Evermore

IV.

Draco paced around the dining room like a caged tiger. He couldn't believe that he was being stood up in his own house! It's been three days since Granger had locked herself up in the Gold Room. And she hasn't come out since. Although he had instructed his elves to never send her any food unless she left her room, he was sure that Tinder had purposely turned a deaf ear on him and was slipping her daily meals.

That's what you get for hiring house elves who think they know better than you! Tinder had been with the family since his great, great grandfather had been in diapers, so he had grown as arrogant as his masters. After the war, he and his mother had decided to free all of their house elves. A few left, but the majority remained, not really having anywhere to go. His mother took pity and let them stay on the condition that they would each receive a galleon for every month of service (that's as much as the house elves were willing to take, anything more and they would start banging their heads on the floor).

Tinder, being the eldest and wisest (and sassiest, he scoffed), was more like the majordomo. He's never really openly defied Draco, but he had a way of circumventing his master's wishes to align them more with his own. However, since the old elf's ways were usually much better than his, Draco never complained.

Until now. Tinder was spoiling his plans of making Granger's life miserable. He must be made to realize that Granger was not a friend, but an enemy. Or a former enemy, at least, but still not a friend! One would think that she was the new mistress of Malfoy Manor with the way the ancient elf fawned after her. He'd been like that ever since Granger had regained consciousness after being blasted away by the Manor's wards. The old elf seemed to have taken a shine on the 'helpless' girl.

Hah! Helpless? He could think of a thousand words to describe Granger but 'helpless' would not be one of them. Draco's fingers graced his nose, unhappily recalling the punch that Granger had given him on their third year at Hogwarts. Helpless my arse, he snorted.

He had put his foot down tonight. He ordered Tinder (threatened him with dismissal, actually) to inform 'Mistress' Hermione (that's how Tinder referred to her now) that she must have dinner with him or he'd be forced to let her starve. Tinder returned, red-faced, with a note from Hermione saying that she'd rather starve than eat with him.

The nerve of that twit!

"Master, food is getting cold," Mimsy whispered beside him.

He scowled down at the elf, his mind too preoccupied with thoughts of Granger that he did not notice Mimsy trembling as she took a tentative step away from him.

What's she trying to prove by hiding inside that room? Aren't Gryffindors supposed to be brimming with bravado?

Bravado...bravery...

He smirked as he started to formulate a devious plan to flush out the Gryffette. Without a word, he stalked away and headed for the East wing.

Let's see if you're a true Gryffindor at heart, Granger!

The house elves cleaning the chandelier in the hallway looked at each other, scratching their heads as they followed their Master's progress. Never before had they seen him walk with such a bounce in his step. And humming, too!
Draco stopped in front of the ornate door of the Gold Room and knocked.
No answer. He knocked again - louder this time.

"The door's open, Fifi," came the cheerful voice from within.

Aha! So...she's on friendly terms with Fifi, eh?

He wasn't really surprised by that. Granger's always been kind to the Hogwarts house elves. She'd even tried to free them all one time, darned bleeding heart! Good thing all his house elves were there of their own volition, otherwise, he might find himself in the middle of a mutiny!