A/N: Warning: Next chapter will be slightly lemony...more like Lemonade... You have been warned.
Draco floo'd with ease into the darkened kitchen of his own home. Never before had he had to sneak into the Manor but desperate times called for desperate measures, as his father would say. The kitchen looked the same as it had the last time Draco had been in there, two years in the future, as odd as that felt.
He had floo'd into the giant rock fireplace, big enough to floo half of the Slytherins into at once, and walked out with pride, looking around the kitchen.
"Filthy," He mumbles to himself in disgust. "The only thing that belongs here are servants." He says, snarling his nose at the darkened room, no more lit than the rest of the Manor. Deep cauldrons for holding soups and stews were set up neatly on either side of the fireplace, with a bread oven built into the far wall on the other side of the room, giving it a nice warm glow and filling the room with a comfortable heat. The smell of the bread, most likely baking for his mother and father to have with breakfast in the morning, comforted Draco, reminding him of how much he already missed being home and was ready to get this mission over with, that way he could return.
A large grill sat built into the wall on the right side of the kitchen, it being nearly as big as the queen sized bed Hermione was currently sleeping on as Draco worked over-time. It was basic, wizarding, having only metal rods to hold the food, (be it that his father was in the mood for herring, quail, or even the occasional boar) and was surrounded by a rock encasement, leaving the heat from the bare fire only upward to move and warm the food. There was also a small door, only big enough for a House Elf, that was used to put fresh coals in to raise the temperature of the oven.
It felt familiar to Draco once more, a more disgusting aspect of the Manor, but home none-the-less. Draco walked across the kitchen to a wash basin, washing off his hands and face from soot before walking to a small door off of the kitchen.
The door was petite, only about a meter tall, a pine door that was splintered with age and still unfinished with the basic medieval knocker on it for whenever one of the members of the Malfoy household needed the elves for whatever reason. Draco didn't knock on the door, instead kicking it hard once as if even the entrance to the servant quarters was contaminated with the filth of the House Elves that lived behind the miniature door.
A smaller House Elf, one that only stood at about 80 centimeters with a small, button-like nose and ears that stood straight up, like those of a rabbit answered the door. Her eyes, already wide and doe-like, grew even wider at the sight of an older Draco Malfoy in front of her than what she had expected. He wasn't supposed to look like this, she reminded herself. He was supposed to be younger, closer to their height than his father's.
His face was leaner than the last time she had seen him before his parents had sent him off for his second year at Hogwarts. His hair was no longer sleeked back like the House Elf was used to seeing, now longer and parted. It was no longer greased and perfect, instead having a silky smooth texture to it as her master now held a taller, leaner...possibly even more manly look to him.
"Young Master Malfoy?" The House Elf asked in confusion. "Young Master seems to have hit a growth spurt from what Kritter can see."
"No need to be fresh." Draco answers with a snarl, looking down at his servant in disgust. "It was an Aging Potion gone wrong, one that filthy mudblood did." He says, spitting out the words. "You are going to help me."
"Yes Master," Kritter answers, "Kritter is here to serve Young Master. Kritter will do whatever Kritter must to help Young Master."
"Of course you will," He says hatefully. "That's what I just told you to do. Now shut up and listen." He orders, causing the House Elf's mouth to seal shut. "You are going to get me a single hair from my mother and a single hair from my father. Then, you are going to bring them to the Shrieking Shack outside Hogwarts and deliver them to me. My parents are NOT to hear about this. Do I make myself clear, Kritter?"
"Mmhmmhmmhmm." Kritter says, fighting against the sealed lips to try and speak.
"Oh sodding hell," Draco swears in frustration at the House Elf. Stupid creatures, they were. Unable to disobey anything their Master commanded. It made to be very convenient at times, whenever they weren't trying to work their way around the rules as Dobby had, but other times it seemed like more hassle than good. "You can talk."
"Yes, Young Master. Kritter will bring Young Master the hairs. Kritter will collect the hairs from Master Malfoy and Mistress Malfoy tomorrow morning. Kritter will bring the hairs to Young Master tomorrow after Master Malfoy and Mistress Malfoy have lunch. Kritter will bring the hairs to the Shrieking Shack. Kritter will not tell Master Malfoy and Mistress Malfoy about Kritter helping Young Master."
"Good," Draco answered, already frustrated with the House Elf's lack of pronouns in the way that she spoke. "Now go back into your hole in the wall. Back to whatever it was that you were doing." He said in disgust as he watched the House Elf open the door, reentering the tiny room on the other side, wearing nothing but a dirty potato sack to cover her tiny body which was mostly skin and bones.
Draco shook his head before walking back over to the over-sized fireplace and floo'ing back to the Shrieking Shack.