

"It's that or him having to wait here for me or Burke the next time this happens. Kingsley okayed it," Caffrey told her. He pressed the key into her hand. "Everyone knows who you are."

Hermione took it with only a little hesitation.

Caffrey pretended to tip an imaginary hat to her and looked back at Draco. "Anything else I can do for you?"

Draco couldn't think of anything offhand to say that wouldn't get him in more trouble, and he was painfully aware that he was wandless and facing an armed Auror. He said nothing.

With a quick look around to check for Muggles, Caffrey disapparated.

Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy watched one another for a moment. "Well, come on then. Let's get your groceries out of my place and into yours. The door is open now."

The two of them gathered up the bags and brought them into Draco's kitchen. Granger opened the giant cold thing and started putting the cold foods in there. "Malfoy, the top part here is for frozen things. The other part here for cold things." She started putting away the eggs, milk, butter, and meat.

Draco looked quizzically at the cereal box.

"That's generally for breakfast." She moved over to the stove and oven and started to explain how to use them. "Is it clear?"

"I'll be fine."

She looked uncomfortable, like she wasn't sure she should leave him alone.

"I'll be fine," he repeated.

She nodded once and left, pausing at the door long enough to say, "If you need anything, I'm just across the hall."

Draco was left alone with himself. He heard Xavier making irritated sounds in his cage in the bedroom. He spent some time refilling Xavier's water bowl. He realized he hadn't brought any food for him, and the owl treats were in his robes, still over at Granger's flat. He spent some time stroking his owl while the bird drank and then opened the window for him. "I'll have some treats for you next time. Go for a hunt. Just remember...we live here now." The words sounded hollow. He watched Xavier fly into the dusky sky.

He wandered around the flat, wondering if maybe he should make some tea. It had seemed simple enough when Granger had done it. The truth was, he didn't want tea. He went to open one of the bottles of wine and found the cork imbedded rather deeply in the bottle. He had no wand to dislodge it with, and nothing in the silverware drawer seemed suitable to the task. He dug at the cork with a knife and only succeeded in cracking it.

This was not his day.

He went to the table and picked up his keys, shoving them into the pocket of the jeans he was wearing. These awful things were rather too tight. Before he could change his mind he'd opened his door, crossed the short space between, and knocked on Granger's door, the bottle of wine with its massacred cork still in his hand.

She came to the door, looking a bit surprised to see him again. "Hi, Malfoy."

"Granger." He wasn't sure what to say. He hadn't really thought this through. There didn't seem to be enough energy left in his brain to form any words. He raised the bottle of wine, showing her the cork.

She nodded in understanding and turned to get something from the kitchen.

Draco wasn't sure whether to follow her or stay where he was. "I haven't had dinner." The words simply fell out of his mouth.

She looked at him. "Aren't you coming in?"

He shrugged and stepped back inside, hanging just inside the door.

"I'm not going to bite," she said, coming and gently taking the bottle from his hand. She set the bottle on the counter and opened up a drawer filled with all sorts of shiny instruments. She picked one and put it to work on the wine bottle. Draco watched and in moments, the cork was liberated from the bottle and she poured a couple of glasses. "I haven't eaten yet either." She handed him a glass. "I'll make something."

He alternated between watching her cook, wandering the room listlessly, and sitting on the couch. He watched her take the ground meat and mush it in her hands. He rather thought he might be sick.

"Do you want to try?"

"Merlin no," he said, backing away and heading back to the safety of the couch. A few minutes later, he found himself drawn back towards the kitchen by his nose. "What is that?"

"Well, you're smelling the onions caramelizing and beef cooking," she said, helping herself to a sip of wine. "It should be ready soon."

He waited in the kitchen, watching her finish preparing the meal. She had transformed the squishy looking meat into a suitably appealing meal. Except for the things sitting on the side of the plate. "Why would you serve broccoli with that?"

"Because, this cheeseburger is delicious and not terribly healthy. The broccoli helps balance it. Here, take your plate to the table."

They had a civil if quiet dinner. Towards the end, Draco asked her about something that had been bothering him. "I understand what the cold box is for, and the hot one. That's pretty self-explanatory. But what about that one? I couldn't find any way to open it."

Granger followed his gaze to where he was pointing. "That's the TV."

"TV?"

"Television. It's like the wizarding wireless, but with pictures too. Here," she said, getting up and moving to the couch. She picked up a small rectangular object and pressed one of its numerous buttons. The television began emitting noises and showing pictures of people.

Draco stood behind the couch, frowning at the screen. "So it's...entertainment?" He was surprised to hear Granger laugh just a bit in response. He was pretty sure she hadn't laughed all day until that point.

"It's supposed to be. A lot of shows are rubbish, but you find a few good ones from time to time. There's also films if you'd rather."

Draco took the bait, leaning his arms on the back of the couch. "Films?"

"TV shows are usually a half hour or an hour a piece. Films or movies are usually a couple of hours long." She got up to demonstrate. "You've got a cassette like this," she selected one from a shelf and took it out of its box, "and you put it in the slot down here." She pressed play and James Bond came to life on screen. "This was one of my favorites as a child."

Draco watched, curious, eventually moving to sit on the couch next to Granger. About halfway through the film he asked, "Muggles made this? Really?"

"Oh yes, years and years ago. There are some great films out there." As the movie progressed, she curled up against the arm of the couch with her arms wrapped around her knees.

By the time the movie ended, she was asleep.

Draco got to his feet and found the robes he'd been wearing that afternoon and took them with him, leaving quietly. Back in his flat, everything was exactly the same as he had left it, except that it was dark and he wasn't sure how to fix that. He stumbled his way through the dark and into his bedroom by the ambient light seeping in through the windows. He managed to only bang his foot twice.

He found himself face to face with an unmade bed for the first time in only Merlin knew how long. The house-elves had always made up his bed. The sheets weren't even on it-they were just a jumble of sheets and blankets and pillows. He disentangled one pillow and his comforter as best he could, shed his ridiculous Muggle clothing, and curled up to try to sleep on the bare mattress. The blankets were wrong, the light was wrong, and everything was just wrong. It was a long time before he fell asleep.