A/N: Hope you enjoy this next chapter. I quite enjoyed writing it. May I also say how frigging stupid it is that more about Hermione's life wasn't included in canon?! So through Draco (that nosy little bastard) I decided to explore. Warm wishes for a sexy new year. Love, Mr. Friction

Chapter Twenty-One: The Malfoy, The Mudblood and The Muggles

..

Granger's parents were just as nerdy as she was, wearing cautious expressions and respectably boring clothes. Her father was tall and straight-backed with glasses and short, flyaway hair. Her mother was slightly mousey, dark-haired and possessed tits that deserved a metal.

"Do I know you, young man?" asked Mr. Muggle, cocking his head to the side.

"Forgive me for not being clear. I am a friend of your daughter's from Hogwarts. She told me to come around to help her work out an essay. You see, we're both at the top of our class except I'm slightly better at everything since she is a Muggle-born and I am fully a wizard. It's a kind of rule in the world of magic. Muggle-borns often need extra help from Purebloods like me. I offered her assistance this term and that is how we became study partners," I said with that same wide smile. I could hardly keep from laughing at their puzzled, stupid faces. My hand was still outstretched in midair. "I'm sorry that I walked in, but the door was open and I really did need the toilet."

There was a pause.

Mrs. Muggle-With-Nice-Breasts smiled and came forward. "How lovely of you to help our Hermione! She just adores Hogwarts and it's so nice to finally meet one of her friends for more than a passing second!" She took my hand and shook it vigorously. "I'm Mary Granger, her mother—"

"And I'm her father. Richard," said Mr. Muggle, also smiling. He shook my hand after Mrs. Muggle-With-Nice-Tits released me from her grip. "I'm so glad someone's coming round for Hermione. Sometimes I worry she thinks we're too boring and intentionally keeps all of her friends away from us!"

I smirked even wider. "Where would you ever get that idea!?" I said sarcastically. "You already seem like some of the most intriguing people I've ever met!"

Mrs. Muggle laughed. "You're too much!" she said in a kind voice. Snakes. She thought I was serious. Oh Salazar, was this going to be a blast! "You didn't introduce yourself!"

"Oh, please forgive me! Er. My name is…" I stopped for a moment to think. "My name is Deadric Diggory," I said quickly and then snorted loudly at my mistake.

"Your name is what?" repeated Mr. Muggle with furrowed brows.

I cleared my throat. "My name is Draco Diggory," I said, deciding that as long as I did not reveal my last name I'd be safe. "It is very nice to make your acquaintance," I beamed, "but I should be heading off—"

"You're not going to stay and help our Hermione? She'll be so disappointed." asked Mrs. Muggle worriedly. "We'll be heading to work in an hour and so you two won't be bothered! You can use the study if you wish and we have all kinds of snacks…"

"It's not often we get guests!" put in Mr. Muggle. "Are you hungry? Generally, we keep to a very strict regimen of bran cereal and fruit in the morning but the day after Christmas is sort of special. We like to fix a family breakfast. I'm about to cook up my famous eggs, sausages and pancakes!"

I tried to play it off like their traditional day after Christmas breakfast didn't sound like the best idea ever but I winced as my empty stomach produce a low rumbling sound. How utterly pathetic. Any food sounded swell at this point but that line up was making my mouth water.

"This year we have to work so I was going to keep it warming on the stove for Hermione when she wakes up. But since you're here you could eat with us while you wait for her. That is, if you don't mind keeping company with parents." He gave a nervous laugh that suggested he very much hoped I adored parents and would be heartbroken if I said otherwise.

My first instinct was to call them tiresome old Muggles and make a run for it. But where would I be running to? My manor, where there was nothing but sorrow and a possibly poisoned fruit basket? I am certain I could find something to eat but this was an offer for a bountiful breakfast right here, right now. I'd been avoiding full meals for some time now due to stress and rage but today I was well-shagged and feeling quite content. It was the perfect day to indulge in actual food before getting back to my routine of the angst-ridden starvation that went hand-in-hand with perfecting the Vanishing Cabinet.

"Oh yes," I said and I was surprised by the eagerness in my voice, "I wouldn't want anything more in the world. You see, I haven't really had any food since yesterday morning."

Mrs. Muggle and Mr. Muggle exchanged worried glances. "Have a seat, Draco," said Mrs. Muggle slowly, gesturing to the breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Mr. Muggle switched a knob on the stove and a little blue flame sparked to life. Mrs. Muggle started bustling around the kitchen, taking out bowls and ingredients for breakfast.

I nodded and immediately flopped into the booth, crossing one leg over the other. "Thank you ever so much," I said in a tone of mock gratitude and they both turned to smile at me. I watched them in half-interest for a few moments. My eyes widened slightly at the sight of a clear tub before me that appeared to be filled to the brim with biscuits and brownies. My stomach was tumultuously aching for food at this point and I dizzily tried to recount what I'd eaten in the past week. I'd had a few bites of appetizers on Christmas Eve and breakfast at Hogwarts before I'd left for my manor… Some turnips at some point… Mashed potatoes last Tuesday. Perhaps Granger was right. Maybe I didn't eat real food.

"What are these?" I asked casually, tapping the box. Certainly I was hungry but I wasn't about to act like Won Won Weasley and jump into the sweets as though they could save my life.

The Muggles exchanged worried glances again. "Those are treats I baked with Hermione. We gave most away to the neighbors and we were fixing to bring them to the office. We're not very big on sweets in this house. I'm sure you know that!" laughed Mrs. Muggle. I laughed falsely, still eying the box of cookies. "Hermione's always giving us a hard time. If you'd like one, please go ahead, Draco. But do remember to floss your teeth today—"

"Twice a day, every day," butted in Mr. Muggle.

"Obviously," said Mrs. Muggle a bit tersely.

What freaks. I ignored them for a moment, popping open the tub and selecting a large brownie. I didn't normally go for sweets but I was certain if I did not eat something within the next ten seconds, I'd faint. Mrs. Muggle set down a cup of tea in front of me and I thanked her, being sure to use a napkin to gather chocolaty crumbs off my face. Even if these were Muggles, I needed to look reputable. They needed to know that Pureblooded wizards had esteemed manners and were above them on the food chain. She sat down across from me and took a sip of her own tea. She set it down and then made a very parental expression of concern.

"Why is it you haven't been eating, Draco?" she asked in a way that suggested it was meant to be falsely casual but I tell you, she was awful at deceit.

"Dear, leave him be," chided Mr. Muggle, but he also looked interested.

I waved them away languidly. "Oh, it's alright. It isn't too big of a deal. My mother has been rather upset this holiday as my father is… well, he's away for the time being. Mother did not want to go to the trouble of having a big Christmas dinner. I think it would have made her too sad," I said carelessly in a lofty voice. I'd already finished the brownie and felt even hungrier than before. I grabbed out a frosted Christmas cookie shaped like a reindeer. "She was not really up to eating much and I was too tired to really make an effort to get my own food." I bit the reindeer's head off delicately. "This is delicious—"

"Too tired?" asked Mrs. Muggle, sipping her tea again. She looked very much like she might cry. I wondered if she had something in her eyes.

"Yes, I do not sleep much. I'm much too busy with my…school work," I shrugged before dabbing my face with a napkin and grabbing yet another brownie. I was positively famished. It seemed all of my gusto for eating pussy and getting laid had momentarily been transferred into devouring food.

The Muggles looked at each other again. I was realizing that unlike my prat classmates, cold-hearted friends and stupid professors, these naïve Muggles seemed truly worried about my well-being. I could make these thick people care about me AND serve me food to boot. Aside from my sex life, this was the most fun I'd had in ages. I wondered what else I could get them to do.

…

"What is that thing?" I inquired curiously several minutes later as Mrs. Muggle stuck a package of bangers into what appeared to be a cube with a window on it. She punched a few buttons, the thing beeped, and the sausages began to whir about on a circular platter.

"Why, it's a microwave!" she said amusedly. "Don't tell me you've never seen one before!"

"Never," I said, trying to hide my awe. I didn't want to let on I was deeply interested. "What's it doing?"

She laughed, apparently delighted at my astonishment. It probably wasn't every day someone deemed their house fascinating. "It's de-frosting them—how do you thaw food at your home?"

"I don't thaw anything," I replied crisply, sipping my tea and lounging against the wall comfortably. "We have elves that do that."

The Muggles must have really liked that comment, because they burst into laughter. "Elves?" burst out Mr. Muggle. "You have elves?"

"Granger—er—Hermione hasn't told you? She's a bit sweet on them. She tried to start this club called 'SPOOTE' or something like that where she tried to convince the entire school to feel sorry for house elves even though they're the stupidest creatures aside from gnomes. She knitted all these little things for them and made buttons and everything. It was quite funny," I said with a laugh.

"She never told us!" Mr. Muggle replied with a chuckle, grabbing out the sausages and throwing them into a pan on the stove. They immediately begun sizzling and cracking. My mouth watered at the scent. At this point, I'd had a few more cookies and made a mental note to tell Granger she was well-suited for baking and should think about giving me cookies more often. Speaking of Granger, I wondered if she'd ever rise from bed. I was torn between wanting to see her and hoping I could make a clean getaway. I really did not want to tell the girl I was shagging I'd given up all reason in order to get a decent meal. But I figured she'd be happy I was being such a wonderful guest to her extremely dweeby parents.

"There are actual gnomes?" questioned Mr. Muggle.

"Gnomes?" said Mrs. Muggle excitedly.

"Oh yes," I said idly, getting up and observing the various appliances. "But they aren't how you think they should be. Muggles have it all wrong. They're not cute. They're squashed-looking and disgusting. They're pests."

"So, Draco, do you live in the same quarters as Hermione? Gryffindor, is it?" Mrs. Muggle inquired from the sink. She was washing dishes and suddenly flipped a switch on the wall that caused an enormous crackling sound from the depths of the sink.

"No, I'm in the quarters for the advanced students. In Slytherin," I said quickly, crossing over to stand beside her. "What was that thing? Why did it make that sound?"

"It's the garbage disposal, you have to be careful not to put your hands in the drain or else you could get badly hurt—" began Mrs. Muggle as I leaned over the sink and flipped the switch again. The rumbling sound occurred again and I looked at her with an excited expression. I flipped it on and off again and again.

"What's all the noise?" yawned Granger, emerging from the staircase. Her hair was a bit better managed but she was wearing a fuzzy blue robe and what appeared to be cat-shaped slippers. She looked so comical that I laughed aloud.

Granger stopped in her tracks. "Malf—what—you—I thought—" she stammered, looking from me to her parents and back again.

"Good morning, Hermione," I greeted with a large smile. "I came by a bit earlier than we'd planned and your parents have been nice enough to amuse me." I made eye contact with her and winked.

"Yes, Draco's been telling us a bit about Hogwarts and it's so cute that he's never seen a microwave before—or anything for that matter. It's like our house is a museum!" trilled Mrs. Muggle. A museum? My, was this really going to her head or what!

Granger's facial expression darkened. "Well, Draco," she began icily, "thank you so much for gracing my family with your presence but I'm sure it's time for you to go. I bet you're needed at home—"

"Hermione, where are your manners?" asked Mr. Muggle, wearing a concerned expression as he stirred a batch of scrambled eggs.

"Yes, Hermione, is everything okay?" I asked sweetly.

"Draco, may I talk to you?" she asked, crossing her arms. I stayed in my position leaning against the counter.

I shrugged. "You may," I said casually.

"In the living room?" she snapped.

"I'm sure it can wait for your study session," said Mr. Muggle.

Granger gave me a shadowy look. "Study session," she repeated dully. "Oh. Right."

"Breakfast is just about ready. Draco's joining us. Isn't that great? It's so nice to visit with one of your friends, Hermione—"

"And he's very polite," said Mrs. Granger, lightly touching my arm and smiling. "No offense, dear, but those other boys you know are a bit standoffish. Kind of immature. Draco just came right in and made himself at home, and talked to us like we were real people—"

"Oh did you, Draco?" said Granger with a tight-lipped smile.

I was beginning to realize she was not amused at all but this somehow made it even funnier. Even the Muggles loathed Potthead and Won Won! "I did," I replied in a very genial voice. "Of course, it was easy. Your parents are very nice."

Granger's eyes narrowed into slits. "But now you have to be going. Isn't that right?"

Mrs. Muggle grabbed Granger and pulled her aside, whispering into her ear in a loud tone that I had no trouble hearing. "Hermione, why are you being so cruel? Your little friend has been starving. His mother is a wreck and he can't find his father. Lord knows what that even means—they likely got skipped out on and the mother just doesn't want to ruin his holiday. He didn't even have Christmas dinner! It seems you've woken up on the wrong side of the bed but you need to find it in your heart to be courteous to our guest!"

I stifled a laugh as Mr. Muggle was right next to me, instead making a strange choked coughing noise.

"Okay, Mum," said Granger with a begrudging facial expression. As soon as Mrs. Muggle had crossed the kitchen to set the table, Granger fixed me with an evil glower that might even put Pansy to shame. 'Get. Out,' she mouthed at me.

'Make. Me,' I lipped back and then headed back to the table. "It smells delicious in here, Mr. Granger. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Oh, Draco, you can just sit back and relax. Breakfast will be ready soon," said Mr. Muggle in a kind tone.

I scooted back into the nook and leaned back, smiling at Granger from across the kitchen. "Why don't you join me, Gr—Hermione?" I patted the seat next to me and smirked. "We can sit together just like we do when we study in our favorite tea shop."

Granger's face burned red and she was about to speak when her mother grabbed her arm. "Hermione," she said, "please pour Draco another cup of tea and get out the silverware."

I covered my mouth to keep from laughing as Granger slammed the tea pot down on the table and scowled at me. 'You are dead', she mouthed.

'I'm very scared,' I sneered at her.

. . .

"Would you like more eggs, Draco?" asked Mrs. Muggle.

"No, he's fine," Granger quickly said. "Draco, I think I heard rapping on the window. Perhaps it's your owl! Maybe your mother is trying to get you home!"

I ignored Granger and smiled at her mother. "No thank you, Mrs. Granger, though they were delicious," I replied in the extremely polite tone I'd perfected over the course of the hour, "but if I could, another banger?"

"Of course, Draco!" Mr. Muggle said. "Hermione, you're on the outside—do you mind getting Draco another sausage from the pan?"

I grinned at her as she frowned but dutifully got up and served me what I'd asked for. This was altogether too fantastic especially since to the Muggles it looked like I was the very picture of delightful.

"Thank you ever so much!" I exclaimed pleasantly as she tossed a banger onto my dish, almost flopping it on the table in the process.

Granger was breathing heavily as though she might set aflame with rage and had hardly touched her breakfast. On the contrary, I'd enjoyed two pancakes, a good sized helping of eggs and what was about to be three thick sausages on top of the various sweets I'd consumed prior. I felt warm and settled as if all was right in the world. Not to mention, the table dialogue was so utterly hilarious that I had to remember my depressing home life in order to not burst into guffaws. So far, we'd discussed Granger's lack of friends in the neighborhood, her obsession with perfection and her not-so-secret crush on some American Muggle actor whose name sounded vaguely like "Decrapio" to which she stormily said she wasn't a fan of his anymore.

"Draco, have you had dental work? Or—" Mr. Muggle stopped and thought for a moment. "Or, I suppose Hermione's told us wizards don't use dentists, but that they have certain spells that can be performed at a sort-of hospital?"

I nodded. "At hospital, or else you can try it out for yourself. Hermione was actually one of the lucky ones—she could have ended up with even crazier teeth than she started with," I said lightly. Her parents tittered. "But her teeth look great now," I added, by way of acting like I was a kind friend of their daughter's. Granger huffed and rolled her eyes. "I have not had any work done myself."

"Yes, we're a bit skeptical about it, I suppose," put in Mr. Muggle, pouring us all more tea. "But my point is, your teeth are rather perfect—"

"Good genes," I said with a grin. Granger elbowed me in the side.

"Haha! Well, you are one of the lucky ones," Mrs. Muggle laughed. "Our poor Hermione. She was so self-conscious—"

Granger was rocking back and forth as I was attempting to contain my glee.

"And your teeth are so white!" complimented Mr. Muggle, leaning forward to further inspect. "You must have great oral hygiene!"

"Yes," I replied solemnly. "I care an awful lot about maintaining great oral and Hermione can attest to that. It's one of the things I am best at. Right, Hermione?"

Granger made a tiny squeak and whipped around.

I did my best to look confused. "What?! You're always making fun of me for how much I enjoy brushing and flossing."

"Do you have any other funny stories about Hermione, Draco? She doesn't say hardly enough about school, though we ask millions of questions!" asked Mr. Muggle and grinned at his daughter. "Draco told us all about the house elves and how you're their biggest fan—"

"Oh, did he?" asked Granger hotly.

"I did," I nodded and wiggled my eyebrows at her. I turned back to the Muggles. "Of course, my favorite Hermione moments are when she can't help but wave her hand back and forth in class. At least, it starts that way but before you know it, she stands up fully and starts jumping up and down until she's called upon," I grinned, sprawling against the wall lazily and touching Granger's leg lightly with the toe of my boot. "She just always has to have the right answer!"

"Don't we know it!" laughed Mrs. Muggle. "Why, when she was in primary school—" at my expression she paused—"that's a sort of starter school for small children, Draco. Anyway, in primary school, she used to cry if she couldn't answer first. It was rather funny the first few times but she was soon nicknamed Her-whiny—"

"MUM!" Granger burst out but I was positively dying with loud laughter. I had to pound the table and breathe hard to get my bearings. Her parents beamed.

"Did Draco also tell you about the time he was morphed into a ferret?" asked Granger sharply, kicking me hard in the shin. I tried to mask a glare.

The Muggles looked at each other. "A ferret?" burst out Mr. Muggle, sounding horrified. "How? Why?"

"Because some jumped up professor had it out for me," I said sulkily. I glared icily at Granger, stabbed the sausage and pushed it into my mouth.

She giggled slightly and shook her head. "That wasn't exactly it. You were acting like a fool and he caught you." She turned to her parents, gesturing wildly and really getting into the story. "He was bounced up and down in midair, it was quite a funny sight! Some of us wished he'd have stayed like that forever! He made the most adorable little rodent!" She cast me a sly smile.

The Muggles burst into chuckles but I narrowed my eyes at her. "Funny, was it?" I asked, faking a chuckle. "You know what else is funny? How you could barely mount a broom in first year. Of course, now you're quite good at mounting most things," I finished with a straight face.

Granger's mouth fell open and her eyes widened. "You-!"

"Oh, do you still have broom flying class then, Hermione?" asked her mother innocently.

"Draco's the one who's an excellent flyer," Granger said quickly and she had a frightening fake smile on her face. "He's the only seeker who's come close to being as skilled as Harry!"

I raised my eyebrows. Despite the lie that Potter was a more talented Seeker than I, it was interesting hearing Granger compliment my flying skills. Clearly, she did notice me—

"But obviously," she went on, "he'll never be as good as Harry at anything. That's an unfair comparison," she said with a shrug. My mouth dropped open. She wore a very well-maintained look of sympathy. "Harry makes everyone look terrible! I can't imagine how it feels to have lost nearly every match to him, Draco. And especially when your father donated so much of his hard-earned money to the Slytherin team—"

How dare she lie about Potter. I was clearly better than him in every aspect. I swung one leg over the other and flipped my bangs out of my eyes, leaning even further against the back wall. "Hermione, I hate to trouble you but do you think you could get up and fetch me more food?" I asked.

"Are you sure?" said Hermione in a false cheerful tone and kicked me again.

"Hermione!" exclaimed Mrs. Muggle. Under the watch of her parents, Granger sighed and rose up to her feet.

I pushed my plate across the table. "You know, on second thought I'd better not. I couldn't eat another bite. It was so delicious, Mr. Granger."

Granger made a strangled sort of noise in her throat, crossed her arms and dropped back beside me. I mimicked her by crossing my own arms and smirked at her. She sighed loudly.

"I have to say," began Mrs. Muggle with an amused smile, "you two are just too sweet together." Granger and I gave each other the exact same wide-eyed expression. "Hermione, why haven't you told us about Draco?"

"Uhm… we—er—we don't exactly socialize much—"

"We're definitely more study buddy friends than close friends," I added quickly. I rather hoped that her mother didn't think we were sweet because she assumed we were dating. That would be horrifying. Imagine me, Draco Malfoy, stooping so low as to date a Mudblood. Especially one as officious and obnoxious as Granger! And even if Granger wasn't a Muggle-born, she'd be wrong for me. She had dreadful fashion sense, awful friends and the frizziest mountain of hair I'd ever lay eyes on. I had standards.

"Draco, you hereby have my permission to visit anytime you'd like. I've never seen Hermione engage so much with a person who isn't a character in a book. It's like you two have worked out a comedy routine!" Mrs. Muggle grinned.

"Yes, Draco, this has been a really funny breakfast. Very out of the ordinary for us. It's nice to have someone as outgoing as you here! Plates everyone?" Mr. Muggle asked and he and Mrs. Muggle began to clean up the table.

I sneered triumphantly at Granger and she drew in a breath. "You're going to get it," she said quietly. As soon as her parents looked back at us, we both smiled innocently.