Chapter Thirteen: A Cruel Allergy, or This is Not How I Want To Confess My Love to Her
Author: leopion
Beta: dormiensa
AN: As you may have noticed, Charlie and I share a certain fondness for
[?????]
Cabin Pressure. Hermione might be a fan too ;)
You could have heard a pin drop if not for the chorus of “Oops’” blaring from the Wiz-speakers, which apparently couldn’t help but stutter at the presence of the illustrious chief unicorn. The virgin ladies, however, had been stunned into silence-mid-run, mid-flight, mid-jump, or mid-whatever-threatening-pose-they-were-in-as Charlie tossed his silvery mane. Said mane was glistening, and in the light of the disco ball, Charlie’s horn no longer sparkled, it positively dazzled everyone in sight. They all swept to the sides and looked up with big, adoring eyes as the unicorn majestically trotted in.
Even Hermione, self-proclaimed hater of all things unicorn, took a moment to shake herself from the trance. To be fair, she only woke up fully when Charlie whinnied sultrily, “My ladies.”
Of course, such an endearing whinny is not directed at me, thought Hermione bitterly. It would be more like “bawd”, or “cocotte”, or “drab”, or “harlot” ...
Before she could lose herself in a game of listing insulting names for her own state of impurity (in alphabetical order), Hermione tightened her grip on Draco’s hand and murmured, “I think this is our chance.”
With that, she Apparated them both back to the flat. As swift as their journey was, Draco could have sworn that before they spun into the compressing sensation of Apparition, he heard a gleeful whinny echoing into his consciousness. “You owe me a colossal favour, boy. A colossal favour.”
It sent chills down Draco’s back. However, upon closer inspection of the pearly object right next to his head, which turned out to be the toilet bowl, he decided that the source of coldness was actually the bathroom floor.
“Oh my gosh,” a miserable wail came from the bathtub, followed by a wobbly Hermione climbing over the ledge. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Draco. I should have known better than to drunk-Apparate.” She was hovering above him now, her angelic face pale with worry. “Are you all right? Is the baby all right? Should we go check at St Mungo’s?”
Draco felt his heart swell. She must care for him. A lot. Perhaps... perhaps... as more than a friend. He beamed up at her. “Never been better.”
Still lying with his back on the floor, Draco took Hermione’s hands in his own, too caught up in his happiness to notice that her face had gone even paler after his assurance. “Hermione, you are my m-”
He was cut off as Hermione suddenly lunged for the toilet and proceeded to throw up. This instantly brought Draco to full alert. He deftly extricated himself from between Hermione and the toilet and sat up by her side. Thankful that Hermione had swept her hair up into a ponytail before they’d gone out, he gathered up a few stray curls and held them out of her face.
Hermione gave him a barely perceptible nod of thanks. She was still violently retching into the toilet, bracing herself over it with one arm, the other arm cradling her stomach.
“Draco,” she gasped, “my belly... hurts.” Hermione’s whole body was shaking like a leaf.
Draco’s own stomach was filled with dread. This was not simply the alcohol she’d consumed. It was something more serious.
“Draco... I... ”
He caught Hermione just in time to save her from collapsing onto the bathroom floor.
*****
Draco Malfoy ceased his pacing as soon as the door of room 2034, St Mungo’s Hospital, creaked open.
“You,” he growled at the man who had just come out. “Aren’t you supposed to be a gynaecologist? What are you doing here?”
MediWizard Simmons arched an eyebrow. “So, you haven’t transferred the embryo into her yet?”
“What is it with you freaking morons and transferring embryos? Of course I haven’t. She’s my-wait, you can’t even tell?”
One glance at the other man’s face and Simmons knew that his attempt at humour had been misplaced. He straightened his white coat and said seriously, “Of course I can tell. Merely wanted to lift the tension.” This earned the Healer another glare. “I am a Healer of many talents, and as it happens, the hospital is currently a bit short of staff. I can assure you that-”
“Fine, whatever.” Draco waved his hand dismissively. “How is Hermione?”
“She’s sleeping, recuperating, and she will most likely be released tomorrow morning.”
Draco breathed a huge sigh of relief.
“Now, I am quite certain that our diagnosis is correct, but just to be a hundred percent sure, does your... friend have an allergy to bananas?”
“Yes.”
“And do you know if she happened to come into any kind of contact with bananas or Fargul Nuts earlier today?”
Oh, no, it can’t be. Draco forced himself not to panic. “She made a paste out of those nuts.”
“This means she probably touched the nuts and also inhaled some of its scent, then?”
Draco nodded.
“Just as we suspected,” said Simmons. “She’s lucky that she hasn’t consumed any of that paste. Otherwise, the reaction would have been much less delayed and much more severe. With Fargul Nuts allergy, the digestive system is the most vulnerable.”
“You mean to say that Hermione is allergic to Fargul Nuts?”
“I’m afraid so,” said Simmons, starting to stroll away.
Despite the brick that seemed to have lodged itself in Draco’s throat, he managed to ask the final question. He needed to get to the root of this. “And what do bananas have to do with anything?”
The MediWizard turned and smirked at him. “Oh, didn’t you know? Bananas and Fargul Nuts are distantly related.”
*****
The army of furious virgins was closing in on Hermione and Draco.
“Nooooo!” shouted Hermione, waving her arms around frantically in an attempt to ward them off. Instead of smacking into human obstacles, she was suddenly engulfed by cold air. Hermione shuddered and opened her eyes (Why hadn’t I realised that they were closed before?). After inspecting her surroundings (St Mungo’s, most likely.), she concluded that she was having a nightmare, and the gush of cold air was the result of her accidentally throwing off the blanket. Then, she dug up her recent memory to find that the last was of her emptying the contents of her stomach in the bathroom. So, Draco must have brought her here.
That was when Hermione noticed the voices outside her door. Her ear perked up at the word “daughter-in-law” coming from Lucius, but the rest was quite muffled. Draco has just told his father, then. With her heart thumping wildly in her chest, Hermione fished out an Extendable Ear from her beaded bag and crept towards the door.
*****
“Father, what are you doing here?” Draco barely kept himself from groaning. He was in absolutely no mood to deal with his parents’ theatrics right now.
“How is my daughter-in-law?”
“Your what?”
“My future daughter-in-law. You shouldn’t be so rigid about semantics, boy. Now, how is Hermione? I heard that she was here because of an emergency. Your mother wanted to come, but I insisted that she stay at home for the sake of the baby.”
Draco stood stock-still throughout his father’s whole tirade. “How... how did you know?” he asked finally.
His father smirked. “So, she isis your mate then.”
Draco mentally cursed himself for falling into his father’s trap. Then again, how could his father have such an accurate suspicion?
Oh... of course.
Damn you, you stupid unicorn, thought Draco.
Hey, hey, hey, show a little respect, young man, a voice emanated from inside Draco’s head. No doubt it was Charlie and his psychic superpower. I saved you from a throng of wanton virgins, Draco. The least you can do is to let me entertain myself with some meddling.
Great, now I hear voices in my head.
Didn’t I tell you to consider therapy?
Shut up.
Okay.
That easy?
Nah, just come back and deal with your father. This will be so much fun. Hee hee.
And with that, Draco was left to his own devices. He had intended to hide the truth from his parents, but now that they knew, they would never let it rest. Even if they knew that his mate was not a virgin and allergic to Fargul Nuts, they would do anything to prevent their only heir from remaining a virgin for the rest of his life.
Poor Hermione! She wouldn’t have a choice. She would even volunteer once the word got out, being the martyr that she was, even though Fargul Nuts could be the death of her.
Draco reached a decision then.
“She’s never going to be your daughter-in-law, Father,” he said.
“Why ever not?” asked his father with a raised eyebrow.
“I’d rather die a virgin than marry a filthy whore like her,” he spat. His father looked taken aback, but it was nothing compared to the angry cry coming from the direction of Hermione’s room.
“You lying bastard!”
Hermione stepped out into the corridor and fixed Draco with an icy stare. Draco felt his heart break into a million pieces. He had hoped to at least stay friends with her. He should have known, though. If he was to successfully lie to his parents, he would have to carry it all the way through.
“All this time, you said virginity was overrated, but this is what you really think!” She pointed her finger at him accusingly, but he just stood there with what he hoped was an unreadable expression. It was for the best.
“That’s why you haven’t told me, isn’t it?” continued Hermione. “Because I am so... so whorish that even Fargul Nut paste cannot erase your disgust.”
Hands still shaking with rage, Hermione took out her wand. At that moment, all he wanted to do was to rush to her, hold her in his arms, and tell her that he loved her. But instead, he closed his eyes and waited for her hexes. He would take anything she threw at him now. He deserved it.
The hexes never came, though. A faint pop resounded in the corridor, and when Draco opened his eyes, Hermione was gone.
Continue or ToC
Beta: dormiensa
AN: As you may have noticed, Charlie and I share a certain fondness for
[?????]
Cabin Pressure. Hermione might be a fan too ;)
You could have heard a pin drop if not for the chorus of “Oops’” blaring from the Wiz-speakers, which apparently couldn’t help but stutter at the presence of the illustrious chief unicorn. The virgin ladies, however, had been stunned into silence-mid-run, mid-flight, mid-jump, or mid-whatever-threatening-pose-they-were-in-as Charlie tossed his silvery mane. Said mane was glistening, and in the light of the disco ball, Charlie’s horn no longer sparkled, it positively dazzled everyone in sight. They all swept to the sides and looked up with big, adoring eyes as the unicorn majestically trotted in.
Even Hermione, self-proclaimed hater of all things unicorn, took a moment to shake herself from the trance. To be fair, she only woke up fully when Charlie whinnied sultrily, “My ladies.”
Of course, such an endearing whinny is not directed at me, thought Hermione bitterly. It would be more like “bawd”, or “cocotte”, or “drab”, or “harlot” ...
Before she could lose herself in a game of listing insulting names for her own state of impurity (in alphabetical order), Hermione tightened her grip on Draco’s hand and murmured, “I think this is our chance.”
With that, she Apparated them both back to the flat. As swift as their journey was, Draco could have sworn that before they spun into the compressing sensation of Apparition, he heard a gleeful whinny echoing into his consciousness. “You owe me a colossal favour, boy. A colossal favour.”
It sent chills down Draco’s back. However, upon closer inspection of the pearly object right next to his head, which turned out to be the toilet bowl, he decided that the source of coldness was actually the bathroom floor.
“Oh my gosh,” a miserable wail came from the bathtub, followed by a wobbly Hermione climbing over the ledge. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Draco. I should have known better than to drunk-Apparate.” She was hovering above him now, her angelic face pale with worry. “Are you all right? Is the baby all right? Should we go check at St Mungo’s?”
Draco felt his heart swell. She must care for him. A lot. Perhaps... perhaps... as more than a friend. He beamed up at her. “Never been better.”
Still lying with his back on the floor, Draco took Hermione’s hands in his own, too caught up in his happiness to notice that her face had gone even paler after his assurance. “Hermione, you are my m-”
He was cut off as Hermione suddenly lunged for the toilet and proceeded to throw up. This instantly brought Draco to full alert. He deftly extricated himself from between Hermione and the toilet and sat up by her side. Thankful that Hermione had swept her hair up into a ponytail before they’d gone out, he gathered up a few stray curls and held them out of her face.
Hermione gave him a barely perceptible nod of thanks. She was still violently retching into the toilet, bracing herself over it with one arm, the other arm cradling her stomach.
“Draco,” she gasped, “my belly... hurts.” Hermione’s whole body was shaking like a leaf.
Draco’s own stomach was filled with dread. This was not simply the alcohol she’d consumed. It was something more serious.
“Draco... I... ”
He caught Hermione just in time to save her from collapsing onto the bathroom floor.
*****
Draco Malfoy ceased his pacing as soon as the door of room 2034, St Mungo’s Hospital, creaked open.
“You,” he growled at the man who had just come out. “Aren’t you supposed to be a gynaecologist? What are you doing here?”
MediWizard Simmons arched an eyebrow. “So, you haven’t transferred the embryo into her yet?”
“What is it with you freaking morons and transferring embryos? Of course I haven’t. She’s my-wait, you can’t even tell?”
One glance at the other man’s face and Simmons knew that his attempt at humour had been misplaced. He straightened his white coat and said seriously, “Of course I can tell. Merely wanted to lift the tension.” This earned the Healer another glare. “I am a Healer of many talents, and as it happens, the hospital is currently a bit short of staff. I can assure you that-”
“Fine, whatever.” Draco waved his hand dismissively. “How is Hermione?”
“She’s sleeping, recuperating, and she will most likely be released tomorrow morning.”
Draco breathed a huge sigh of relief.
“Now, I am quite certain that our diagnosis is correct, but just to be a hundred percent sure, does your... friend have an allergy to bananas?”
“Yes.”
“And do you know if she happened to come into any kind of contact with bananas or Fargul Nuts earlier today?”
Oh, no, it can’t be. Draco forced himself not to panic. “She made a paste out of those nuts.”
“This means she probably touched the nuts and also inhaled some of its scent, then?”
Draco nodded.
“Just as we suspected,” said Simmons. “She’s lucky that she hasn’t consumed any of that paste. Otherwise, the reaction would have been much less delayed and much more severe. With Fargul Nuts allergy, the digestive system is the most vulnerable.”
“You mean to say that Hermione is allergic to Fargul Nuts?”
“I’m afraid so,” said Simmons, starting to stroll away.
Despite the brick that seemed to have lodged itself in Draco’s throat, he managed to ask the final question. He needed to get to the root of this. “And what do bananas have to do with anything?”
The MediWizard turned and smirked at him. “Oh, didn’t you know? Bananas and Fargul Nuts are distantly related.”
*****
The army of furious virgins was closing in on Hermione and Draco.
“Nooooo!” shouted Hermione, waving her arms around frantically in an attempt to ward them off. Instead of smacking into human obstacles, she was suddenly engulfed by cold air. Hermione shuddered and opened her eyes (Why hadn’t I realised that they were closed before?). After inspecting her surroundings (St Mungo’s, most likely.), she concluded that she was having a nightmare, and the gush of cold air was the result of her accidentally throwing off the blanket. Then, she dug up her recent memory to find that the last was of her emptying the contents of her stomach in the bathroom. So, Draco must have brought her here.
That was when Hermione noticed the voices outside her door. Her ear perked up at the word “daughter-in-law” coming from Lucius, but the rest was quite muffled. Draco has just told his father, then. With her heart thumping wildly in her chest, Hermione fished out an Extendable Ear from her beaded bag and crept towards the door.
*****
“Father, what are you doing here?” Draco barely kept himself from groaning. He was in absolutely no mood to deal with his parents’ theatrics right now.
“How is my daughter-in-law?”
“Your what?”
“My future daughter-in-law. You shouldn’t be so rigid about semantics, boy. Now, how is Hermione? I heard that she was here because of an emergency. Your mother wanted to come, but I insisted that she stay at home for the sake of the baby.”
Draco stood stock-still throughout his father’s whole tirade. “How... how did you know?” he asked finally.
His father smirked. “So, she isis your mate then.”
Draco mentally cursed himself for falling into his father’s trap. Then again, how could his father have such an accurate suspicion?
Oh... of course.
Damn you, you stupid unicorn, thought Draco.
Hey, hey, hey, show a little respect, young man, a voice emanated from inside Draco’s head. No doubt it was Charlie and his psychic superpower. I saved you from a throng of wanton virgins, Draco. The least you can do is to let me entertain myself with some meddling.
Great, now I hear voices in my head.
Didn’t I tell you to consider therapy?
Shut up.
Okay.
That easy?
Nah, just come back and deal with your father. This will be so much fun. Hee hee.
And with that, Draco was left to his own devices. He had intended to hide the truth from his parents, but now that they knew, they would never let it rest. Even if they knew that his mate was not a virgin and allergic to Fargul Nuts, they would do anything to prevent their only heir from remaining a virgin for the rest of his life.
Poor Hermione! She wouldn’t have a choice. She would even volunteer once the word got out, being the martyr that she was, even though Fargul Nuts could be the death of her.
Draco reached a decision then.
“She’s never going to be your daughter-in-law, Father,” he said.
“Why ever not?” asked his father with a raised eyebrow.
“I’d rather die a virgin than marry a filthy whore like her,” he spat. His father looked taken aback, but it was nothing compared to the angry cry coming from the direction of Hermione’s room.
“You lying bastard!”
Hermione stepped out into the corridor and fixed Draco with an icy stare. Draco felt his heart break into a million pieces. He had hoped to at least stay friends with her. He should have known, though. If he was to successfully lie to his parents, he would have to carry it all the way through.
“All this time, you said virginity was overrated, but this is what you really think!” She pointed her finger at him accusingly, but he just stood there with what he hoped was an unreadable expression. It was for the best.
“That’s why you haven’t told me, isn’t it?” continued Hermione. “Because I am so... so whorish that even Fargul Nut paste cannot erase your disgust.”
Hands still shaking with rage, Hermione took out her wand. At that moment, all he wanted to do was to rush to her, hold her in his arms, and tell her that he loved her. But instead, he closed his eyes and waited for her hexes. He would take anything she threw at him now. He deserved it.
The hexes never came, though. A faint pop resounded in the corridor, and when Draco opened his eyes, Hermione was gone.
Continue or ToC