RP: Cry Foul

[pb_hermione]

Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy
Date: 31 May 2000
Location: Contego Terrace to an obscure field in Wiltshire
Status: Private
Summary: Hermione decides it's time to play and Draco has slept long enough.
Completion: Complete

Comments

[pb_hermione]

"It feels bad." An understatement if there ever was one, but the spasms were nothing compared to the actual Cruciatus Curse. Hermione knew she was fortunate to have survived with her faculties intact instead of ending like Neville's poor parents.

Hermione didn't want to debate whose Crucio rounds had been worse. She only knew that it had been hell but it had been better than the alternative. As excruciating as Bellatrix's curses had been, Hermione had worked hard to do things to make the madwoman drag them out, even though it prolonged the agony. The witch had been trying Legilimency on her between the curses. Hermione knew in her place that there was no way Ron would be able to keep from giving up the truth about the sword because his emotions always ran high and he rarely tried to hold them in. She'd had to hang on and give the boys time to come up with something. There had been the added inducement that the longer she kept Bellatrix focused on her, the longer it would be before Greyback got his claws on her. Hermione had been so terrified of the werewolf that she'd have lined up for a lifetime of insanity if it meant she wouldn't be aware while he raped her. There had been no doubt in her mind that was what Greyback had intended to do to her before biting off chunks and slicing her as painfully as possible into tiny ribbons.

"I'm sorry, Draco. Truly," she hated that she'd worried him but she was grateful he'd been with her. Hermione didn't like anyone seeing how weak she was, she'd always managed to fool people until she could get to Madam Pomfrey. Hermione must have missed the signs that one was starting. Signs. "Oh, bollocks," she sighed. "I should have known one was coming. I felt a stitch in my side when I was out running this morning but thought I was just getting a little out of shape from not exercising as often since moving in with you. I should have paid better attention. That was always a sign one of these was building up."

She looked at him, "Would you mind moving to my other side and cuddling in close for a bit? The left side always hurts more and you're so warm. That helps." It was easing up but she could still feel a small stitch on that side. Her eye was still annoying her though and it was beginning to make her feel cranky.

[pb_draco]

Draco sat up and stripped off his tunic. Hermione's shirt had a warming charm on it, the blanket had a warming charm on it, and he was always warm anyway. If she needed more heat, he'd give it to her. A mass of his schoolmates, of his enemies, of his mostly-dead and hated associates could have been standing around at that moment, jeering at him for his pale skin, long scar, and faded Mark, and he wouldn't have cared. Hermione needed him. Needed warmth, needed his touch. He would do whatever it took.

He nestled down on her left side, slipping in close with one leg over hers and his hand over her back. His fingers trailed up and down her spine, patting her gently in that caress he knew comforted her. "What else do you need? What else helps? I'll go dig up Bella and kill her again if you'd like." He shifted her braid to her opposite side and curled to kiss the point of her shoulder, his voice flattening. "I really could kill her for this."

[pb_hermione]

Hermione had closed her eyes trying to will the annoying facial twitch away and hadn't realized he'd removed his shirt. "You didn't have to go that far, Draco. You'll get sunburned," she admonished when she looked at him. There was so little of her normal bossy tone in it that she was sure he'd think she was losing her touch. Honestly, she really just wanted to let the heat soak in from the outside as the potion finished doing the work of relaxing the muscles from the inside.

"That's better," she said when she could feel his warmth again. Hermione closed her eyes again even though she was talking. The potion he gave her, combined with the tic, was making her a little dizzy. "Don't think I haven't considered that a time or two myself. She's where she belongs." Her breathing was even and smooth, with only occasional twinges now. "I'm a little woozy. Is that part of the vertigo side-effect you warned me about? I didn't think it would happen if I was lying down."

[pb_draco]

God, she didn't even have the strength to nag him. Something tightened in his chest and Draco held his breath for a moment so he didn't choke on his worry. "You need heat, dearheart, and I'm pretty well your own portable furnace here. I'll risk it. Besides, what's the good of being a potions expert if I can't whip up a little sunburn soother when I need it?" He shifted in to rest his head against hers, surrounding her as best he could. "Don't worry about me. Let me take care of you."

Draco watched her from under his lashes, memorizing the curves of her face that he could see from his position. "Probably because you were in the air when it hit. It'll go away soon." He hoped. He'd not really had a chance to test out that potion before, and he'd already made a few observations that he needed to take back to ap Hywel to improve the base of it. It needed to work even faster. He listened to her breathing smooth out, and felt a knot in his shoulders relaxing as it looked like she was starting to recover. "What do you need right now? Do you need to just relax and be quiet, or-or do you want me to talk to you? Could tell you what Osiris and Crookshanks got into while you were at work this week. Or this hag came into the shop Monday, her maybe. Or ... or, I don't know, start naming the kids, plan the wedding, argue about who was right? I know I'm kind of rambling here, Granger, but I don't know what you need."

[pb_hermione]

Hermione nodded, "You are warm, but you're warm with your shirt on too. Not complaining. I'd feel terrible later if you burned because of me." It was her instinct to push her issues away in favor of seeing to those who were important to her. Draco wasn't any different in that respect, as she well knew. Hermione decided to relax and let him decide. He was taking care of her after all. "Okay," she acquiesced.

"I need to wait until the muscles stop feeling like they want to clench up." How long that was depended. This one wasn't one of the worst, "It's been worse. Not too long, I think. When I can sit up, I should eat something. Right now, I think I'd like to hear about the cats, please."

[pb_draco]

It's been worse. Draco closed his eyes and stifled a curse before he could say it. Damn good thing Bella was dead. And damn good thing he'd never held a Cruciatus on anyone as long as Bella had tortured Hermione. Having done something like this to someone would drive him mad. Watching Hermione work through it was close enough to insanity.

Cats. The cats. "Right," he said after a deep breath. "So you remember that feather on a stick thing we bought the day we had our pictures done? I thought Osiris had lost it somewhere, but the other day he was digging in the sofa like a Niffler. I was pissed off, thought he was going to destroy the upholstery. But before I could get to him - had potion all over my hands, right? - he'd found it, and he flipped it up out of the sofa. It went over the back, flipping around like Lucifer on a bender, and then out of nowhere, here comes Crookshanks." He kept patting her back, telling her a story about the antics of their familiars, only slightly exaggerated for humor.

[pb_hermione]

"The cat teaser. I remember. Crooks hates those but I was fairly sure that Osiris would love it." Hermione smiled as he explained. "Oh, dear. Crookshanks does not like those things at all. Mum bought one for him once. We were never sure exactly what happened, since no one was home at the time, but when we came back, it was like the stick had been whittled down sliver by sliver and the feathers were never found. Sorry. I interrupted. What happened with Crooks and Osiris?" Hermione asked. "Lower," she added, regarding his hand.

[pb_draco]

"Exactly my point. I swear, love, it was like Potter and me going after a Snitch, head to head. Osiris was screeching, Crooks was practically a blur of fur, and this feather thing is flipping around like it's going to come to life." He moved his hand lower on her back, applying pressure with the tips of his fingers. "I was so astonished, I didn't even go for my wand, but if I had I wasn't sure what spell to pick. Petrify, Stupefy, I had no idea. But before I could think that far, it happened. It happened."

He shifted his head back a little to look her right in the eyes. One brow raised, he made the most serious face he could muster. "They got into the kitchen."

[pb_hermione]

Hermione grinned but she didn't laugh in case it caused a stitch. The potion was working well now but she didn't want to risk having difficulties catching a breath again.

"Oh, heavens," she said gravely. "What happened then? And more to the point, what did Cookoo do in response?" She was sure his house-elf blamed Malfoy for it, and most likely in Gaelic.

[pb_draco]

Draco wrinkled his nose up in a grin, glad she was able to smile now. "Wait, wait, you're getting ahead of the story. They slammed the door open, and I saw my life flash before my eyes, I won't lie. I thought the next thing that would happen would be we'd suddenly have two very small fur rugs and I'd have to explain to you what happened to Crookshanks with some horribly unbelievable lie." He pushed up onto his elbow for more leverage to knead at her back. "Okay, so they're in the kitchen. Cookoo's working on some pasta sauce at the stove, and she's standing on this really high stool. Now, I'm not sure which happened first, because it all happened so fast, but the cats slammed into the stool, the feather toy ended up in the sauce, Cookoo ended up in the sink, and the worst part? The worst part?"

He shook his head, looking very sad. "She spilled sauce on that apron you bought her. Have you ever seen a truly upset house-elf, Granger? I mean a seriously enraged one? I've come very close to dying several times in my life so far, and that moment was the first time I ever thought I only had thirty seconds to live. She actually turned purple."

[pb_hermione]

Hermione was too interested in the story to nag at him for even considering lying to her. "Worst part? You mean there's more?"

He explained that the green 'World's Greatest Cook' apron had got sauced and Hermione banged her head on the pillow. Cookoo must wash it every night so she'd have it the next day because since she'd given it to the house-elf for Easter, Hermione had never seen Cookoo without it. "At least purple and green go well together," Hermione offered. "I'm glad she wasn't hurt." She was glad their cats hadn't been turned into bathmats too. "What happened after that?" The counter was too high of a leap for Crooks but it wasn't beyond Osiris' abilities, although she did think he was smart enough not to leap on top of the hob.

[pb_draco]

"First, she swore. And I mean swore. Granger, you nag me for my language, and I may have to start watching my mouth, because I know she picked up some of those words from me. Possibly my mother, but probably me. Then she switched into Gaelic, and I'm afraid we're going to have to go shopping, because I saw the look in her eyes and I was scared, and I Banished all the knives. Yes, that's why we've had nothing but sandwiches for the past couple of days. Didn't want to say." He cleared his throat, looking a little sheepish.

"She then proceeded to call me a name that I shall not repeat because I don't think I can pronounce it. Of course, she looked horrified immediately after, and she tried to turn the hot water on in the sink so she could wash her mouth out with dish soap, but I put a stop to that right quick. You're welcome." He knew she hated it that any house-elves would automatically attempt to punish themselves for bad behavior and she tried to halt it whenever possible. Cookoo was really getting quite spoiled in that regard, in his opinion, but whatever kept the peace with his woman. "The cats clearly have a better sense of self-preservation than a Slytherin, because they'd disappeared before the sauce hit the apron, and I didn't find them for three hours. Osiris was under the bed and don't ask me how, but Crookshanks was in one of your bookcases. But regardless, I had to help Cookoo clean up her apron, and that was no easy task."

[pb_hermione]

Hermione choked, "Your mother?" There was no way his mother swore. She'd seen the looks Narcissa Malfoy sent her son's way when he looked as if he might be on the verge of foul language himself. "Where did you Banish them to? You can't Banish something without it flying off somewhere. Don't tell me you mixed up your charms again and actually Vanished them?" A banished object was easily recovered by summoning it, not that she wanted to go using an Accio on kitchen knives but she could transfigure something to make it safe to do that. If he'd sent them into nothingness, then nothing would get them back.

Hermione nodded in approval when he said he stopped Cookoo from washing her mouth out. "You helped your house-elf clean?" she giggled. "Heavens, I love you. Did the sauce all come out, or do we need a new apron as well as new knives?" Hermione tried to turn onto her side but it still hurt just a little, so she settled back the way she'd been.

[pb_draco]

"Oops." Draco's cheeks flushed pink and he made an imaginary mystical gesture, drawing fake runes on her back. "You didn't hear that. I said nothing about my mother. She never swears. Ever. You heard nothing. So anyway, these knives. I actually have no idea. I, um. Er. I have a confession. I don't really know the difference between Banishing and Vanishing. They could be anywhere."

He hesitated when she moved, his hand hovering over her, until she flattened out again and he smoothed his fingers over her lower back. "It all came out. Thank Salazar for that, because I don't know what I'd have done if it didn't. I had no idea where you bought that apron and she was already threatening to withhold my coffee if I didn't set things right again."

[pb_hermione]

Hermione still didn't believe that Narcissa Malfoy would use anything but the most proper of language, then again, Hermione's own mother had been capable of letting loose on occasion as well. Especially if it involved being burned on something in the kitchen. "I suspected as much when I saw you Banish a cigarette butt instead of Vanish it. It's all right. I'll teach you the difference so you'll have it down before we have children. Can you imagine the ruckus if our pointy son's Mister Mittens 2 was Vanished instead of Banished to the shelf and could not be got back?" Heaven help them.

"It's Muggle. I charmed it to size and to make the pockets hold as much as she wanted like our satchels. They aren't hard to find with that wording. The green isn't as common as red but a Color-change Charm would fix that." Hermione tried moving again and this time it went better. "I think I can sit up now if we transfigure a backrest."

[pb_draco]

"I do not want to even begin imagining that. Count yourself lucky you weren't around one time when I did manage to lose Mister Mittens. Talk about tantrums. We had to turn the Manor upside down. Literally, in a couple of rooms." He'd completely refused to even go near his bed until Mister Mittens was located. They'd finally found the stuffed toy in the portrait gallery, keeping watch over a parchment and a set of wax crayons. Draco had been frustrated over not being able to draw a proper house, he remembered. Never had been much of an artist. He smiled at her expression when he explained that incident to her. "We'll have to make certain that each of our children have their own Mittens. Hell, we'll need an entirely separate room just for toys."

He laughed, sitting up to give her room. "Don't tell her that it's Muggle. She likes it so much I think she'd actually cry if she had to get rid of it." He took one of the pillows and concentrated, changing it into a large backrest with thickly padded arms, almost like the top half of a chair. As he helped her shift, he grinned at her, reminded of their first picnic together. "I think I should be feeding you grapes this time. Good luck getting me into that harem costume, though."