Disclaimer: Yes, I'm J.K. Rowling, and instead of working on the seventh Harry Potter book, I'm spending my time writing an online story about OOC Death Eaters. Yeah, right. UPDATE: 8/8: fixed Blaise calling Draco gay so it's non-offensive

This chapter is dedicated to my best friend Becca, AKA AppleNamedBob. She's cool. She'll be putting up a story soon, I'll keep you updated. She's hilarious, by the way. I have to give her credit for Draco's personality, it as her idea. Props to you, Becca.

A/N: If you've read anything else by me, you shall discover that I write lots and lots of author notes. So be prepared.

I just had to mention that I just noticed the coolest thing. I have one story with 107 reviews, one with 10 and one with 7. Isn't that weird? Cause it's like 107 is like 10 and seven! Whoa! Sorry, I'll just go stare at shiny things now...

By the way, this story takes place two years after Book Six, I decided, so Harry and all his little friends are eighteen. The timeline isn't crucial, I just want all those main characters to be a year out of Hogwarts.

I've been looking forward to this chapter for a while. You see, I am a HUGE Draco/Hermione shipper, and since this story is about neither Draco nor Hermione and it's not even a romance… I just had to slip a little Hermione/Draco (who is incredibly OOC) in there, and Draco will make an appearance this chapter, so, without further ado…

Take Your Kid To Work Day

It was Marissa's second day on the job, and she had no doubt that it would be as eventful as the first, for it was Take Your Kid To Work Day. She wasn't sure whether to be excited or depressed at this. Lucius was bringing his hot son (Marissa had seen pictures), but… what if he was like Lucius? Marissa could barely handle one exuberant Malfoy as it was.

She looked over at the bracelets on her desk. Ten down, fifteen to go. Voldemort had some new schemes to recruit more Death Eaters, though. She had been walking to her office this morning when she overheard a conversation between him and Rodolphus.

"I still say Avada Cruimperio works," Ro had stubbornly told Voldemort.

"It doesn't. It's impossible for a dead person to be tortured and controlled at the same time."

"You know that. I know that. But the rest of the world doesn't know that! We'll let it slip that we'll use this horrifying new curse on anyone who doesn't come to the dark side."

"They won't fall for it. Not every wizard is as dumb as you, Rodolphus."

"We'll ask some of the kids coming today what they think."

"Who's coming, again?" Voldemort said, getting out a sheet of paper and a pen that bore the label DEATH EATERS, INC.

"Hmm… I know we've got Malfoy, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini-"

"Zabini! Crap, I forgot to put the Zabinis on Marissa's bracelet list."

"I'll go tell Issa that she has three more to make." Marissa, now in her office with her ear pressed up against the wall, hurriedly sat down and began working.

"Four."

"Huh?"

"Zabini's got two kids. Blaise and some little girl. Something with a "B", I believe. Bambi… Belinda… Bella…"

"Caprice."

"Bless you."

"No, that's their kid's name. Caprice."

"I knew that. How old is she again?" Voldemort hastily changed the subject.

"Twelve, I think." Ro tapped his foot anxiously, ready to leave.

"Is she coming today?"

"I don't know. I doubt it. Isn't Hogwarts still in session?"

"He sends his kids to Hogwarts?" Voldemort asked scornfully.

"I would assume so, since Blaise went there. And so did Draco, and Gregory and Vincent and Theodore. Listen, Voldy-" The Dark Lord cringed at the nickname "-I'd love to stay and chat, but I gotta get got to work."

"Right."

Marissa heard feet coming down the hall, and a knock on her door, and she hastily added a stitch onto her newest bracelet.

"Come in!" she called.

Ro stuck his head inside. "Hey, Issa, just letting you know that you have four extra bracelets to make, for the Zabinis."

"Right. Gotcha."

"According to Voldemort, all the kids, which are your age, it appears, are coming in a couple hours, so you can take off then, if you want, and hang out with them."

"What are they like?"

Rodolphus took a seat. "They're all in a little group, I guess, and Malfoy is the brains and Zabini is the mind."

"Isn't that… the same thing?"

"Well, anyways, Crabbe and Goyle are two dunderheads, aka Malfoy's cronies. Him and Blaise are pretty good friends, I guess, and Nott's kinda a loner. There's this girl that they sometimes hang around with, Pansy Parkinson, but her parent's aren't technically Death Eater's so it's just them coming. Five guys."

"Please tell me Draco is nothing like Lucius."

Rodolphus laughed. "Draco is… different then his dad, certainly."

"What do you mean?"

"Um… you'll see. He'll like you."

"Why?"

"Um… yeah I gotta go." Rodolphus hurriedly left her office, muttering something about Bellatrix calling him.

Two hours quickly passed, and Marissa soon found herself watching the clock, anxious for the mini-Eater's to arrive.

A knock on the door sent her flying out of her chair in shock. "Who is it?" she called, fixing her hair.

"It's Malfoy and the group," a voice replied.

"Yeah, come in," she said.

The door opened, and a good-looking blond boy walked in, followed by two boys that looked suspiciously like rocks, and a tall, muscular black-haired guy.

"Hi, I'm Draco Malfoy," he said, holding out a hand with unusually shiny nails "and this is Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini."

They other three nodded.

"Um," Marissa said, "so… you guys are a year out of Hogwarts?"

"Oh, my God, yes I miss it so much, because, you know, us four were the head of the male cheerleading squad, and it's so depressing not to wake up with my pom-poms every morning (they made me turn them in)." Draco said without hesitation.

"Really… male cheerleaders… how… fabulous…" she muttered. So that was what Ro had meant by "different". Different was certainly one word for it.

"I was just saying to the boys that yesterday I got a this manicure-" that explained the shiny nails "- and, oh my goodness, it was just amazing. Pansy talked me into it, and it was the most wonderful thing I've ever done."

"Pansy… is that your girlfriend?"

"No, silly-willy, Pansy is just my friend, I'm dating this amazing girl, her name's Hermione, oh my goodness, what a sweet girl! I think she's "The One", but you never know, but oh, I love her to pieces!"

"How interesting… So, um… how long have you been a cheerleader?"

"Do you mean how long has he been actinglike a girlfor?" Blaise asked.

"Er…"

"He's been weird for as long as I can remember. Right Crabbe, Goyle?"

The lumps grunted.

"That means yes. I think."

"Thanks for making me feel badly, Blaise." Draco said. "I wish you'd stop doing that every time we meet someone! It's getting kind of old, now. I am who I am. I am a normal guy, I just like pampering myself! Is that such a problem?"

No one answered.

"Who else feels like they can do just the same things that the other gender does?" Draco demanded.

Lucius popped his head in. "I do!"

Marissa mentally killed herself. Like father, like son. "Good morning."

"Hi, kids! I just wanted to see if Drakie-Wakie wanted anything?"

"Morning, Daddy! Can I have a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich with the crusts cut off?"

"What do you say?"

"Please!"

"Okay, you know I'll do anything for my Drakie-poo! Have a great day, kids!"

Lucius left, probably to go spread sunshine to the other Death Eaters.

"So, Drakie-Poo," Blaise said nastily, "Since when do you get the crusts cut off?"

"I've always done that, but usually Mommy or a house-elf makes the food."

Blaise shook his head. "Malfoy, please tell me that you don't want me to go get you a glass of milk."

"Actually…"

Blaise shook his head and headed for the door. "Skim or two percent?"

"Skim, please. I'm watching my figure."

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Voldemort paced his office. The mini-minions were here today, and he was especially looking forward to seeing Draco again. What a sweet little boy! Maybe they should go on another picnic…Then again, maybe not. Last time Dumbledore had showed up and that spoiled all the fun. And he really didn't want to see Dumbledore right now. As much as he hated to admit it, he probably should thank his former Headmaster for those lovely potted geraniums he had received for Christmas…

He stepped outside his office and ran into the group of kids now. There they all were…and Marissa was with them. What were they up to now? He decided to eavesdrop.

After a quick hello to them, they disappeared down the hall to the games room. Voldemort whisked a glass out of his robes and pressed on end against the door, the other to his ear. This was better than Extendable Ears!

"…so what do you think of the Death Eaters?" he heard Zabini ask Marissa.

"They're pretty cool. Some of them are kind of weird, though. Rodolphus has found about every combination of the letters in my name to call me by…"

"For a while there I was Aiseble to him." The group laughed.

Voldemort felt a growing jealousy. Who were these nasty twerps, laughing at some stupid joke that Zabini told? How come they had the right to have friends? Voldemort wanted friends… and who better then the people occupying the game room now?

He barged in the room, causing Marissa to fall off the couch.

"What did the Knarl say to the niffler?" Voldemort asked. Without waiting for guesses, he pushed right on. "Let's go to the Three Broomsticks! Ahahahahahaha! Isn't that funny?" He slapped his knee.

"Ha…" a few people fake-laughed.

"Let's be friends!" Voldemort declared.

Even Draco didn't say anything.

"Let's go down to the Hog's Head, have a few butterbeers!" Voldemort suggested.

"I don't think so." Blaise said.

"Too bad."

"That's really okay, there, Voldemort."

"We will be friends! Or else!"

"What are you gonna do about it?"

"Crucio!"

Thirty seconds later, Blaise picked himself up off the floor, still shaking. "We'll be best friends," he muttered.

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"Seven butterbeers, compliments of the Dark Lord," Voldemort told the bartender at the Hog's Head.

"Of course, Your Darkness," he responded, pulling a dozen and one dusty bottles out.

Voldemort levitated them back to the table, where the six teens had been placing a bet on who would get Crucio'd first. Six bets were on Blaise, and one on Draco.

"Drink up!" Voldemort said happily, as they stared at the glasses in mutual disgust. "Is there something wrong?"

"Are you sure this is… sanitary?" Marissa asked hesitantly.

"What does sa-ni-terry mean?" Goyle sounded out the word.

No one bothered to answer.

"Of course it's sanitary! Drink up!" Voldemort opened his bottle and took a long swig.

Everyone else with brains (which was everyone except Crabbe and Goyle) pretended to open the butterbeer and take a sip.

Voldemort, however, noticed. "I saw that. Why aren't you drinking?"

"Because oh my God, ew, this is sooooo disgusting, I mean, it looks like it's two hundred years old! Gross!" Draco sniffed.

"Drink it!"

"Yeah right. I'd rather go give my bal-" Blaise began.

"Crucio!"

Blaise sat up a moment later and grimly handed everyone a Galleon.