CHAPTER SIX: I HATE PANDAS, AND I DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS IT
Author: justthedreams
Beta: dormiensa
A/N: Credit to Jay-Z (never thought I’d be typing that…) for the “99 Problems” lyric. And no, I’m not joking about panda porn. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panda_pornography
Hermione slumped down into her cushy captain’s chair, tossed her tricorn onto her overflowing inbox, and put her head into her hands.
The day had been an unmitigated disaster. Conflict after conflict had pushed her to the very edge of her sanity, and the brawl outside of the damn Ye Olde Cheese House was the nudge that sent her tumbling ever so daintily over the edge. It was a blur to her now: a literal flume of the addictive Havarti spanning all three floors, the air sizzling with the smell of flambéed saganaki, the fountain spewing molten nacho cheese upon all and sundry… It was enough to bring a cheese-lover to tears.
And Hermione did so love cheese.
Approaching footsteps prompted a great sniffle and a bout of hurried eye-blotting, though damned if she was going to put that hat on again. She composed herself just as the door opened.
“Are you preg -” Draco’s question died on his lips as he noticed her expression. Eyes wide, he lunged at her, arms extended, mouth open. Hermione braced herself for impact, oddly excited for the comfort that his arms - or any pair of arms, at that moment - would bring. Her disappointment as he stopped short could only mean that she truly had lost her marbles, and it turned to annoyance as he delicately plucked a piece of cheese out of her hair.
“I totally understand why they named it gouda,” he said after munching the morsel.
Hermione was not amused. “A fat lot of help you were today,” she snapped. “I had ninety-nine problems, and -”
“I wasn’t one.” He dropped into the chair beside her and lifted his feet onto her desk. “You told me to stay out of your way, remember?” Draco held up his left hand, flashing his wedding ring at her. “Captain’s orders and all that rot.”
She scowled at the manifestation of her own cleverness. Surely that wasn’t regret she was feeling. Probably just an aftereffect of smelling that rank Limburger.
“I overheard a conversation,” she began, “between Greyback and another employee. I think -”
Draco waved off her concern. “We’ve got bigger problems right now. Panda problems.”
It was her turn to be dismissive. “Draco, we have middle-aged mutant ninja turtles. I’m sure we can handle a few Muggle bears.”
He raised his eyebrows and held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
Hermione allowed herself to be led off the ship and through the park. She needed a moment to take in the nighttime silence, to breathe the cool air and de-stress. As she looked at the hulking structures, eerie black against the deep navy sky, she realized that they were not ready to open tomorrow. No way.
“Clearly,” Draco said with a wry laugh. Hermione flushed; she hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. “Not much we can do about it now, though.”
They stopped at the panda sanctuary in the Magical Menagerie; there was not a bear in sight.
“I fail to see -”
“She is smart,” came a voice from the shadows. Hermione jumped as Regulus sidled into the dim light. He nodded to Draco, then turned back to her. “It’s what you don’t see,” he repeated. “The bears. Humanity’s number one threat.”
He hit her with a significant look; Hermione fought the urge to back away slowly. “Panda bears?” she asked hesitantly.
Regulus turned his dark eyes back to the enclosure. “The ultimate economic burden. Muggles have spent millions of dollars on conservation efforts - special diets, special habitats, special pornography. But the bears block them at every turn, declining to mate, refusing to thrive unless they’re treated like kings. And that’s what they want… To be kings. To rule us all!”
“O-kay, Regulus, I think it’s time you head to the dormitories.”
“Hermione, he’s right.”
Her eyes shot to Draco. “Oh, please. You can’t actually believe -”
“I’ve sent Kreacher in disguised as a clump of bamboo,” Regulus said over Hermione’s skepticism. “He should be back any minute now.”
Hermione froze. “You sent him in as bamboo? Pandas eat bamboo!”
Regulus looked at her, surprised, then turned back to the enclosure. “Well, this should be an interesting report then.”
Kreacher appeared before them with a sharp crack. Most of his bamboo was missing and the tufts of hair around his ears looked a little more wayward than usual, but he was otherwise unharmed.
Regulus knelt before him. “Kreacher, what did you find?”
They listened in silence to the elf’s report. By the time he had finished, Hermione’s knees felt wobbly. Regulus sent her an “I told you so” look and left hand-in-hand with Kreacher. Draco watched with crossed arms as she leaned up against the enclosure fence.
“The pandas are plotting to take over the park.”
“Aye. Mutiny.”
Hermione shook her head. “That’s impossible. They just got here.” She shook her head again. “I can’t do this on my own.”
Draco took a step closer to her and smiled. “I was hoping you would realize that soon. I have a proposition for you.”
She folded her arms over her chest and sighed. Men. “Draco, I’m really not in the mood right now.”
His smile widened, his grey eyes flicking appreciatively over her body. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Granger. My proposition is only slightly less sexual and will involve very little work on your part.”
Very little work, eh? That sounded promising. She gave him a sideways glance. “I’m listening.”
“Release me from my vows.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’d be sent straight back to Azkaban. Is that really better than leading the good ship Durmstrang on its daily tours?” Or being married to her? Though she made absolutely sure not to say that last part.
“No, it’s not, and no, I wouldn’t be. Under Wizengamot Law 1489, Article Q, Section 9, Subheading 1.1.2, pure-blood marriage vows can be altered without the marriage being completely dissolved when the planet is threatened by dichromatic furry beings under four feet tall. So just take out that pesky obey bit, give me my free will back, and I’ll help you get this place sorted. Savvy?”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’ll leave me.” Damn, why did that have to sound all… vulnerable?
His expression became serious. “I won’t. You’re still my best hope for amnesty, and I don’t plan to live the rest of my life on probation.”
“Then you’ll make my life a living hell.”
He closed the space between them. “Isn’t that what a husband is supposed to do?” He looked at her, his lips quirked from his joke and his eyes shining with something else, something…
“Besides, you have other assets that are far too entertaining to abandon at the moment.”
And he was back. No need to shake herself out of it and no need for self-retribution. Theirs was unequivocally and inexorably a marriage of convenience, and she had to remember that. No friendship, no romance, certainly nothing that had to do with that forbidden ‘L’ word. Nothing deep or meaningful here. Nope. Just a job to do, an heir to produce, and a fascination with each other’s chests.
She withdrew her wand and aimed it at the ring. A minute of concentration, some mumbly-jumbly Latin whatnot, and it was done. A small pulse of magic radiated over him, and Draco visibly relaxed.
“Thank you, Hermione. Now let’s get down to business.”
“Pansy quit.”
He furrowed his brow. “No, she didn’t. She’s just pouting and sex-starved. Apparently, Longbottom isn’t as desperate as she - or anyone else - thought. And park business can wait. We have business business to attend.” His eyes gravitated toward her chest again, and he smirked. “Wizengamot Law 1489, Article Q, Section 9, Subheading 1.1.3: All altered vows must be re-consummated, or else they are rendered moot within two hours of the alteration.”
Hermione rolled her eyes but enjoyed a secret smile as he took her hand and led her back to the Durmstrang. She always did enjoy following the rules.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Continue or ToC
Beta: dormiensa
A/N: Credit to Jay-Z (never thought I’d be typing that…) for the “99 Problems” lyric. And no, I’m not joking about panda porn. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panda_pornography
Hermione slumped down into her cushy captain’s chair, tossed her tricorn onto her overflowing inbox, and put her head into her hands.
The day had been an unmitigated disaster. Conflict after conflict had pushed her to the very edge of her sanity, and the brawl outside of the damn Ye Olde Cheese House was the nudge that sent her tumbling ever so daintily over the edge. It was a blur to her now: a literal flume of the addictive Havarti spanning all three floors, the air sizzling with the smell of flambéed saganaki, the fountain spewing molten nacho cheese upon all and sundry… It was enough to bring a cheese-lover to tears.
And Hermione did so love cheese.
Approaching footsteps prompted a great sniffle and a bout of hurried eye-blotting, though damned if she was going to put that hat on again. She composed herself just as the door opened.
“Are you preg -” Draco’s question died on his lips as he noticed her expression. Eyes wide, he lunged at her, arms extended, mouth open. Hermione braced herself for impact, oddly excited for the comfort that his arms - or any pair of arms, at that moment - would bring. Her disappointment as he stopped short could only mean that she truly had lost her marbles, and it turned to annoyance as he delicately plucked a piece of cheese out of her hair.
“I totally understand why they named it gouda,” he said after munching the morsel.
Hermione was not amused. “A fat lot of help you were today,” she snapped. “I had ninety-nine problems, and -”
“I wasn’t one.” He dropped into the chair beside her and lifted his feet onto her desk. “You told me to stay out of your way, remember?” Draco held up his left hand, flashing his wedding ring at her. “Captain’s orders and all that rot.”
She scowled at the manifestation of her own cleverness. Surely that wasn’t regret she was feeling. Probably just an aftereffect of smelling that rank Limburger.
“I overheard a conversation,” she began, “between Greyback and another employee. I think -”
Draco waved off her concern. “We’ve got bigger problems right now. Panda problems.”
It was her turn to be dismissive. “Draco, we have middle-aged mutant ninja turtles. I’m sure we can handle a few Muggle bears.”
He raised his eyebrows and held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
Hermione allowed herself to be led off the ship and through the park. She needed a moment to take in the nighttime silence, to breathe the cool air and de-stress. As she looked at the hulking structures, eerie black against the deep navy sky, she realized that they were not ready to open tomorrow. No way.
“Clearly,” Draco said with a wry laugh. Hermione flushed; she hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. “Not much we can do about it now, though.”
They stopped at the panda sanctuary in the Magical Menagerie; there was not a bear in sight.
“I fail to see -”
“She is smart,” came a voice from the shadows. Hermione jumped as Regulus sidled into the dim light. He nodded to Draco, then turned back to her. “It’s what you don’t see,” he repeated. “The bears. Humanity’s number one threat.”
He hit her with a significant look; Hermione fought the urge to back away slowly. “Panda bears?” she asked hesitantly.
Regulus turned his dark eyes back to the enclosure. “The ultimate economic burden. Muggles have spent millions of dollars on conservation efforts - special diets, special habitats, special pornography. But the bears block them at every turn, declining to mate, refusing to thrive unless they’re treated like kings. And that’s what they want… To be kings. To rule us all!”
“O-kay, Regulus, I think it’s time you head to the dormitories.”
“Hermione, he’s right.”
Her eyes shot to Draco. “Oh, please. You can’t actually believe -”
“I’ve sent Kreacher in disguised as a clump of bamboo,” Regulus said over Hermione’s skepticism. “He should be back any minute now.”
Hermione froze. “You sent him in as bamboo? Pandas eat bamboo!”
Regulus looked at her, surprised, then turned back to the enclosure. “Well, this should be an interesting report then.”
Kreacher appeared before them with a sharp crack. Most of his bamboo was missing and the tufts of hair around his ears looked a little more wayward than usual, but he was otherwise unharmed.
Regulus knelt before him. “Kreacher, what did you find?”
They listened in silence to the elf’s report. By the time he had finished, Hermione’s knees felt wobbly. Regulus sent her an “I told you so” look and left hand-in-hand with Kreacher. Draco watched with crossed arms as she leaned up against the enclosure fence.
“The pandas are plotting to take over the park.”
“Aye. Mutiny.”
Hermione shook her head. “That’s impossible. They just got here.” She shook her head again. “I can’t do this on my own.”
Draco took a step closer to her and smiled. “I was hoping you would realize that soon. I have a proposition for you.”
She folded her arms over her chest and sighed. Men. “Draco, I’m really not in the mood right now.”
His smile widened, his grey eyes flicking appreciatively over her body. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Granger. My proposition is only slightly less sexual and will involve very little work on your part.”
Very little work, eh? That sounded promising. She gave him a sideways glance. “I’m listening.”
“Release me from my vows.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’d be sent straight back to Azkaban. Is that really better than leading the good ship Durmstrang on its daily tours?” Or being married to her? Though she made absolutely sure not to say that last part.
“No, it’s not, and no, I wouldn’t be. Under Wizengamot Law 1489, Article Q, Section 9, Subheading 1.1.2, pure-blood marriage vows can be altered without the marriage being completely dissolved when the planet is threatened by dichromatic furry beings under four feet tall. So just take out that pesky obey bit, give me my free will back, and I’ll help you get this place sorted. Savvy?”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You’ll leave me.” Damn, why did that have to sound all… vulnerable?
His expression became serious. “I won’t. You’re still my best hope for amnesty, and I don’t plan to live the rest of my life on probation.”
“Then you’ll make my life a living hell.”
He closed the space between them. “Isn’t that what a husband is supposed to do?” He looked at her, his lips quirked from his joke and his eyes shining with something else, something…
“Besides, you have other assets that are far too entertaining to abandon at the moment.”
And he was back. No need to shake herself out of it and no need for self-retribution. Theirs was unequivocally and inexorably a marriage of convenience, and she had to remember that. No friendship, no romance, certainly nothing that had to do with that forbidden ‘L’ word. Nothing deep or meaningful here. Nope. Just a job to do, an heir to produce, and a fascination with each other’s chests.
She withdrew her wand and aimed it at the ring. A minute of concentration, some mumbly-jumbly Latin whatnot, and it was done. A small pulse of magic radiated over him, and Draco visibly relaxed.
“Thank you, Hermione. Now let’s get down to business.”
“Pansy quit.”
He furrowed his brow. “No, she didn’t. She’s just pouting and sex-starved. Apparently, Longbottom isn’t as desperate as she - or anyone else - thought. And park business can wait. We have business business to attend.” His eyes gravitated toward her chest again, and he smirked. “Wizengamot Law 1489, Article Q, Section 9, Subheading 1.1.3: All altered vows must be re-consummated, or else they are rendered moot within two hours of the alteration.”
Hermione rolled her eyes but enjoyed a secret smile as he took her hand and led her back to the Durmstrang. She always did enjoy following the rules.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Continue or ToC