Oh lookie here, another story! Isn't it lovely?
I should be studying for midterms right now but pffft this is way more fun.
I don't own Harry Potter or Doctor Who.
...
"Pleeeeeaaaaasee," he begged, kneeling at her feet. He stared up at her with large puppy dog eyes, or as Clara called it 'big sad eyes', hoping that she would agree to his plan.
"Doctor." She said staring right back into his emerald green eyes with her chocolatey brown ones.
"Oh come on Hermione, it's her birthday!" He exclaimed dramatically flinging his arms out as he stood up. Hermione flinched as he did so, afraid to get accidentally wacked in the face because yes, it's actually happened before. And yes, it'll probably happen again.
"You know it's gestures like this that make me doubt your relationship with Clara is completely platonic." Hermione said as she seated herself up onto the TARDIS' kitchen counter. The TARDIS gave an annoyed groan as she did so, causing Hermione to stroke the countertop and apologise softly. The TARDIS, now content with the apology gave an appreciative wheeze and allowed Hermione to remain sitting on her countertop.
"Are you sure you and Clara aren't in a secret relationship?" Hermione asked after her conversation of sorts with the TARDIS. Hermione watched with a grin on her face as the Doctor began to blush and fluster and splutter incoherent objections. "Relax, just teasing." She continued with an amused grin, swinging her legs from her seat on the countertop.
The Doctor visibly relaxed with a loud sigh. He was no longer blushing and was instead glaring at Hermione as he straightened his bow tie. "That wasn't very nice." He pouted.
"Says the man who kidnapped me into his TARDIS to help him bake a soufflé." Hermione countered with a huff, crossing her arms.
"Oi! I didn't kidnap you!" The Doctor replied.
"I was exaggerating to make a point." Hermione said.
"Why can't you help me make a soufflé?" The Doctor whined.
"Doctor. Listen to me. I'm a witch. Not a chef." Hermione said slowly as if she was speaking to a small child.
"But baking's like potions, right? Mixing things together, you know. Just can you please please help me?" He pleaded.
"Why don't you just buy one?"
"Why don't you conjure one?"
"Because that's not how magic works you space dumbo." Hermione replied sticking her tongue out at him. "But I'll help you bake your soufflé." She relented.
"Yes!" The Doctor shouted, pumping his fists into the air victoriously, nearly punching Hermione in the face before giving her sheepish smile.
"Let's just get this over with." Hermione said sliding off the counter and grabbing a bowl and a whisk from the cabinet and an apron off of the wall.
...
Clara walked into the TARDIS' kitchen to see a giant mess. Flour was everywhere and the smell of burnt soufflés wafted across the room. There was a plethora of messy bowls in the sink, discarded eggshells littered across the floor, and soufflé batter was dripping from the ceiling. The Doctor was sleeping on the floor hugging a chef's hat, egg yolks in his dark brown hair and milk drenching his apron. Hermione was unconcious on the kitchen counter, flour dusting her hair and clothes and a pat of butter on her nose.
Clara sighed. This was an interesting birthday indeed.
...
So that was fun. I should go study now.