Chapter Eight: A Melodic and Imperious Whinny
Author: captainraychill
Beta: dormiensa
[ A/N: G Rated Spoiler]
The passage about all women smelling like rotten cabbage and armpits to Veela Draco was directly inspired by UnseenLibrarian's Veelantine Surprise which is a wonderful story in which Susan Bones smells like lift grease, sweat and old tacos to Veela Draco. Hilarious!
“Darling,” Hermione said to Draco.
They sat on a bench in the Malfoy’s zoo before the Guatemalan Howler Monkey habitat. A black, baby monkey hung by its tail from a branch, nibbling a giant leaf and staring at Draco with bright eyes. Another baby. Even here, he couldn’t escape babies.
“Are you listening?” Hermione asked. She resumed reading the parchment delivered by Narcissa’s owl just moments ago. “‘Darling, we heard that you visited Medi Wizard Simmons yesterday. I presume he gave you the same advice that he gave your father and me. We are pleased to report that your precious, little seedling of a sibling has been transplanted into my womb...’”
“Eww!” Draco said. The baby howler monkey cooed at him.
“‘...With impressive virility and style.’”
“Stop it!”
“I think that last bit was from your father. The handwriting is different. More... virile and stylish.”
“Granger!” Draco snapped. “Please skip to anything not having to do with my parents’ disgusting sex life.”
After several long seconds of reading, Hermione said, “Oh, dear.”
Dread pooled in Draco’s stomach like acid. “Tell me.”
“‘We have taken the liberty of apprising an elite selection of our dearest friends (all those who possess unmarried daughters of age) of your immediate need for a womb and a bride.’”
“What?!”
“'Yours affectionately and with child, Mother and Father.'”
“Noooo!!”
Draco’s frustrated cry set off the howler monkeys, whose howls actually sounded more like guttural, resonant growls. Except for the baby’s. It hooted, with an adorable, high-pitched, “Ooo ooo oooooo!”
Hermione calmly folded the parchment and slipped it into her beaded bag. Her fingers brushed against that bloody gift she kept forgetting to wrap. As she watched Draco drop his head into his hands, she decided that he needed the gift more than Ron. She was about to pull it out when two more owls swooped down and landed on the ground in front of them.
One was pretty with brown feathers and a mincing manner of walking, tossing its head about. The other was smaller and more aggressive, hopping forward with a screech. It had sleek, black feathers on the top of its head.
Certainly not, Hermione thought. “Whose owls are those?”
“Astoria’s and Pansy’s.”
“Your first prospective wombs,” she said, taking the notes wrapped around each owl’s right leg. “Shall I read their applications to see who has the wider hips for an optimum birth? I believe that would be Pansy. I suppose she assumes you won’t mind her preference for girls.”
“Just...” Draco sighed and looked at Hermione. “Just take me out of here. Take me someplace no one would ever guess I’d be.”
Hermione’s heart clenched as Draco reached out his hand to her, palm up. He looked so weary. She would help him in any way she could. She took his hand and led him toward the nearest Zoo Floo, which was hidden from Muggles in a dense grove of bamboo.
“Why don’t we just Apparate?” he asked.
“Apparition’s not good for the baby.”
“Oh,” he said quietly with a glance over his shoulder. The baby howler monkey cooed again, then returned to nibbling on its leaf.
*****
After Flooing into Hagrid’s hut, finding it empty, and then walking six hundred steps into the Forbidden Forest, Hermione and Draco stood in a beautiful clearing beside a waterfall. Surrounded by the soft rustle of green leaves, he felt at peace for the first time in days.
“This is nice,” he said. His sense of peace deepened as he watched sunlight transform Hermione’s brown hair into gorgeous shades of gold, bronze, and caramel. She walked the edge of the clearing, muttering and waving her wand with a practiced hand.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Setting up a barrier to keep out the owls. They’re very clever. It will probably only hold for an hour or so. But that should be enough time.”
“For what?”
“For the unicorns to come.”
“‘Unicorns guard thee’?” he said skeptically, raising one pale eyebrow.
“I thought perhaps they could provide some answers,” Hermione said, finishing her wards and stopping before him. “Of course...”-at this, he noticed a pretty blush colour her cheeks.-“Of course, I’ll have to hide, since they won’t want anything to do with me.”
“Why not?”
“Luna said they’re quite fastidious about... sexual purity.”
Draco felt his own cheeks heat up and cursed his fair complexion. If he hadn’t been so upset at St. Mungo’s, he would never have admitted to being a twenty-year-old virgin. It was embarrassing, especially since he’d used all his cunning to craft a reputation as the ultimate sex god. He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, feeling vulnerable and unsure of what to say.
“It’s because of your Veela heritage, isn’t it?” Hermione said. “Your need for a mate.”
He nodded. “I am not going into more detail than this, Granger, but I can’t have sex with anyone but my mate, and I haven’t found her yet.”
“How can you find her?”
“Through smell. Father says Mother smells luscious, to use his completely inappropriate and ridiculous word. To me, all women smell like rotten cabbage and armpits.”
“Oh, God!” Hermione said, taking a step back. “I’m so sorry.”
“Not you,” Draco said, laughing at the horrified look on her face.
“What do you mean, not me?” she said, suspicious. “What do I smell like?”
“I don’t know. I cast a spell on myself years ago to avoid smelling females. They’re just too repellent.”
“For how many years?”
“Since about third-year, when puberty hit.”
“But then...” Hermione voice drifted off and her dark eyes grew wide. She couldn’t believe this. How could he be so stupid?
“Draco! Seven years? My God, you could have found her by now. Your mate! There’s no way you ever will if you keep casting this spell!”
By the time she’d finished this impassioned speech, she’d walked up to him and gripped him by his biceps. He stared down at her in shock, and she stared up at him, dazzled by the sunlight on his white-blond hair. She was breathless. From her impassioned speech, of course. The clearing grew still and quiet except for the steady rush of the waterfall.
“Granger,” Draco said softly. He picked up a long strand of her hair and held it between them, seeming to study it. “I just couldn’t stand to know that you smelled like rotten cabbage and armpits, too.”
Funny, but as silly as Draco sounded, Hermione didn’t feel like laughing. She opened her mouth to say something equally foolish about his hair when something dropped from the sky and bounced off her head.
“Ouch!“
She looked down and saw a round, green fargul nut. They were often used in potions, to soak up impurities. Two more fell onto her head in quick succession.
“Ow!!” She put her hands over her head and peered up at Draco.
“They’re not hitting me,” he said with a smirk. “You appear to be their target.”
As if to prove this statement, five-FIVE-nuts bounced off the tops of Hermione’s hands, leaving Draco untouched. He pulled her close and cast a Shield Charm. They both gazed up into the tree above them.
It was buzzing, the nuts practically vibrating to jump off the branches and pummel Hermione.
“What’s going on?” Draco whispered.
Above the sound of the angry tree and the waterfall, they heard what could only be described as a melodic and imperious whinny across the clearing. A brilliant light shone from a break in the trees. A moment later, as her eyes adjusted to the angelic brightness, Hermione saw the unicorn.
“Oh,” she breathed in wonder.
It was the most exquisite creature she’d ever seen. Whiter than snow, tall and majestic, with a silky mane and a horn that shimmered like diamonds. The sight of it filled her with inexpressible feelings of hope and joy.
Until she realized it was glaring at her.
The unicorn hated her. She, Hermione Granger, was loathed by unicorns. It was like being slapped by Santa Claus. She felt a lump in her throat. The creature stamped a front hoof and whinnied again, such a gorgeous sound. But she knew what it was saying.
Get away from him, you dirty whore!
The tree above her was shuddering now, and Hermione knew she was seconds away from a full-on fargul nut attack. Anger bubbled inside her. What gave this unicorn the right to judge her?
“Fine!” she screamed, pushing away from Draco. “I guess slags aren’t welcome here. Too filthy for the virgin and his poncy-arse horse!”
“Hermione-” Draco sighed.
“No!” She couldn’t bear for him to see her cry. “I’ll just watch from a safe distance so you and your white git of a mythic equine won’t be corrupted by the dangerous, smelly slut!”
With that, Hermione stomped into the forest, out of sight.
After a moment, Draco turned his gaze to the unicorn.
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