AUTHOR'S NOTE:I know. I know. It's been awhile. I don't even have an excuse, man. But here you go! DISCLAIMER:I hereby swear I don't own any HP related materials, characters, etc. I don't even own half of the plot due to the excessive amount of intentional clichés.

Where you left off: Everyone's favorite badass, Draco Malfoy, needs some ICE for that BURN. Having given Hermione the task of finding him a date, he now finds himself at the Company Ball, set up with a handsome male bartender named SAMMY. (Cheers reference anybody?) Let's see what unfolds next…

Chapter 11: The Company Ball; part two: Raid & Rescue.

Draco adjusted the collar of his tuxedo. His thoughts were racing faster with each footstep towards Hermione. This was embarrassing. A Malfoy was not going to be seen in publicly with a man-date. Yes, there has been some recent social-acceptability of the "Bro-mance" concept. But this …this, my friend, was not Laguna Beach or whatever that crap is. It is the Malfoy reputation – which until now included infamous seduction of countless gorgeous witches.

Draco walked towards Sammy and Hermione, stopping to shake the man's hand politely. "There has been some sort of misunderstanding, you see."

Sammy raised an eyebrow.

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Draco continued.

"I'm straight. I'm not into other men. I would not sleep with one on a boat. I would not sleep with one near a goat. I would not do it with a man… I would not do that, Sam I am."

(Insert prolonged and awkward silence, in which Draco gets back into character).

"My colleague" he motioned to Hermione "is clearly incompetent. Come, Granger. Nice to meet you, Sammy." Draco grabbed Hermione forcefully by the upper arm and pulled her towards a secluded area near a cluster of senile old men, smoking cigars.

"Malfoy, sod off. Get your own date next time. I am off to find mine." She shoved him roughly, as he teetered dangerously on the brink of losing balance. He watched Granger retreat back to the masses and eventually Viktor Krum.

Draco shuffled, quickly, to find Zabini who was talking up a corporate bigwig. "Pardon me. I need to talk to Mr. Zabini in private. Thank you."

"What's wrong with you?"

Draco pointed at Krum furiously, to which Zabini retorted "I thought you didn't care."

Draco, who allegedly didn't care: I don't care. I just want his autograph. I'm a fan.

Zabini who knew better: LOL! WTF! YEAH RIGHT, BRAH.

Draco, a little disgusted: Wow, never talk like that again.

Meanwhile, in Azkaban, a lot of convicts escaped.

Meanwhile, at the Corporate Ball, Draco caught a glimpse of Krum kissing Granger's neck and felt a surge of violence course through his body.

Meanwhile, in the arms of Quiddich Pro extraordinaire; Viktor Krum, Hermione Granger was scanning the room for her boss.

Meanwhile, several ex Death Eaters (yes, the escapees from Azkaban) with a vengeance against the Malfoy name heard wind of the Corporate Ball and decided, hey, why not crash it?

Dolohov and a relative of Crabbe's, specifically, were out for blood. They broke into a shop in Diagon Alley and commandeered some flashy dress robes/tuxedos. They looked nice. The Crabbe fellow was first to approach the door.

"Name please?" said the Bellhop.

Crabbe froze. He said the first thing he thought of. "Uhh… I'm… Jeremy, and this here is, well… John. We're brothers from Vermont, we have an emerging maple syrup conglomerate."

The bellhop looked skeptical. "I've seen that movie Wedding Crashers, you know."

Dolohov pushed his oaf of a friend to the side. "Bugger. Fine. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A green light flashed. Dolohov sprinted into the ballroom and cast a dark mark above the stage where the orchestra was playing. The violinist looked horrified and fainted.

"WE ARE HERE TO AVENGE LORD VOLDEMORT." shouted Dolohov to the crowd. Several people laughed – it seemed so ridiculous. "CRUCIO!" A waiter fell down in writhing pain, from Crabbe's wand. "Mudbloods, we will find you. And we will finish what our Master failed to do."

Dolohov whispered something to Crabbe and motioned towards Hermione, having recognized her from the war. Crabbe knocked over several chairs en route to the girl and grabbed her firmly by the waist with his wand to her neck. Dolohov grabbed another. They apparated quickly with their hostages. Pop. Pop.

Draco Malfoy's heart was beating even faster than it was at the start of this chapter. He sprinted up to Zabini and the not-so-straight bartender. "We need to find Hermione."

"Only if you admit you care." Blaise insisted.

"No. That's not practical, let's go, NOW."

"Admit it."

"No…" he paused, briefly reconsidering "Maybe for five sickles."

"No, you pansy. Own up to it."

"Fine. I sort of care."

"That so hard?"

"More than you'll ever know."

And so, they set forth on a magical adventure…

TO BE CONTINUED. [insert suspenseful music].

Mwuaha. Finally updated. I realize this chapter is a little jumbled. I threw a lot of random stuff in here so it's probably crap. I also have to add a disclaimer that I do not own the line from Wedding Crashers about the Maple Syrup business. Props to you, Vince Vaughn. You rock.

Anyway – the next chapter'll be a continuation of the clichéd rescue. But leave ideas for future clichés after that. I update more when I have ideas to work with. 

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