(Untitled)

[grabmyballs]

There's a couple of things Cook's learned since his first day on this island. Chief among them is that this place is nails your balls to the wall boring. Yeah, there's miles of beaches. Fucking whatever. There's no nightlife to speak of, a limited and piss-poor selection of drugs and alcohol and without those two things playing the field becomes an

Comments

[honestlyrubbish]

Although Hermione has a habit of scolding people at the slightest provocation, these days, it's difficult for that anger or irritation to remain for long. Put into perspective, problems like prank calls pale in comparison to most of what she's seen in the past year, and even she has to admit that she's more irritated than anything else. The rules are there for a reason, to be sure, but to pretend that this young man's put the system at great danger would be an exaggeration at best.

She exhales deeply, eyes closing for a moment, before she speaks up again.

"We haven't... sent out officers in response to all of your calls. Actually, I neglected to check whether or not any officers were sent out at all- my guess is that they've learned to recognize your voice by now- but the point is that if one person breaks the rules, then others are more likely to follow. And it might be ordering Chinese food or reporting runaway appliances at first, but it could quickly become dying of thirst, or spotting a dinosaur, things that we can't just ignore on a whim," Hermione explains patiently, feeling a bit nostalgic, like she's been taken back to Hogwarts again and made to explain the rules to first years. "Plus, shouting through the callbox is pretty distracting. Even if impressive, looking at how long you're able to yell without taking a breath."

[grabmyballs]

Here's the part that Cook loves about this island. He tilts his head to the side, his gaze never leaving her and asks, "What rules?"

He knows the "blank slate" rule, easy. He's aware that they're called emergency call boxes, but there's no ready definition of emergency. He's even taken the time to discover that there's a declaration somewhere. He's only skimmed it, not interested enough to do any more once he got the gist of the document (kumbaya and treat your neighbor as yourself). It's almost enough to make him want to get involved in politics again, because being on this council would give him a bigger laugh than winning the Roundview elections.

"Now, maybe it's 'cause I'm new," he allows, trying to sound reasonable. "But I'm not aware of any laws at all."

[honestlyrubbish]

It isn't difficult to conclude that this young man wants to get under Hermione's skin. He isn't the first, won't be the last, and part of being on the Council (or indeed, of having any type of administrative position at all) is fielding questions, complaints, and concerns. Perhaps it's the dedication to her job that has Hermione keeping her calm remarkably well, but at the same time, this man certainly isn't earning her favor, and the slight spark in her eyes serves as such indication. Her gaze travels to the side for a moment as she tries to determine how precisely she wants to reply, what will give him the least avenue to be a smartass.

In the end, she just decides to go with her first impulse, because chances are no matter what she says, he'll try to poke holes, and she doesn't have his type of thinking and logic to know which pitfalls to avoid.

"If you're asking me for a list of rules down to the letter, you're right, what we have is very limited. Flaws can be found throughout the entirety of the system- it doesn't take a clever person to find them. But you can't set black letter law in the traditional way here, not when people appear and disappear without warning. Very few people stay here longer than three to four years, and the longest anyone currently on the island has been around is six," she replies, her tone clipped, but not precisely unkind. "What we do tell you is that you get a blank slate the moment you arrive on the island, that any action purposely taken to hurt another citizen will receive punishment to be decided on a case-by-case basis, and that these call boxes are meant to be used for emergencies. So please, spare me the cheek. You and I both know you just meant to have some fun; all I'm doing is asking that you find it elsewhere next time."

[grabmyballs]

It doesn't take a clever person to find them. Read: You're not clever, Cook. But he doesn't give a damn if Hermione Granger thinks he's clever or not. She's got her nose shoved too far in a book for her own good anyway, and it doesn't stop her from picking up the likes of Ron Weasley. Clearly compensating for something there.

He doesn't hear most of what else she says, though his gaze never wavers and his expression barely changes. It grows hard for a moment. "You don't know fuck all about me," Cook informs her, reminds her really because that should be standard. Chewing him out for prank calls does not an acquaintance make.

"But if you're asking," he continues, face and tone pliable, shifting capriciously to a more open expression, "so nice and politely, then I suppose I should explore my options. Think I could find some fun in your knickers?"

[honestlyrubbish]

"I didn't know much about you," Hermione corrects, feeling her expression grow hard, forcefully neutral, because this kind of behavior and treatment is precisely what she despises in boys, and is one of the reasons why she continues to be grateful for the two that she calls her best friends. They might be clueless at times, or needlessly stubborn at others, but at least they have the decency to treat others with respect.

"But now I know that you're vile," she continues, nose wrinkling as she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. Having no way to guarantee that any of her warnings have been taken to heart, Hermione turns around and starts heading in the other direction altogether, feeling indignation brewing just under her skin and coloring her cheeks. "Though I'm sure you'd find someone interested enough, if you care to look."

[grabmyballs]

There’s only two possibilities when he makes a play like that and he wasn’t expecting anything positive coming of it. But, chipper and optimistic lad that he is, Cook will take what he can from the rejection. Vile. That is, surprisingly, a new one and Cook basks in the novelty of the insult. And his face isn’t stinging from a slap. That’s always a good thing.

“Oh, I’m looking, sweetheart,” he calls out after her. His tone is lazy and lecherous as he watches her go, watches her arse with deep interest. “Trust me, I’m looking.”

[honestlyrubbish]

With an aggravated huff, Hermione strips herself of the light cotton shirt on her shoulders, the one that she wears to block out the sun. There's a camisole underneath, of course, but the shirt she now ties over her hips- there isn't anything else to see while she's walking away, right?- to block her backside as well as she can. On the bright side, if it can be considered that, at least he's done nothing more than jeer from where he stands.

"Look elsewhere," she calls back. "You'd be better off looking elsewhere."

[grabmyballs]

It's fucking hilarious how twisted up she gets, a sure sign that our man Weasley has yet to succeed where all others will surely fail. Girl needs a deep dicking, make no mistake. He bites his lip to keep from laughing and swallows the worst of it down.

"Like your shoulders?" he shouts after her, not bothering to follow. "Always liked the nape of the neck, you know."

[honestlyrubbish]

Hermione isn't sure whether or not it'll help as she slows down to a stop and glares back in his direction, a small growl catching in her throat. There's a concession in showing so much of her frustration, but the only thing that Hermione can imagine as being worse is not voicing her discomfort at all. Halting, she turns around and steps closer, arms crossing over her chest before she lets out another irritated huff and reaches instead for her shirt, stuffing her arms in the sleeves and wrapping it tightly around.

"Would you please stop?" Hermione asks, and in spite of everything, there's an earnest look in her eyes. It isn't funny. "You're making me uncomfortable. Please."

[grabmyballs]

Cook's a lot of things, but heartless isn't one of them. She's lucky he isn't drunk or high or angry right now, unable to give a shit and seeing only what he wants to see. It was funny, but only because he had thought she was strong enough to handle it. Cook doesn't see the strength in begging someone to stop, not ever, but he can respect her for saying exactly what she wants, not running or spitting back or making veiled remarks.

The smile hangs onto the edge of his mouth, like he's forgotten to put it away and it just got left out on accident. But his eyes aren't laughing anymore.

"Just walk away," he tells her. It's not a challenge. "Just walk away."

[honestlyrubbish]

Closing her eyes briefly, Hermione lets out a deep exhale, relieved. And in retrospect, she feels uneasy in a different way now, thinking back on Cormac MacLaggen and how she never tried to stop his behavior at all. While Cormac certainly wasn't even half as aggressive as this young man's been, maybe she could have spared herself a few awkward moments and a great deal of misunderstanding if she'd just been clear. She releases her tight grip on her shirt, arms hanging loose by her sides.

"Thank you," she replies, meeting his gaze and holding it for several seconds, before her brow furrows with a sudden realization, eyes darting to the side and back again. "I'm Hermione Granger. If you're really that... bored, I could probably help you find something more interesting off the bookshelf." She shrugs lightly.

"It tends to give me what I want." With a pause, and deciding that their conversation's been awkward enough, she turns again, as though to leave.

[grabmyballs]

She should have just left it and the fact that she doesn't rankles Cook a bit. The thank you is nice; that's something new, and she way she looks him in the eyes when she says it. But she presumes too much on his kindness and his interest when she deigns to offer him help.

He holds her gaze coolly for as long as she wants it, but when she turns to go Cook makes no move to stop her or to taunt her. He just lets her go as he said (or implied) that he would, unwilling to do anything more, one way or another.