Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form

Help from Hermione

The members of SMITEM woke to find their clothes not laid out, their baths not drawn, no slippers, and what looked like signs of a struggle. The path of destruction lead all the way down past the lower parlor, where they were meet with a sight too horrible to comprehend:

Draco Malfoy, flustered, frilly-aproned, oven-mitted, and covered in flour.

"If you think I'm going down alone, you're all sorely mistaken. Kitchens now!"

Those flour footprints were never going to come out of the carpets.

--------------------

Draco's powdery footprints led them all back into the kitchens. Shamefaced elves huddled together barracked in a comfortably arranged corner, covered in fluffy pillows, knit hats, red newsletters, and light snack foods.

Hermione glared a warning to an elf desperately trying to offer refreshments to the entering wizards from inside its knit prison. "I know it's painful for you to watch this and do nothing. But don't worry, I've read several behavioral psychology book and that's part of the growth process. Soon you'll be able to watch Malfoy fin for himself or any of the others. In fact, you'll be able to sit outside and willfully disregard even their most desperate plea for service. Now give me that teapot!"

"No! Please don't make Botsy do this!"

"It's for the sake of empowerment. Now I demand that you sit back down, drink your pumpkin juice, and enjoy your life of leisure!"

The cowering elf ran for the safety of an embroidered lap pillow. Hermione nodded to herself and turned to her new guest. "Now that the elves are comfortable, let's get started."

The pureblood wizards tentatively sat down at desks that must have been stolen from Professor McGonagall's classroom. Hermione readied herself for a long indept lecture on the history and social context of her subject matter including some theories on it's relation to potions and the current state of nonmagical relations...only to be interrupted by Neville Longbottom.

"Hermione these scones are kind of..." he tried to find a way to put it nicely, " um...well, they taste like burnt fish."

The others pushed their previously unnoticed breakfast food to the far corners of their desks.

"I suppose that was to be expected. Monitoring Draconis attempting to follow a recipe... in his own kitchen no less, has made me understand how severely deep we will have to drill to resolve the elf situation."

Hermione's tone became soft and deeply focused. "I'd originally assumed we could just give the elves some life skills and the problem would be fixed. But this isn't like a small cavity (easily fixed without causing much damage.) This situation requires a root canal. It's going to be long, drawn out, painful, and possibly involve sutures and uncontrolled bleeding.." She looked out at her panicked audience. "I apologies, it's important we stay on the subject at hand.

Welcome to Preparing Purebloods a morning series of courses dedicated to making you self-sufficient for when the great liberation of our horribly enslaved magical equals occurs. We'll start promptly every morning from now on at 6:00am giving us plenty of time without cutting into the other daily activities. If you'll turn to page two of the syllabus..."

Ron looked up at her from his 'raisin' scone. "We have a syllabus," indignation didn't quiet cover the tone.

"You will find the list of required reading as well as the list of not-so required reading and the list of additional optional reference books which will be absolutely essential for complete your average-sized nightly and much larger weekly homework assignments." The horror of their situation was starting to unfold before their eyes. Hermione seeing their expressions tried to calm the group.

"But don't be alarmed! This won't be simply a dry lecture class! I've planned daily discussions of the reading, hands-on projects, book reports, bi-monthly tests, and challenging pop quizzes, so that you can truly get the enrichment this opportunity deserves."

Ron wasn't sure, but he thought he'd just heard Vincent Goyle pass out behind him. Hermione continued on.

"Now Draconis..."

"Stop calling me that."

"Was kind enough to help work out the particulars this morning after I brought him..."

"Kidnapped me from by bed."

"Down here early..."

"4:00am in the morning!"

"To test the averaged elitist pureblood's ability to handle cooking."

"You mean strapped me into this absurd ruffled garment, locked my hands into these restraining mittens, and then pelted me with eggs, flour, and two so-called 'tablespoons' of what muggles call baking powder." Then he turned to Neville. "And my scones do not taste like fish! They're simply a barbaric muggle creation best made inside a dirty cave with hot rocks and grunting."

"Really Draconis..."

"grrh."

"That's uncalled for, though you do bring up an important point. The recipes I have are devised for a muggle kitchen which is why I brought these." Hermione stood before the group and spelled open several large crates in the middle of the room.

"What is that?"

"They're...hideous..."

"This is the Kenmore 9000 electric stove top, dishwasher, refrigerator, and oven set... your new best friends." She waved her wand and thirty pounds of paper crashed onto each desk. "Before you are copies of the manuals, safety warnings, and general high altitude use instructions!"

"They come with books!" Ron sounded outraged.

"Quite right. You'll find that these are not included in your light nightly reading assignments. However it would be best to familiarize yourselves with them all before tomorrow as each device is capable of exploding, smoking and massive electrical fires when misused."

Pansy's eyes flashed in relief. "Elct...elect... Malfoy manor doesn't have elctecticity! You can't use those monstrosities here."

Draco's hopes began to rise.

Hermione already in the mode to explain anything to people with no means of escape gladly answered. "I've adapted several magical cores, to run them effectively. This opportunity to teach you all may have come up suddenly, but I've been working on these things for the last few years... on the small possibility that something like this would occur. "

"The misuse of muggle artifacts office will be all over this!" came a voice from the back.

"First, according to article twenty-seven of the muggleborn inclusion act. Muggleborns are allowed to adapt muggle objects to work in the wizarding world, to ease their adjustment into this life, as well as that of their muggle families if they are required at some point to stay with said witch or wizard. Secondly, Malfoy Manor would hardly still be standing if aberration in magical energy were detectable by magical law enforcement. And finally, as far as I can tell, this is an underground movement, that has never registered with or had contact with the ministry at any point. Now is most likely not the best time to start. "

--

The look on Draco's face told Ron it was best to follow Draco's grain covered robes out of the kitchens mid-lecture. He caught up with him as he rounded the stairs heading towards the Smitem housing wing.

"As if I bloody care what a braising pan does. Most likely it destroys hand woven wyren silk robes five times faster than this did..."

"You know a few laundering charms would get that right out." Ron offered.

"Laundering charms are beneath a Malfoy. So much as uttering one would leave Malishious Malfoy spinning in his frame." Draco waved his arms as he entered his suite. "This, is illrevocably contaminated by manual labor as is that carpet and this doorknob. Nothing can fix this but fire and a stiff calming potion."

Draco caught his first sight of the library that had exploded all over his, soon to be incinerated, veela hair wall to wall carpeting.

"Light reading my arse! What's all this?" Draco motioned at the third year sized stack of books crushing his slippers and threatening to knock over his now displaced night dresser.

Ron picked up a book list from underneath a toppled inkwell.

"Seven cookbooks, two on fire safety, and three on cleaning and sanitation. The next are on food allergies, and the last is a three foot essay assignment on the ethics of cooking and serving high calorie, high sugar foods and the related health concerns." Ron mumbled for a bit. "This one is a journal so we can make nightly reflections on the plight of house elves and how it's affecting a break down of our social structure. She calls it a 'Book for self-reflection, understanding, and realization'."

Draco started at the book stack, shaking his head and mouth moving.

"..."

"What was that?" Ron put down the informative assignment sheet.

"...big haired... muggleborn... witches..."

"She really doesn't mean it this way."

"..big haired... muggleborn... witches..."

"Remember it's not her fault she's like this..."

"..big haired... muggleborn... soon to be dead ...witches..." Draco stormed out the room barely missing cookbooks, parchment, and an oversized guide to utensil maintenance.

"I'm going to the Owlery to order some fresh arsenic. She can be gone well before anyone has to 'reflect' on my soon to be punished house elves or those metal monstrosities she calls 'a useful addition to any home'. We can either bury Granger in the west gardens or the lesser lake. My vote is for the gardens since if I see another elf in a knit scarf I want to be able to dance on her grave."

Ron tried to remind Draco of better ideas. "She's just overexcited. She'll calm down." Ron and Draco entered the owlery just in time to be hit by a Malfoy owl trying to head down the stairs.

"We shouldn't be receiving any post, what's this." Draco removed the muggle envelope from a put-up-on white owl named Ares. "From the desk of Bright Smiles Dentistry and orthodontic services. Dentistry?" Draco looked at Ron for some form of assistance.

Ron shook his head. "Hermione's parents are both dentist. Not sure what that is exactly, but it's something that muggles do for a living."

Draco unfolded the letter and read the formally typed contents aloud.

Hello Dear,

It was so nice to receive your last letter. Don't think that you have to limit yourself to only ten pages or only three letters a day. Your Father and I can always send you more paper if you're worried you might run out. I've been telling all of our patients about you're joining the S.M.I.T.E.M society. Of course we can't explain it all to them, but we try our best.

We're organizing everything you've sent into an entire set of notebooks, photo albums. scrapbooks, and personal profiles for the day in the future when you'll want to create a book about this experience and lecture about the history of this to the wizarding world.

We did find the list of all the society members along with the profiles of the academic strengths and roles in the organization fascinating. The pictures of the elves and muggleborns staying with you will be wonderful for the photo album.

We're considering sending letters to your Head of House to let her know how well Slytherins and Gryffindors are working together, the muggleborns living here, the fact that this Draconis Malfoy boy has put this all together. From what you've sent it's obvious that he will help you free all of these 'house elves' the second it is possible. He's obviously not one of these 'deatheaters' and will help you and that dear Harry boy, by standing against the 'Dark Lord.' Between renouncing Voldemort, saving his house elves, housing muggleborns, and getting along with Ronald Weasley, Draconis's parents should be very proud.

Enjoy your time at Malfoy Manor. Just wanted to remind you we'll be off to the Surrey International Dental convention ( I've included the location and our hotel phone number on the next page.) So please hold your next letters till then, but feel free to call us at the hotel. Do bring the stove back by September dear.

Love,

Mum

P.S – Don't forget to floss.

Draco's head spun with phrases like I'd like to enter exhibit A into evidence.

'"Malfoy, it will be alright."

"Alright...alright.. nothing is going to be alright again, and do you know why Weasley. Do you know why? Not only is there incriminating evidence of what we are doing here out in the public, not only are the names of our members exposed, not only is there photographic evidence of on the muggleborns we have here ... it's all in the hands of big haired house elf muggleborn witch-baring dentists!"

Eyes filled with visions of Azkaban, Draco went very still. The neatly written letter crushing in his hand into a remembrall sized ball..

"I'm going to go find Granger's muggles now..."

--

Ron barely caught up with Draco as he barreled down the stairs, crashed past a muggleborn, and stormed into the outside world.

"Maybe we should wait until you're...more stable."

"Oh no, I feeling very stable...merciful...benevolent...charitable...magnanimous."

"We could be arrested."

"Have you tripped over an Auror yet Weasley? No." With a pop, Draco disappeared in a puff of partially enriched, low sodium wheat flour. After a muffled coughing fit, Ronald Weasley followed.