CHAPTER SEVEN: WHAT THE CHEESE IS GOING ON HERE?

[modlyrobin]

Author: scarlettcat_5
Beta: dormiensa
A/N: none



Hermione was usually an early riser, but on this particular morning, she was having trouble getting out of bed. She felt so warm and cozy with Crookshanks cuddled up to her. In her slumberous state, she petted his soft fur, half-wondering when her cat had gotten a perm. However, as she continued to stroke his silky fur, instead of his usual loud purring, she heard a low moan that didn't sound at all cat-like. Opening one bleary eye, she saw the familiar ginger fur and relaxed again. Until the ginger furball started pawing her. With human hands!

Her eyes snapped open, giving her a very good look at the half-naked man lying next to her. “Malfoy?”

“Are you preg-” began Draco with a yawn until he was interrupted by his face hitting the floor. “Ow! What the bloody hell?”

“Oh, my God!” cried Hermione in shock, standing on the bed, clutching the sheets around her. “Did we sleep together?”

“Well, I think we did a little more than sleeping,” Draco drawled, propping himself up on his elbows and giving her an impish wink.

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”

“That's what you said last night,” said Draco, grinning obnoxiously.

“What on earth is going on here?” Hermione muttered, completely confused. “The last thing I remember is eating an entire cheese platter alone in my hotel room after finally coming to the realization the Ron was never going to marry me.”

“You wanted to marry that red-haired buffoon?” Draco asked jealously. Then, remembering his own unsightly ginger body hair, he quickly picked up his discarded clothing off the floor and put them on to cover up his shame.

Ignoring him, Hermione said, “This can't be real. Maybe it's just indigestion from eating all of that cheese.” Letting out a not-quite delicate burp, she looked down at Draco in disappointment. “You're still here.”

“Have you been drinking?” asked Draco, giving her a funny look.

Hermione began pacing anxiously on the bed, trying to puzzle out how she could have possibly ended up in bed with Malfoy. Maybe she had been drinking. She never could hold her liquor. Funny, the only thing she could remember from last night was the cheese platter. Malfoy must not be very good in bed. “Just my luck you're in Fiji, too,” Hermione grumbled.

Now, Draco looked confused. “Fiji?”

“We are in Fiji, aren't we?” asked Hermione, starting to get a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“No. We're in Britain on a pirate ship. At an amusement park you designed to help bridge the Muggle and wizarding worlds.”

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She looked at Draco for a long while before she finally burst out laughing. “You can't be serious. Did the twins put you up to this?”

“Look for yourself,” said Draco, nodding his head toward the window. “Today's the grand opening.”

Warily, Hermione walked over and stuck her head out the porthole. What she saw amazed her. Sure enough, it was a giant amusement park, complete with rides and concessions and everything. “Are those Death Eaters driving Muggles around in golf carts?” she asked incredulously. “How could the Ministry approve such a scheme?”

Draco shrugged. “I don't know. It was your idea.”

“It was not my idea. I mean, an amusement park? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of,” Hermione scoffed. “I've been on holiday in Fiji.”

“No, you haven't.”

“Yes, I have.”

“Maybe you're just having Opening Day jitters. Or... maybe you're pregnant.” His eyes lit up at the idea.

“I feel sick,” said Hermione miserably, sitting down on the bed.

“Ooh, that's a definite sign of pregnancy,” said Draco excitedly.

“I am not pregnant!” Hermione snapped. “I'm confused, and I have no idea what's going on here.”

“Well, let me refresh your memory. You got the bright idea to build an amusement park to improve relations between wizards and Muggles, but you needed a pirate captain, and apparently, the only one who could do the job was me, although I was in Azkaban-on a technicality, of course. So, you busted me out with some weird wizarding law you found and bribed me into marrying you. Sound familiar?”

“We're married!” Hermione exclaimed, quickly looked down at her ring finger in panic. Breathing a sigh of relief, she waved her ringless finger in his face. “Nice try. You had me going there for a minute.”

“But we did get married,” Draco insisted, frantically searching the room. “You had a ring that made me obey you, but I asked you to remove it, and you did. We consummated it three times just to make sure it worked.”

“Would you stop talking about us consummating? It's making me feel ill. And it's ludicrous that I would have such a ring because I would never enslave anyone. Unlike you, I have morals.”

“But you did,” said Draco, as much to himself as to Hermione. “And it didn't just work on me. It worked on all of the Death Eaters.”

“Then, where is the ring now?” asked Hermione, hands on her hips.

“I don't know. It must be around here somewhere. It... ah, here it is,” said Draco triumphantly, plucking a golden ring from a candy dish on a nearby table.

Hermione snatched the ring out of his hand and did what every young woman of a certain age was prone to do: she slipped it on her finger. It was a pretty little ring. She couldn't help admiring how it looked.

“See? I told you we were married.” Draco smirked.

Coming to her senses, Hermione yanked on the ring. Unfortunately, it was stuck. No matter how hard she pulled, it wouldn't budge, even after multiple attempts at various removal spells. “I don't remember marrying you!”

“You don't remember building an amusement park either, but there it is,” said Draco, gesturing toward the porthole.

“As soon as I get dressed, I'm going straight to the Ministry and filing for divorce,” Hermione snapped, stomping toward the wardrobe.

“You can't divorce me!” Draco exclaimed. “Not until you have my babies.”

“Babies! I'm not having your babies,” Hermione declared adamantly.

“What do you have against babies? Babies are adorable.”

“I don't have anything against babies.” Hermione huffed, rifling through the wardrobe for something decent to put on. “Argh! Why are there only pirate clothes in here?”

“Because you're the pirate queen,” said Draco, as if that made complete sense.

Hermione gritted her teeth. “Of course I am.” She angrily snatched an outfit out of the wardrobe and menacingly pointed her wand at Draco.

Draco gulped. “You're not going to make me walk the plank, are you?”

“No!” Hermione exclaimed exasperatedly. “I just want you to turn around. I'm going to change clothes.”

“Oh. Well, I've already seen everything-”

“Turn around!”

Draco immediately obeyed and then let out a groan.

“What's the matter?” Hermione asked, changing into her pirate costume.

“I turned around.”

“Well, that is the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“But I'm no gentleman. I only did it because I had to obey you. You have complete control over me again.”

Hermione looked at him skeptically. “So, you're saying that you'll do whatever I tell you to do?”

Draco nodded glumly.

“Hop on one foot. Do a jig. Mess up your hair!” She let out a giggle as Draco obeyed her every whim. “Go-”

“Would you knock it off?” Draco growled, glaring at her through his messy bangs. “What happened to you being so moral?”

Hermione blushed. “Oh, sorry. I got a little giddy with power there for a moment. I'll try to control myself.”

“I don't understand why I still have to obey you,” said Draco, flipping through his Ministry pamphlet on marriage laws. “We consummated it three times.”

“Shut up about that!” Hermione ordered.

Draco glared.

“Besides, that wasn't me. I've been in Fiji on holiday. It was my doppelganger or someone Polyjuiced as me or my evil twin or... something.”

“I don't know,” said Draco doubtfully. “It sure seemed like you.”

“Because building a theme park, hiring Death Eaters to drive Muggles around in golf carts, and bribing you to be my husband sounds so much like me,” said Hermione sarcastically.

Draco was about to retort when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who is that?” Hermione hissed worriedly.

Draco looked through the peephole. “I don't see anyone. Ooh, cheese!” he exclaimed excitedly, throwing open the door and grabbing a shining, silver platter filled with glorious cheese. “I thought we lost it all in the cheese riot.”

Hermione peeked out into the hallway but didn't see anyone. Noticing the Daily Prophet on the floor, she picked it up and closed the door. Unrolling it, she gasped at what she saw.

“What is it?” asked Draco distractedly, searching for a knife for the cheese.

“Read this.”

Draco dutifully read the morning's headline. “‘Cheese Wiz Disappears: Where in the World is Diggy Flu?’” Looking at her, he said, “So?”

“Not that,” said Hermione dismissively. “The date. Is this correct?”

“Mmhm,” murmured Draco, still focused on finding a knife.

“But it can't be,” Hermione protested. “I have no recollection of all these days passing. What have I been doing all this time?”

Draco shrugged. “Building an amusement park and getting hitched to yours truly?”

“Maybe it was a Memory Charm,” said Hermione thoughtfully, “or someone Imperiused me or I'm stuck in some bizarre parallel universe...”

“I've got it!” Draco exclaimed.

“You know what happened to me?” Hermione asked excitedly.

“No, I found a knife. For the cheese. Want some?”

Hermione groaned. “I am never eating cheese again.”

“Suit yourself,” said Draco.

As Draco greedily sliced into the cheese, a parrot flew in through the window and landed on his shoulder. “Draco cut the cheese. Squawk! Draco cut the cheese.”

Hermione laughed. “Who's your little friend?”

“Fernando is not my friend. He's a nuisance,” Draco muttered, glaring at the bird on his shoulder.

“I think he's cute,” said Hermione.

Draco turned his attention back to his cheese. “I wish I had some crackers,” he grumbled.

“Draco wants a cracker. Draco wants a cracker,” squawked Fernando.

“Stuff it, Fernando,” said Draco, stuffing a piece of cheese in its beak.

Fernando let out one last squawk and then fell over dead. Draco and Hermione looked down at the bird now lying stiff on the floor in shock.

“What did you do?” Hermione asked accusingly.

“I didn't do anything,” protested Draco. “I just gave him a piece of cheese to shut him up.”

“Well, you shut him up all right.”

As they stared down at the dead bird, it suddenly began changing shape until it finally transformed into a naked man. Hermione took a closer look at the dark-haired, dead man lying on the floor and gasped.

“Do you know him?”

Hermione blushed. “Um, yes, he was the cabana boy at my hotel.”

Draco raised his eyebrow. “You were doing the cabana boy?”

“No!” exclaimed Hermione. “Ron was being a prat and Fernando was... well, quite attentive. We may have walked on the beach at the same time. Around sunset. Holding hands. It may have seemed a tad romantic. I kissed him maybe. Perhaps let him feel me up a bit. But I didn't do him!”

“This is just great!” burst Draco. “Everyone's going to think I killed him in a fit of jealous rage. They'll send me back to Azkaban. This is all your fault.”

“Well, you were the one who killed him,” Hermione pointed out.

“It was an accident!”

“I wonder how he died?”

Draco shrugged and sliced another piece of cheese. “I don't know, but it wasn't because I was jealous of a stupid bird.”

Draco was about to pop the piece of cheese in his mouth when Hermione snatched it away.

Glaring, Draco said, “I thought you didn't want any cheese.”

“I don't, and you don't want this cheese, either. It's poisoned.”

“Who would want to poison me?”

Hermione shrugged. “Everyone? But this is probably bigger than you. I think this could be part of a major cheese conspiracy that goes all the way up to the Ministry.”

Draco looked longingly at the cheese platter. “What a waste of good cheese.”

Ignoring him, Hermione continued, “Maybe I ate mind-controlling cheese that made me build an amusement park. And didn't you say something about a riot? And now Fernando.”

At the mention of Fernando, Draco started pacing frantically. “I'm going back to Azkaban. I'm going back to Azkaban.”

“You're not going anywhere. At least, for now, anyway. Unfortunately, I need your help in solving this mystery. Someone may be trying to become the next dark lord, and you're the only one I can trust.”

“You trust me? Over Longbottom and that Irish bloke?”

“Well, Neville's gotten a little full of himself ever since he killed Nagini. Smaller power trips than his have resulted in the rising of a dark lord. And Seamus has always been a flip-flopper.”

“But why trust me? I've done some pretty horrible things. I could be the one trying to become the next dark lord.”

Hermione let out a laugh. “Very unlikely.”

“Why?” asked Draco, sounding very put out.

“You're not really dark lord material.”

“Are you suggesting that Longbottom is more dark lord material than I am?” asked Draco angrily, his voice starting to rise.

“Yes,” said Hermione emphatically.

“Well, that's... that's... stupid,” Draco sputtered angrily.

“I don't know what you're getting so mad about. Don't you want me to trust you?”

“Not at the expense of my manhood,” huffed Draco.

“This has nothing to do with your... manhood,” said Hermione, stumbling over the word. “It's just that you're a bit of a coward, is all.”

“Oh, is that all,” said Draco sarcastically.

“Do you want me to trust you or not?” asked Hermione exasperatedly. “If not, there's a cell in Azkaban with your name on it.”

A look of fear swept over Draco's face. “All right, all right. You can trust me. But what about him?” asked Draco, pointing down at the very naked, very dead Fernando. “If anyone finds out he's dead, I'm going to Azkaban for sure.”

“Then, no one can find out.”

“What are we going to do? Stuff him in a wardrobe?”

Hermione thought about it and then shook her head. “Someone might find him. We need to hide him somewhere we can keep an eye on him.”

“What are we going to do? Carry him around on our backs?” asked Draco sarcastically.

Hermione's eyes twinkled. “Not our backs. On your shoulder.”

“What?”

Hermione pointed her wand down at Fernando and Transfigured him into a stuffed parrot. Gingerly picking him up, she attached him to Draco's shoulder with a Sticking Charm. Needless to say, Draco completely freaked out.

Running around their cabin, he squealed, “Get him off! Get him off!”

“Would you be quiet!” Hermione hissed. “Quit being such a wuss.”

Draco glared at her. “You know, I think I liked doppelganger-Hermione better.”

“Oh, go jump off a tall cliff somewhere,” Hermione grumbled.

Draco let out a yelp and started walking toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Hermione asked, forgetting all about her control over Draco.

“To go jump off of a cliff,” said Draco angrily, fumbling with the door handle.

Disinterestedly, Hermione said, “Well, have fun.”

“Aren't you going to stop me?” asked Draco, starting to panic.

“Why would I want to do that?”

TO BE CONTINUED...

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