“You’re going to be… what?” Blaise demanded, sitting upright.

“Working for Granger and her elves,” Draco mumbled depressingly.

“Come off it,” he scoffed.

“Blaise, I’m serious. Why would I even joke about this?”

“Because it’s insane! There’s no way you’d willingly do that!”

“Believe me, it’s not willingly. Any idea how to make murder seem like an accident?” he questioned hopefully.

Blaise grinned. “You could always say the elves formed some kind of cult and killed her…” He paused, and said, “Then again, now that I think about it they might kill themselves in the process of choking on all that hair… But,” his smile turned serious as he shifted around in his seat, reaching for another ham sandwich, “I’m still having trouble seeing how you agreed to this. I mean, they’re probably the two things you hate most in the world, house elves and Granger, and there are a lot of things you hate, mate.”

“Not true,” he disagreed, watching him chew hungrily into the sandwich. “I hate Potter more than her, but she is definitely near the top of my most hated list.”

“Exactly,” he said, swallowing his food. “So why did you agree?”

“Well… wouldn’t you if your family was in the state mine is? It’s horrible Blaise; I’m the one who’s supposed to do the snickering and humiliating, not everyone else. The other day I was actually snarled at by that Justin Finch-Fletchley bloke for Merlin’s sake, and he’s a Mudblood! A Mudblood was acting as though he were above me! Can you image the atrocity?”

Blaise let out a low whistle. “Why didn’t you just hex the little bugger?”

“I wanted to!” he exclaimed. “But that would only give the Daily Prophet more dirt on my family. I can imagine the headline now:” Draco put on a deep announcement voice, “‘Youngest Malfoy, Just How Dangerous is He to You and Your Family?’”

Blaise sighed, shoving the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth. “So how long ya gotta work for ‘er?” he munched.

He shuddered. “Twelve months.”

He swallowed again. “Yeah, see, just what I thought. Twelve’s not long – wait, hang on. A year? You failed to mention that.”

“Not something I want to be reminded of.” He leaned back against the sofa, picked up a pillow, and covered his face with it.

“I don’t think smothering yourself is the answer,” Blaise said, amused.

“I fink itis,” his voice muffled.

“I disagree. What’s Ophelia like anyway? She really worth all this?”

“Waff I’m dozzen ifent or ‘er.”

“Take the pillow out, then talk,” advised Blaise.

With an agitated groan, Draco slid the silky pink pillow from his face, letting it rest on his lap. “I said, what I’m doing isn’t for her. I don’t care about who I marry, I just want my respect back and she’s the answer.”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “You realise you’ll be stuck with her for life?”

Draco furrowed his brows in thought. “Well… not necessarily.”

“Yes, you will. If people hear about you sneaking around her back –”

“I could just pay to keep everything quiet.”

Blaise frowned, but did not look convinced. “I guess. But you know those kind of things never do stay quiet. Someone could offer the chick twice as much as you paid her to keep quiet.”

Draco shot him a dark look. “Must you always be such a downer? I have to work for Granger for a year whilst no woman will want me, and then I have to marry some blonde I don’t even know, and then once women do want me I won’t be able to have them. So in other words; my sex life is over, which basically means my life is over.” He rubbed his eyes in frustration and repeated, “My life is literally over.”

Blaise opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted when the door opened, followed by the rustling of plastic bags, before it closed again.

Blaise and Draco exchanged glances.

“Who’s –?”

“Draco!” Narcissa called, her voice and the sound of bags crinkling growing nearer with every word. “I brought you some new robes for work, shoes, hair essentials, more apples, and you never told me…” She entered the living room and placed bags on top of the pillow still resting in Draco’s lap, smiled once at Blaise who returned it through a new mouthful of bread, and looked down at her son expectantly. “You said she gave you the job. How did she react when you mentioned living with her?”

Blaise choked loudly on his sandwich and Draco patted his back, somewhat grateful for the small distraction of this particular subject..

“Mother, could you get him some water –?”

“Oh, no you don’t.” She put her hands on her hips. “He’ll be fine. But I can’t say the same for you. You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“I, uh, well…” His patting on Blaise’s back hardened and he started to flinch as Draco struggled, at a loss for words to change her mind. “You can’t be serious about that part… can you?” Draco asked timidly. “She’s filth mother, how can you expect me to, not only work for her, but to live with her? After everything you and Father have taught me about –?”

“I did tell your father,” she interrupted, “and it wasn’t pleasant at first, but he did see reason. If it looks as though you’ve befriended her and you’re no longer prejudice towards anything we consider ‘below’ us, then it’ll convince Ms. Hopkins. As much as you might hate it Draco –”

“I do hate it.”

“– the Granger girl is part of the plan.”

“But I hate her! What if I get driven into insanity from –?”

“You won’t be driven insane –”

“Or what if she kills me –?”

“She won’t kill you –”

“Or what if I kill her –?”

“If you kill her, I’ll kill you –”

“Or what if –?”

“Or what if you kill Blaise!” Blaise cried, roughly shoving Draco’s hand away and rubbing his back with a pained expression. “Christ Draco, I’m going to have a bruise there forever!”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Would you rather I let you choke?”

“I stopped choking ages ago!”

“Oh, well forgive me for –”

“Stop it,” Narcissa ordered, and then rounding on Draco, “You’re going to march straight over to her office –”

“Right now?” he demanded incredulously.

“Yes, right now, and you’re going to tell her you’ll be living together.”

“What if she’s already got a roommate?” he asked, trying and not succeeding to keep the hopeful tone from his voice.

Narcissa’s cheeks suddenly went a faint pink. “Your father… he, well, jinxed the position. No one will go and see her about it unless it’s you. Which it will be.”

“What?”

“So, off you go. Take Blaise with you, if you’d prefer.”

“But –”

“Now!” she said angrily. “I'm a little fed up with your attitude, Draco. This is important.”

Grumbling under his breath, Draco and Blaise stood, and walked to their doom.

***

“What do you mean she’s not in her office? I only saw her yesterday! It’s not as though she actually leaves work!”

Bun Woman’s eyes drifted over to her quill. Draco wondered if she was considering stabbing someone with it. The only question was, was she going to stab herself or him or both?

“Miss. Granger had a meeting and won’t be back until five.”

“You mean to say, they actually have meetings for house elves?” said Blaise, voicing Draco’s own surprised thoughts.

Bun Woman regarded him coldly. “And just who are you, if I may ask?”

“Blaise Zabini.”

“He’s a friend,” Draco added when she quirked up a barely visible eyebrow.

“I see,” was all she replied with before she turned her attention to the parchment before her. Now it was Draco who was debating whether or not to snatch the quill from her hand and stab one of them.

“Look,” he leaned down on the desk, “I just need to see Granger for a split second and I’ll be gone.”

“One can only hope,” she muttered.

Pulling away, Draco ran a hand though his hair and gave Blaise a ‘help me’ look. He shrugged with a glance around their surroundings, and then abruptly smirked deviously and walked closer to the desk.

“If you don’t tell us exactly where Granger is, Draco and I will run through the office claiming that…” he looked closer to the paper she was scrolling on, his smirk widening, “that Tully the house elf was in fact really eating those slippers.”

She finally did look up. “And just how do you expect people to believe you?”

“Draco and I are very well acquainted with Mr. Nott, and we know he’ll help us out. There are plenty more house elves where that came from.”

She stared. “This is very far fetched.”

“Well then,” Blaise walked away deliberately slowly, “I suppose you won’t care if that’s exactly what we do.” He opened his mouth to yell, and even though Draco had no idea what he was talking about, Bun Woman most certainly did, for her eyes narrowed.

“Fine! She’s on the thirteenth floor, down the first hallway, to the left, and through the fourth door.”

“Thank you,” he said, sounding all too pleased with himself.

They took off, and Draco was unable to stop himself from glancing cautiously behind them; he wouldn’t have been very surprised from the dirty look she shot them if Bun Woman changed her mind and then tackled them. Fortunately, they made it straight up the marble stairs unharmed, pushing past workers, to the elevator, and impatiently slammed down on the button.

“What was that about?” Draco asked him. “With Tully?”

“Oh, something Theodore once told me ages ago. He didn’t mention anything?”

“You know very well we don’t speak, Blaise,” he said harshly.

“Right. Sorry, I forget sometimes, you know…” He looked uncomfortable. “Well, when he got his own place, unfortunately custody of Tully came with it. She was always his house elf, and he’s never really liked her, you’d remember, and don’t let Granger hear you saying this, but she’s without a doubt the most annoying, vile elf I’ve ever met. Last time I talked to him, he was desperate to get rid of her, but she likes her job and won’t work for anyone else.”

“Why?” he asked, stepping out of the lift with Blaise and carrying on down the hall.

He shrugged. “Who knows? Elves mate, enough said. Anyway, she has a habit of… well; we think she does, of eating slippers. They mysteriously disappear all the time, but none of us have been able to prove it and Theo’s really growing impatient about it all.” Blaise hesitated. “So there’s been no interaction between –?”

Draco had just turned to the left. With eyes fixed on the fourth door, he cut Blaise off. “Mate, I think I ought to go in there myself. I’ll be quick, run through and then out again. I really hate it here,” he added at his friend’s questioning look.

Blaise clucked his tongue. “Better get used to it.”

“Thanks for your sympathy.” He took a breath to prepare himself, and pushed open the door carelessly, letting it slam behind him.

Twenty-nine unfamiliar faces glanced up with a start from the noisy sound of Draco’s arrival. The thirtieth face however, he knew very well. It only took him a few moments longer than it usually would for Draco to spot her; her wild hair was tied back in a ponytail today and slightly more presentable.

He went towards her, noticing that the middle-aged man, standing at the front of the room had his hands in the air as if he were doing some serious hand gestures, glared at him. Because he knew who Draco was or because he had interrupted his speech, Draco didn’t know. He sped up quickly to her, knowing that if he didn’t hurry, the twenty-nine people would come to their senses and kick him out.

Draco saw to his satisfaction that Granger looked positively horrified and embarrassed, her cheeks a bright red as he leaned down to her.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded furiously in a low voice, her eyes anxiously darting to her co-workers or whatever they were.

“Shush,” he snapped, snatching the quill from her hand and messily writing, purposely in very large letters all over the paperwork she had, the message Draco had came all this way to tell her.

We’re now roomies.

I expect there to be apples when I arrive.

Ta.

And then he was leaving very quickly out of the deadly silent room before she could go on her full rage at him, meeting Blaise just out the hall and pushing him along hurriedly; not at all missing the way he tried not to wince when Draco touched his ‘bruised back’.

“How’d she react?” he asked, looking back to the door. “It must’ve been better than expected because you were only gone for –”

“DRACO MALFOY!”

“Run,” Draco said urgently.

________________________________________

Next chapter; hahah, he's in trouble now. HOW WILL DRACO ESCAPE THE WRATH OF HERMIONE GRANGER? Da da dumm!