Wow guys, it's great to see that you all are enjoying my story so far! I'm SO sorry about not updating sooner, but lately, I've been very busy with summer work and dance and blah blah blah... So anyways, as always, your support and reviews are extremely appreciated. I can't even begin to explain how much I love seeing those "Favorite Story", "Favorite Author", "Story Alert" and "Review Alert" notifications in my inbox. ^^

I would like to see at least 90 reviews (total) this time! *Remember, I won't update until the number reaches 90* You guys haven't disappointed me yet! ;)

OFFICIAL CHAPTER DEDICATION: Starangel0 for being a fantastic pen pal, supporter, and reviewer.

CHAPTER 4 – Mother Dragons Have Their Ways

Hermione could hardly believe she had returned to the Malfoy Manor after all those years, but there she was, sitting there awkwardly on a luxurious couch decorated with golden thread. In front of her was a frosted glass coffee table, laden with a flowery porcelain tray filled with all sorts of little snacks.

As if I could eat anything without feeling self-conscious.

Self-consciousness, in fact, was indeed threatening to overpower Hermione's initial confidence. As the esteemed and coldly beautiful Narcissa Malfoy offered her a benign smile that barely reached her periwinkle eyes, Hermione could feel herself flushing slightly. Malfoy, on the other hand, was distinctly avoiding making eye contact with anyone. It's just as well, too. If he were to be gawping at me with that predictably insulting look of his, I might just pop a blood vessel somewhere. Blaise (to her left), the only one who was seemingly at ease with the whole situation, crossed his legs in the position that men usually favor and unabashedly gulped down two tiny muffins. Well, of course he has no problem being here – this is probably like his second home. God, this is so awkward. Someone needs to say something before I go stark raving mad.

"So, Miss Granger," Narcissa said as she set her teacup onto the table. "What business brings you to our home?"

Hermione started at the sound of her name and hastily set her own teacup back onto the table as well. "I actually wanted to speak with your son, Mrs. Malfoy. I had the pleasure of meeting him yesterday after nearly four years, and I wished to catch up with him a bit." Right…because it was indeed SUCH a pleasure.

Narcissa swiveled her head around and placed her piercing gaze on her offspring who was nervously plucking at a stray thread from the cushion. "Why did you not tell me that you met Miss Granger yesterday, Draco?" she inquired with raised eyebrows.

"I did not find occasion to mention it," Malfoy replied in a monotone, his fingers still pulling at the unfortunate thread.

"Such a thing does not require an occasion," Narcissa remarked with her pale eyebrows still inching up her forehead. "It is really quite an interesting thing that you happened to meet Miss Granger after such a long time. Where exactly did this happen?"

Blaise quickly saved Malfoy the trouble of answering by saying, "Er, we actually met at the Three Broomsticks."

Hermione watched as Malfoy briefly widened his eyes at Blaise before emitting an almost inaudible sigh. Evidently Mrs. Malfoy does not approve of nightclubs – can't say that I'm surprised. I can hardly picture someone like her throwing all caution to the wind and attending or even approving of a disco.

"The Three Broomsticks?" Narcissa asked with a modicum of surprise. "I wasn't aware that you all still visited that place. Was old Tom there?"

"Yes, he was," Hermione lied. "And, er, what actually happened was that I was sitting alone in a corner with my nose buried in a book as usual, when all of a sudden, Blaise approached me. We soon found ourselves immersed in conversation, and after a while, Malfoy joined us."

Hermione thought she saw a flash of gratefulness in Malfoy's eyes, but she dismissed the idea almost as soon as it entered her head. How ludicrous to think that a Malfoy would stoop to such levels just to thank a lowlife like me, she acidly thought.

"How lovely," Narcissa responded before zeroing in on her son again with a speculative expression. "Draco, darling, why do you look so cross? You have a guest in your presence, and the last thing I expect from you is such a morbid attitude. Come, you must show Miss Granger around the manor!"

Blaise immediately disguised a bark of laughter as a rough cough as Malfoy's jaw nearly hit the ground.

"A tour? Of the manor?" the blonde choked as Blaise continued to cough into his fist. "But mother, I am sure she has no interest and – "

Narcissa smiled sweetly, but Hermione could see the skin around the older woman's eyes tightening. "Darling, please do as I ask. It would be an invaluable opportunity for Miss Granger to really understand the intricacies of this place."

"But –"

"Draco, take her now."

If she had been an immature girl (and if the person being addressed were not who he was), Hermione would have giggled at this command for reasons I'm sure you'll understand sooner or later. However, she turned to Narcissa and attempted to politely decline the proposal. "Mrs. Malfoy, really, I do not wish to trouble any of you at all. It's perfectly all right with me if I do not take a tour today…"

Narcissa methodically smoothed her long silk dress, adjusted the rings on her fingers, and clasped her hands together before demurely stating, "I would very much like for you to take a tour with Draco today, Miss Granger."

And without further ado, Malfoy hurriedly got to his feet and walked over to the door leading out of the parlor. Hermione found herself following him despite her initial hopes of escaping. That woman has quite a way with authority; I'd be mad to defy her outright. After glaring at the complacently smirking Blaise for a split-second, Malfoy opened the door and strode away, leaving a conflicted Hermione to scurry after him. They ambled down an immense yet markedly luminous hallway in stony silence for some time, neither person wanting to have to say the first word.

Wow, these walls are covered with ancient tapestries and portrait after portrait. Could the Malfoys really be that old of a family? I've read about their genealogy in a few books, but most of them never even covered the complete family tree… I suppose they do have a small reason to be a bit snobbish with others, but even an impressive pedigree such as theirs does NOT allow for blatant prejudice and discrimination!

Suddenly, Malfoy stopped in his tracks, crossed his arms (he actually has muscle?) over his chest, and barked, "All right Needy, you can stop your pitiful excuse of a spy mission now."

To Hermione's consternation, a meek-looking house-elf stepped out from behind a statue and began to tremble with fear, its bulbous eyes getting larger and larger with each step that Malfoy took towards it. Then the house-elf abruptly let out a screeching wail and began slapping itself in the face over and over while crying, "Needy has failed Mistress Malfoy! Needy has let himself get caught! Needy is a bad house-elf! Bad, bad, bad!"

Malfoy opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione ran over to the wretched little creature, knelt down, and held its wrists apart in order to prevent it from hurting itself any longer. At her touch, Needy shrilly screamed again and desperately tried to escape so that he (?) could go back to pummeling himself.

Hermione maintained her steady grip on Needy's emaciated wrists and gave the struggling house-elf a good, hard shake. "Needy, please, calm down!" she exclaimed. "You've done nothing wrong, so stop thrashing about!"

"No, no, no," Needy insisted while trying to jerk out of Hermione's grasp. "Needy deserves to be punished! Mistress Malfoy is going to be angry with Needy for not quietly checking on Master Draco and Miss Granger like Needy was supposed to!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Granger," Malfoy drawled. "Let the damn thing go and do what it likes. You're not about to change its entire way of life with one of your lousy little spug lectures or whatever."

That's what you think, buster.

"For your information, it was S.P.E.W., not spug," Hermione coolly replied. "And I most certainly will not let Needy go and hurt himself. It's barbaric, cruel, and just wrong. Now then," she softly said after turning back to the now sniffling house-elf. "Please stop trying to punish yourself. Just because Malfoy sought you out doesn't mean you made any mistakes."

Needy stopped wriggling and blinked up at her with tears brimming in his large eyes. "Needy is supposed to punish himself if Master or Mistress is unhappy. That is what Needy has always been taught." He nervously glanced at Malfoy who was periodically rolling his eyes before staring back up at her and muttering, "Why is Miss Granger being so kind to Needy? Needy has heard Master Draco say that Miss Granger is an ugly Mudblood, but Needy does not think so…"

Hermione could feel herself stiffen slightly as she listened to Needy, but she decided to act supremely unconcerned about the fact that Malfoy even managed to influence house-elves in their ways of thinking. Watch and learn, ferret boy.

"Needy?" she murmured softly as the little house-elf wiped his nose on the rag he was wearing. "I don't want you to think of me as a Mudblood. I want you to think of me as just a normal witch – perhaps even your friend. And I say, as your friend, that you have no reason to hurt yourself, and you have no reason to fall prey to other people's words or demands. Do as you like, but don't blindly follow others."

Tears began streaming down Needy's wrinkly face as he buried his face in his hands and cried, "Oh, such kindness! No one has ever shown Needy such kindness before!"

Hermione grinned and patted Needy on the back before he straightened up and weakly cleared his throat. "Needy shall leave now," he said with a ghost of a smile on his wrinkly moue. And then with a snap of his fingers, he was gone.

Hermione rose to the sound of slow applause: clap…clap…clap. As she adjusted her skirt, she turned and faced Malfoy who was still leaning against the wall with a look of utter ennui. "As much as I adore hearing applause from my fans," she scathingly remarked. "You really ought to stop that now."

Malfoy pushed off the wall and placed his hands in his pockets, a smirk playing on his lips. "Fans? Don't be delusional, Granger, it's not a good feature for you. You know that the only reason why anyone even mentions your name is because you tagged along with Scarface on his many heroic missions. Not to mention that you're still ridiculed by people for that bloody committee you set up in Hogwarts in order to save the elves and all that."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that. In fact, I met one of the exceptions to your theory just yesterday."

"Let me guess," Malfoy sneered, his face twisted with annoyance. "It must have been your pathetic little knight in shining armor, the one who so gallantly defended you after I had my rightful say."

"I wouldn't quite call him pathetic, Malfoy," Hermione spat. "Unless my memory fails me, which I highly doubt, it was you who got beat up quite nicely, isn't that right?" Nothing like adding a bit of salt to a wound to take revenge on someone.

Malfoy closed the gap between them with three powerful strides and bore his stormy eyes into hers. "Enjoy holding that bit of information for as long as you can, Granger – because the next time I encounter that bastard, there will be hell to pay."

Hermione unflinchingly glared right back at him, only vaguely aware of how the tips of their noses were almost touching. "You can keep your stupid threats to yourself, you prat. I don't care for them and Eric most certainly doesn't either. I think we've all discovered just how talented the great Draco Malfoy is when it comes to fistfights, don't you think? First you ruin a perfectly normal and well-behaved night out at a club, and then you manage to land yourself in St. Mungo's. You're a recipe for disaster."

Gray orbs narrowed into slits as the blonde beast growled, "Don't push your luck, Granger. Just because I haven't drawn my wand yet doesn't mean I'm not capable of hexing you. It may be a new era of reconciliation for others, but to me, you'll always be the frizzy-haired, buck-toothed, and most irksome female to ever worm her way into my life."

Don't kill him, Hermione. Don't ruin your perfect personal record. Don't let this ignoramus provoke you into doing something very, very stupid. Think of all the things you'd have to leave behind if you ended up in Azkaban, and for what? To rid the world of another flea-bitten ferret? I think not. No, you'll handle this with grace and poise because you, Miss Hermione Jean Granger, are a lady.

Hermione drew back and offered Malfoy a glacial smile. "Well then," she replied in a clipped tone. "If that is the case, I'm sure you won't mind if I worm my way out of your life for a while. I do believe I have outstayed my welcome as it is. I hope your mother won't mind terribly if I leave now. Thank you for the magnificent tour, Malfoy – while I didn't learn much about the manor, I learned a great deal on exactly how much of an arsehole you are. Good day."

With those parting words, Hermione tossed her curls over her shoulder, lifted her chin ever so slightly, and stalked out, feeling just as victorious as the day she had slapped Malfoy in third year. She found Blaise and Narcissa still sitting in the parlor, chatting about the current economy, and politely waited for them to acknowledge her.

Once Narcissa realized Hermione had arrived, she paused her conversation with Blaise and lightly asked, "Why, Miss Granger, leaving so soon?"

Hermione tried to look apologetic as she answered, "Yes, Mrs. Malfoy. I'm terribly sorry. I was being treated to a lovely tour, but then I remembered that I have an important matter to attend to with a friend. I regret to inform you that I must leave now."

Blaise inclined his head and quirked a dark eyebrow. "Is Draco coming back?"

She shrugged and smoothly lied, "He told me that he had some work to do in one of the far wings, and requested me to escort myself out." More like he asked me to escort myself to hell's furnaces, but they don't have to know that.

Narcissa frowned, her rather full lips turning down uncharacteristically. "I don't know what's gotten into that son of mine - he's rather lost all propriety ever since yesterday. It's almost as if he's gotten all the sense knocked out of him!"

Oh, you don't know the half of it.

Blaise laughed nervously and responded, "Yes, quite."

"Well, Mrs. Malfoy, I ought to go now," Hermione cheerfully declared. "I've had a short but lovely time here this morning. Thank you for your hospitality." May I never have to step inside this place again.

Narcissa stood up, the folds of her cream colored dress swishing around her legs. "I'll have a house-elf show you out." She called out, "Bonkers!" Instantly, a tiny house-elf wearing a set of striped, light pink rags appeared and bowed.

Hermione failed to keep her slight wonderment at the odd name in check, and the Malfoy matriarch answered the unvoiced question by saying, "My husband tended to experience spells of considerable emotional stress. In those time periods, he would take to calling random house-elves and issuing names based on his current mood. One day, he was feeling rather off-kilter, so he called up this particular house-elf and deemed her 'Bonkers'. Odd, isn't it?"

Hermione simply smiled, afraid to either nod or shake her head. If I nod, then does that mean I'm confirming that her husband was a lunatic? If I shake my head, does that mean that I don't think she's right in thinking it was odd? These are dangerous waters, Hermione. Steer clear of all these tricky questions and just GET OUT!

"Miss Granger," mumbled Bonkers, her nose currently level with her knobby knees. "If you are ready, Bonkers will escort you out now."

"Er, yes, thank you. Good bye, Mrs. Malfoy. Good bye, Blaise!"

The two quickly walked to the front door where the house-elf bowed once more and demurely murmured, "Bonkers hopes Miss Granger will return soon."

Hermione nodded once before making her way past the rows of bushes and fountains in order to reach the main gates. Then she quickly spun on her heel, more than ready to be back inside the cozy confines of her apartment once again. Once she was inside, she hurriedly reached for a textbook (Basic Human Anatomy: The Bare Essentials – By: Wilhelmina Toppins) and snuggled up with Crookshanks, ready to reread the book for the third time. She had barely finished with the preface when all of a sudden, her door burst open, and in danced Andrea.

Hermione threw her head back with an exasperated groan and exclaimed, "God, Andi, can't I have all of five minutes for myself without you barging in and completely messing up my day's plans?"

Andi rolled her eyes and ignored the complaints before flinging a thick envelope onto the coffee table. "I think you're going to be very happy when you read this, Hermy!" she said with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, not bothering to reach for it just yet.

"Why don't you open it and see?"

At that moment, something started tapping on the kitchen window, causing Hermione to jump up and see a handsome oriental bay owl pecking at the glass. She quickly lifted the panel up, allowing the bird to calmly extend its foot on which a scroll was tied.

Andrea, who had followed Hermione, examined the owl and said, "Who is it from?"

Hermione untied the scroll from the owl's leg and placed a bowl of water on the window sill. "I don't know. I've never seen this owl or this handwriting before."

"Go on, open it and see!" the other girl urged.

They both hoisted themselves up on the countertop as Hermione opened the scroll and read:

Dear Hermione,

I hope that Yuri and this letter have reached the right person, because if they haven't, then the receiver of this message will probably be feeling a bit awkward right now. Anyways, I was discharged from the infirmary not long after you left last night, and I noted with some amusement that you managed to make quite an impression on my bed sheets.

"Damn it, so he did notice," she muttered as her eyes continued to scan the parchment.

Regardless of the effect of your fine figure, I would like to see you again, sometime soon. I know of a nice place in London – a bookshop/café – that I think you'll find quite comfortable. If you're up for it, then owl me back with your choice of time and date, and I'll set things up accordingly. Surely we won't run into any more skirmishes while we're there.

Hopefully you haven't forgotten me yet,

Eric Crawford

P.S. If you see that Blaise fellow again, please tell him that I'm sorry for having punched him in the jaw. It was purely accidental. Thank you.

Andi crowed with delight, "This is remarkable! Hurry up and owl him back immediately, telling him that you're more than ready for this Friday."

Hermione fumbled around for a quill and spare piece of parchment before writing:

Dear Eric,

You'll be pleased to learn that your letter reached the intended party; your owl seems like a rather intelligent bird.

"Are you going to sit there and talk about the damn bird all day?" Andi exclaimed. "Stop trying to wax eloquent and just get to the blasted point!"

"Okay, okay, Merlin! Will you hold on for a bloody second?" Hermione cried as she continued to pen her reply:

Needless to say, your invitation sounds more than appealing: I'll be waiting for you this Friday at 5:00, if that's all right with you.

See you soon,

Hermione Granger

She sealed the parchment and tied it back to Yuri's leg while saying, "Could you take this back to Eric, please?"

The sienna owl blinked its huge black eyes once before swooping away, an orange bullet framed by a blue sky.

Andi sighed and slid off the countertop. "Now that your potential boyfriend has almost thoroughly stolen my thunder, can we please get back to what I came here for?"

Hermione turned away from the open window with an indulgent expression on her face. "All right, bring me the letter."

The petite girl pranced away and returned in a few seconds with the large envelope in her hand. "Here," she said excitedly as she thrust it at Hermione. "I want to see your reaction."

Brimming with curiosity, Hermione sliced open the envelope and watched as two big sheets of parchment fell into her lap. She picked up the top one and saw the label:

Confirmation of Employment for Miss Hermione Jean Granger

"Oh my god, Andi," she gasped, her throat suddenly getting very dry. "I – I think I've gotten myself a job!"

Andi clasped her hands together and began bouncing up and down ecstatically. "Don't leave me hanging! I don't know who's employed you; all I know is that someone wants you! Go on, what does it say? I'm simply dying to know."

With slightly shaky fingers, Hermione smoothed out the parchment and cleared her throat once before reading:

Dear Miss Granger,

It is our pleasure to inform you that you have been employed at…

"Oh, my god."

...

Draco angrily trudged back into the parlor feeling like his innards were boiling with the heat of his rage. That…that…that insufferable, prissy, snobby little bitch! Merlin, I hate her SO MUCH, I don't think even words could describe it! Who the FUCK does she think she is, invading MY privacy, eating MY food, and trying to take a bloody tour of MY home? Damn it, I did not leave Hogwarts for four years just to face this pile of shit again! And what the blasted hell is going on with Blaise and that depraved excuse for a female? It's like they're bloody best friends for life now!

His rampaging thoughts were interrupted by Blaise who brusquely cleared his throat and gave Draco a pointed look.

What now?

"Ah, there you are, Draco," his mother said as she glided back inside. Apparently she had left the room for a bit as well. "I was wondering where you had disappeared to."

Draco began, "Er, I was just at…" He rapidly glanced at Blaise who was furiously mouthing something and furrowed his brows in confusion. It looks like he's saying wet swing or something…What the hell is trying to get me to understand? Screw it! "Er, I was just in the library," he ended up saying.

Blaise loudly slapped his hand to his forehead and made a peculiar sound – a cross between a curse and a sigh.

Narcissa smoothed her dress out again and primly locked her fingers together behind her. "That's strange. Miss Granger told us that you had said you were going to work in one of the far wings."

Oh Merlin, so that's what Blaise was trying to say: "West Wing!" Damn it.

"Er, ah, well, that's where I thought I was going to go, but then I remembered I had something to check in the library."

"Mm, I see."

"But I'm here now. Was there something you wanted to discuss, Mother?"

Narcissa walked over to behind an armchair and rested her elbows on it, the golden sunlight illuminating her cornsilk hair. "Yes, there is. Blaise dear, I hope you won't mind if I ask you to leave."

Blaise leapt to his feet and shook his head in reassurance. "Oh no, don't worry Mrs. Malfoy. I should have left a while ago anyways. Draco," he added as he headed out. "I wanted to remind you that you and I still have to go to work today. It seems that Goldwin hasn't been able to delegate all our jobs today, so we have to go do them ourselves." He checked his gold-rimmed watch. "It's nearly eleven. I'll expect to see you at the office at around eleven forty-five. See you later, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa tipped her head in farewell as Blaise rushed off before turning to face Draco. He noted with some discomfort that his mother's features had hardened, her pale eyes exhibiting not an ounce of warmth.

"Sit down, Draco," she commanded. He immediately complied.

"Is something wrong, Mother?" he asked hesitantly, almost dreading the answer.

She let out a grim, tinkling laugh that would fool any outsider into thinking that all was well. Draco, however, knew that this was a sign that she was extremely vexed. "Yes, I do believe so. You know, Draco, even though you caught Needy in the act of espionage, you failed to notice another one of my faithful servants."

Shit. Why doesn't she just dice me up now and save her breath?

"Joy, my personal favorite, was also meandering along in that hallway," she continued. "You of course did not realize she was there, and because of that, she was able to hear everything you and Miss Granger…discussed." She had inserted a slight pause after Granger's name as if she had been looking for a more suitable word. "It pains me, dear," she went on. "It pains me very much to know that even now, my son still keeps secrets from me, gets into petty fights, and still antagonizes people who do not deserve to be treated in such a way."

"Pardon me, Mother," Draco incredulously interjected. "But are you suggesting that I befriend Granger? That I go against everything this family has symbolized and defended?"

"You are ignorant, Draco!" Narcissa loudly declared. Her anger was even more pronounced with the fact that she had raised her voice. "You said it yourself, it is a new era of forgiveness and reconstruction. Why, then, are you closing your mind off to change and harmony? Good heavens darling, you're over twenty years old, and even now I have to chide you like I did all those years ago? You're not a child anymore, so don't make me treat you like one!"

"You don't know what kind of person she is!" Draco shouted. "She's arrogant, and egotistical, and aggravating!"

"Draco Malfoy, don't you dare raise your voice at me."

He heaved a great sigh in an attempt to calm himself. "Listen, Mother, you can't ask me to apologize to her or even approach her again. As far as I know or care, she isn't worth my time or my patience."

"From what I saw regarding how she dealt with Needy, I'd say she is worth more time or patience than you have. And even if you don't rectify matters with her, which is unlikely, there remains the issue of your going against my wishes time and time again."

"What do you mean?"

Narcissa glowered at her son and moved to sit down in the armchair. "You went to a discotheque last night."

Draco rubbed his face with his hands and said, "Mother, it was a one-time thing. You know that I don't do things like that all the t-"

"Are you aware that I do not approve of such activities?"

"Yes." Man, I do not need this bloody trouble today.

"Do you know how disturbed I was when I heard that you were involved in a scuffle?"

"Mother, I'm – "

"Do you know how anxious I was when I discovered that you had to be admitted to St. Mungo's last night?"

"I'm really sorry, Mother, I am…"

"What," hissed Narcissa. "What gives you the right to drive your poor mother insane? Have you no concern for my welfare? Do you know what would happen to me if something horrid happened to you?"

"Mother, really, I'm sorry to have caused you to feel so bad. Please, may I be excused now?" he pleaded. I need to get out of here.

"No, you most certainly may not. I have another point to discuss," she replied sharply.

Draco let his shoulders droop and acknowledged defeat. "Can I just go ahead and say sorry in advance?"

"Be quiet!" she snapped. "Merlin knows how I got saddled with such a deceptive and ill-mannered son."

"Deceptive? I haven't deceived you at all!"

"Oh, please, don't play this game with me, Draco! I know perfectly well that you were deflowered by an anonymous girl when you were fifteen!" She flung the word "deflowered" from her lips as if it were the most repulsive thing she'd ever encountered.

"WHAT?" bellowed Draco, his eyes bulging and his fingers mercilessly clutching the chair's armrests. "Did Blaise tell you this?"

"He didn't have to. I found out by myself. I have my ways."

This. Can. Not. Be. Happening. GET ME OUT OF HERE!

"Did you ever find out her name?" Narcissa asked conversationally as she pretended to examine her neatly manicured nails. What the hell? Is she bipolar or something? How did she get so calm all of a sudden?

Draco cursed every deity he could think of while repeatedly clenching and releasing his fists. "No." It's going to be a dark day in Britain when I find out how she knows about this.

"How quaint," she said before rising from the chair, her mouth set in one churlish line. "Because, Draco, it might surprise you to hear that I know who it is."

He gaped at her with undisguised shock and earnestly asked, "Who? Who?"

She smirked at him with all the smugness of one who holds a delectable secret. "I don't quite feel like telling you, darling. And as far as I know or care, you aren't worth my time or patience any longer. Toodles, dear. Oh, and don't forget to change before you go to work."

Draco hastened to his chamber after his mother had swept out of the parlor. This is, perhaps, one of the worst days of my life. Now I have to effing go to work, knowing that a) Mother is going to blackmail me sometime soon, and b) I may now have to watch out for the Killing Curse at all times because Granger, no doubt, wants to kill me. Off came his worn shirt and sweatpants, and on went a light gray dress shirt with black trousers. A few spritzes of cologne, throw on that white-gold watch some family friend gave you, nice socks and shoes, and…done. Now all you have to do is act like you don't bloody want to commit a mass genocide today.

Within moments, he was at the office, sitting in his high-back, silver colored leather chair, and devouring a nice Reuben sandwich. He had just finished dabbing at his mouth with his napkin when Blaise entered the room.

The swarthy bloke settled on a chair directly across from Draco and folded his arms across his chest. "So, how was Mother Dragon?"

Draco absentmindedly shredded his napkin with his fingers as he offhandedly replied, "Fine. It was fine."

Blaise shook his head and began fiddling with a pen. "I tried to help you out, mate. I was trying to get you to say 'West Wing', but obviously, I failed in my attempts."

"Ah, yes."

"So…nothing's wrong, then?"

"Hm."

Blaise frowned with concern. "That doesn't sound very promising."

Draco spun once in his chair while emitting a humorless chuckle before stopping in front of Blaise and slamming his hands down on his desk, causing the other man to jump. "Did you know," he growled viciously. "That my mother knows that I had sex with some girl back in fifth year?"

Blaise looked genuinely aghast at this and gasped, "What?"

"And she doesn't just know that I did it, she even knows with whom I did it."

"Bloody hell! Well, what are you going to do about it?"

Draco leaned back and shrugged. "There's nothing to do. I've asked her to divulge, and she refused. So here I am, festering in the dark, waiting to be enlightened. Tell me, do you have any idea who the girl could be or how Mother found out about this incident?"

Blaise shook his head again and crossed his legs over. "No mate, not a chance. I know as little as you do. Blast, this is a right mess, isn't it?"

"Someone is clearly asking to be murdered."

"Right, well, despite these troubling circumstances, I wanted to ask you if you've seen the file on the new employees."

Draco massaged his temple and muttered, "Oh yeah, I have some recollection of seeing a letter about that this morning - before all this other shit happened."

"Did you happen to read it?"

"No, why?"

"Well, maybe you should take a look at it," Blaise mumbled rather uneasily as he extracted a list from his briefcase.

"What, did you hire McGonagall to be our top lingerie model or something?" Draco joked as he took the paper.

"Er, no. Just…read it and make sure it's okay."

Draco rolled his eyes before flipping the paper onto its blank side and sliding it back towards his bemused friend. "I've known you for nearly eighteen years now. I think I can trust you enough to choose a handful of qualified people to become a part of our company. I don't want the world thinking that I have a bigger say in things than you do, because that's the point of this whole venture: to show people that we are a team, a partnership, a dynamic duo that can reach for the stars. So you don't have to come crying to me for everything just to get these little details confirmed." Wow, that sounded incredibly cheesy. Maybe I should clap him on the back once to really complete this sentimental scene. It's like something out of a freaking greetings card.

Blaise blinked a few times as if trying to understand a difficult question, his brown cheeks gaining a reddish hue. "Wow, Drake, er, that's really kind of you to say that. And I don't want you to think that I'm sabotaging the company or something, but I don't know, I thought you might want to see the list anyways."

Draco waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and raked through his hair with his hand. "Nah, don't worry about it. I trust your judgment."

"Yeah…"

The door swung open again, this time allowing Draco's personal secretary, Angela Goldwin, to enter. "Sorry to bother you, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini, but your twelve-thirty appointment is here," she chirped, her horn-rimmed glasses slipping down her pert nose.

The two men got up and nodded simultaneously. Before they both departed for the meeting room, Blaise stopped in front of Draco and asked again, "Are you positive you don't want to see the list?"

"Merlin, Blaise, stop chewing my brains out! Didn't I already tell you that I don't feel the need to? Calm down!"

"If you're certain…"

"I am certain," Draco stated exasperatedly. "Besides, I know you don't want to torture me or kill me slowly, so I'm pretty damn sure that you haven't hired anyone unbearable like…oh, say, Granger or something."

Haha, imagine Royal Gryffindor Prude Granger waltzing into my office and telling me she's going to model for me. What a hilarious thought!

Chortling to himself, Draco easily pushed past Blaise and walked over to the meeting room, determined to somehow make his day turn for the better. But, if he had been paying better attention to his friend, he would have noticed that Blaise had never actually said anything back regarding that crack about Granger.

Hermione Granger working for me – HA! What a joke.

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EXTRA TIDBIT: I wanted to kind of get to know my readers a bit better, so if it's not too much trouble, tell me in your review if your mother is anything like Draco's. :)

Link to see what my Narcissa looks like (take out the spaces): http: / www . badeagle .com / badeagle /blonde. jpg

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x. enchanted x.- Your reviews got me off my lazy butt and actually put me to work. Thank you SO much for all your heartwarming praise!

Focid - Aw, thanks. Haha, I hope you aren't shirking your schoolwork for fanfiction. *HYPOCRISY ALERT* XD

Lady Allan - Yeah, I've always loved the idea of having that one amazing, bubbly, take-charge kind of friend who's always there, no matter what. :)

amazingtofu - You won't believe how quickly my heart dropped when I saw that you wrote Ch. 3 was "decent". But then I saw you were joking, and I gained consciousness again...

Starangel0 - Haha, now I know why you liked that sentence. Sexual tension, much?

ilovetivo - Wow, thanks for reading both of my stories! I'm glad you enjoyed them. Keep reading!