This is the story, of a certain Hermione Granger and how her craving became too much that she couldn't sleep and simply had to get out of bed to get rid of it.
Or simply, Hermione Granger and the Enormous Craving.
Or Hermione Granger and the Chamber of the Tickled Pear.
Or Hermione Granger and the Order of the Cake.
Or… well, you get the picture.
Now, Hermione had always been weird. All the more when she found out she was a witch. But even this was beyond her realm of weirdness. Surely, no one craved a strawberry–topped, chocolate–filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing at two o'clock in the morning!
…Unless of course, they were out of their mind or pregnant, and last she checked her hymen was still in tact so she was definitely not pregnant (though she counted the days to her period and prodded her breasts, just in case someone was shagging her in her sleep – she was a heavy sleeper like that – and was pleased to note that she was still in schedule and there was no tenderness. Indeed, definitely, not pregnant) and definitely out of her mind.
Gods, did they even make, strawberry–topped, chocolate–filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing at two o'clock in the morning? She certainly hoped they did cause this craving was not going anywhere until she satisfied it!
And there was only one way to satisfy her craving…
It was time to tickle the pear.
Asking the house elves for help went entirely against her beliefs but, the little buggers were just being so sweet and attentive and caring – at two o'clock in the morning no less! – that it wasn't helping her already poor and frail condition. She wanted to resist, she really did! She was dead set on resisting!
Well that lasted all of five seconds.
The conversation went as such:
"Miss Hermione! What is you doing here, at such a late hour!"
"Erm, hello Honky… you don't happen to have a slice of strawberry–topped, chocolate–filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing lying around, do you?"
"Miss Hermione, I is sorry but I has never heard of such a cake!"
"Oh…"
"Though Honky would be happy to make you one!"
"But, I wouldn't want to trouble you…"
"Honky insists, miss!"
Pause.
"Ok."
And that was the end of it. Zip, nada, done. She could do nothing but comply.
Damn elf and their damn powers… Why weren't they rulers of the world again? Well, no matter. Honky was going to make her cake. Now that was a matter of importance.
So this is where we find Hermione Granger on a Friday night (or was it Saturday morning, seeing as it was two am, now two–thirty?), about to eat a strawberry–topped, chocolate–filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing to satisfy her craving.
Now remember when I said that this was the story of a certain Hermione Granger and how her craving became too much that she couldn't sleep and simply had to get out of bed to get rid of it? Well, it is.
But that is not entirely where the story ends.
Because at that moment, as Hermione was about to take her very first bite of strawberry–topped, chocolate–filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing, the door to the kitchens opened and in came Draco Malfoy.
Not a sound was heard as their eyes made contact. Hermione was in the middle of taking a bite of cake, her hand suspended in the air and her mouth hanging open while Malfoy was in the process of taking off his robe (it was quite hot in the kitchens compared to the castle halls).
Oh, if only there was a word apt enough to describe the feeling one gets when placed in an inconvenient, embarrassing, terribly uncomfortable, certainly abnormal and ungainly situation!
Oh right, there was:
Awkwaaaard.
And how unfortunate to be caught at such a position, she thought, fork halfway to her mouth and said mouth open as if she were about to catch flies in it. Her clothes were disheveled from tossing and turning earlier in the night and her hair!
She wouldn't even dare go there.
No matter, she would simply ignore him. And that would have been fine had he not uttered, "Granger," with a curt nod in her direction.
Their eyes were still locked and she blushed, finally lowering her head to stare into her cake. Now what? She thought, how was she going to explain–
"What the hell, is that?"
–her cake?
Well, this was spiraling quickly.
Hermione hugged her strawberry–topped, chocolate–filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing cake close to her, or, as close as it could be seeing as it was a cake and cakes weren't meant to be hugged. They were meant to be eaten.
Ah, there was an idea! Why wasn't she doing that?
She was about to raise the fork to her lips when she heard a scuffle.
"Well?"
Oh right, that's why.
Malfoy had moved from his place at the door to pulling up a seat across from her in the quite small table and was looking at her food with a mix of curiosity and disgust. She huffed and glared at him, once again disrupting the journey of her fork from the plate to her mouth.
"What's it to you?" She subconsciously moved the plate a little closer to her. "What are you doing here anyway?"
He gave her a weird look as if to say, are you daft? and snottily replied, "Same reason as you, I suppose? I was hungry. People who go to the kitchens usually arrive in that sort of state."
She rolled her eyes. So what, he was right. Didn't mean she was going to admit it or anything.
"Whatever. Just stay. away."
Once again, Hermione stared deeply into her cutlery and raised it to poise perfectly over her mouth when she was so rudely interrupted by him. Again.
"What is that? That looks positively revolting!"
She groaned. "Isn't there a house elf you should be terrorizing right now?"
"I'd much rather terrorize you." He smirked, eyes glinting mischievously in the light of the kitchens. "Seems to be working, I think." She glared fiercely at him and resisted the urge to smash his face against the tabletop.
"Sod off, Malfoy. This is my strawberry–topped, chocolate–filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing and you can't have any."
His eyes widened, "Your what?"
"My strawberry–topped, chocolate–filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing!" She glanced down at her aforementioned cake with unconcealed happiness and affection, giving a dainty whiff and enjoying the perfect mix of smells she detected, strawberry being the strongest and coffee the next.
It worked so perfectly, she nearly wept.
Unable to wait any longer, her fork made the descent to her mouth when Malfoy's own hand stopped that path.
"I swear to Merlin I will use this fork to gouge your eyes–"
"But that's not possible! How can it be a tiramisu and a cheesecake? They're two completely different things!"
She growled, "I don't bloody care I just want to–"
"Peculiar," muttered Malfoy, who was staring intently at her slice of cake, causing her to inspect it as well.
Perhaps slice wasn't entirely too apt a word to describe it. Although technically, it was a slice, the thing could have been a cake all on its own for it looked more like a quarter of a particularly gargantuan cake at the size of it.
"What was it that you called it again?"
"A strawberry–topped, chocolate–filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing."
Malfoy hummed. "Well, clearly it is topped with strawberries, hence the 'strawberry-topped' part." He placed his nose on top of the cake that it was nearly making contact with one of the strawberries. He sniffed gently.
"How very astute of you," she said dryly.
"And I can see the layer of chocolate right down in the middle so that covers the chocolate filled section." He said, pointing to the strip of brown lodged between a layer of sponge cake and a bed of what appeared to be crushed ladyfingers.
She glanced exasperatedly at him. "Are we breaking down my cake now?"
"And the mocha icing is very much present." He said while swiveling the plate so that the part of the cake covered in icing was facing him. His finger was a hair's width away from touching it.
"I am well aware, seeing as I can smell it from here." Her tone was sarcastic, but Malfoy nodded along, completely absorbed in his inspection of her precious cake.
He ran his tongue over the back of his two, upper front teeth. "The coffee too. That must be the tiramisu aspect of the cake. The sponge cake's reeking of it. That must mean, the bottom layer is the cheesecake part. Looks like savoiardi to me, though I can't know for certain unless I try."
"Yes, unless I. try." Hermione heavily emphasized the last two words and was about to act on it when he interrupted her fork's trip to her mouth, once more.
"I don't think you should."
Her jaw fell. "Excuse me?"
"I don't think you should." He said, in all seriousness.
"And why not?"
"I know it seems perfectly reasonable, but I have a feeling it's going to taste awful."
She glared. "And why exactly is that? You have no basis."
He merely shrugged and said, "I just really have a bad feeling about this."
"Go and have an apple pie then!"
He just stared intently at the cake and bit his lip, almost as if he thought if he stared at it hard enough it would disintegrate. "Honestly," she muttered, "it's as if you haven't had a strawberry–topped, chocolate–filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing before."
It was now his jaw that fell, his eyes glazed with incredulity. "That's because I haven't, Granger! No one has!"
Hermione pulled at her hair and half-screamed, half-groaned. "I JUST WANTED TO SATISFY MY CRAVING. I JUST WANTED CAKE! A STRAWBERRY–TOPPED, CHOCOLATE–FILLED, TIRAMISU CHEESECAKE WITH MOCHA ICING ONE!"
She raised the fork to her lips but he stopped her with a hand to hers, for the last time. "For the love of Merlin–"
"Don't do it, Granger."
Exasperated, she glared at him, trying to figure out his deal and he glanced at her before glancing back down to stare at the cake, licking his upper lip.
And that's when it hit her.
"Honky!" Hermione called with a snap of her fingers.
"Hello, miss Hermy! Is there something wrong with the cake?"
For a moment, she was seriously concerned for her behavior towards the house elf, but there Honky appeared before her, his eyes wide with worry and ears folded just so that he looked so sad…
"Oh, no, no there's nothing wrong, I'm so happy at the turnout actually!" Just not at who turned up, she thought.
The elf's demeanor brightened, his ears raising with hope and he clapped. "Honky only wishes to serve you miss!" And his eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
He looked so endearing that Hermione just melted like putty.
"I do have one request."
"Yes?" The elf's ears were flapping so quickly she would have been worried he would fly away if there was even an inkling that that was possible.
"A fork, for Malfoy here, if you please."
"Certainly!" A snap and a fork appeared immediately beside Malfoy's hand, he nearly jumped. Nearly.
"Anything else miss?" Honky asked hopefully.
"Thanks but, that will be all." She said, and at the dejected look on the elf's face she quickly added, "For now."
With a final smile and bow, Honky left with a pop!
When she turned to her human companion, she noticed him looking at the fork with confusion. With a sigh she said to him, "If you're so intent on proving that this cake is wrong," she pushed the plate just a little towards him, "would you like to try it with me?"
His only reply was to stare at her this time, as to why she could only guess.
"This isn't a ploy to poison you or anything cause why would I be eating it?"
He glared at her, "Unlike some people in this room" pointed look at her "I am not daft. I was merely assessing if I heard you right."
At that, he picked up his fork and she was so giddy she wouldn't be interrupted anymore that her toes were curling. She fingered her fork, lifting it in line with her mouth when he said, "Wait."
Her eye twitched. Like, really twitched and for a moment, Malfoy was scared. But he batted that emotion away. Through gritted teeth she said, "What."
"If I die, I am holding you entirely accountable–"
"I am going to KI–"
"–and on the slight chance we survive this and come out very much alive but wretched, I think we should go have that apple pie."
We? she thought, since when were they a we? Since when did Malfoy become such an integral part of her night? Urgh, she groaned, it didn't matter. She just wanted to eat her damn cake!
"Fine, fine, fine."
"On the count of three then."
She rolled her eyes, but complied.
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
Finally, her cutlery had fulfilled its journey and was now trapped between her lips as Hermione scoured every inch of the tines to make sure none of the cake escaped her.
A burst of flavors erupted on her tongue and she felt her eyes widen. Across her, she could see Malfoy's expression was a mirror of her own, his eyes just as wide.
After all that waiting, it came down to this.
As if coming to a mutual agreement, the pair each spat out their bite of cake.
"Water," Draco heaved. "I need water!"
"That was… that was…" Hermione spluttered as she struggled to take breaths.
"Wretched. Wretched and abominable. It tasted like sour beer and ass."
She looked incredulously at him and he amended, "or, at least, how I imagine ass would taste like."
She glanced at him.
"Apple pie it is, then?"
"With vanilla ice cream."
They both called.
"Honky!"
Fifteen minutes found the pair happily gorging on their apple pie, topped with vanilla ice cream of course and going over the events of the past hour in dismay.
"Didn't I tell you?" Said one Draco Malfoy with supreme smugness emanating from his voice.
A certain Hermione Granger, the perpetrator of the past events, looked appropriately abashed. "Alright, alright, I concede." She took a bite of her pie, which, aside from the vanilla ice cream, had whipped cream and chocolate syrup all over it. "Though, to be fair, you too were curious."
"Of course! It was a monstrosity, kind of like Frankenstein and his own monster. Frankenstein was curious about bringing to life a corpse through the use of electricity, was he not? He was curious in that branch of science."
She looked at him, thoroughly appalled. "You did not just compare the past events to Frankenstein."
"I believe I just did."
"Victor feared his creation in the end. He was even disgusted with it!"
He pointed his fork at her. "Exactly."
She shook her head as he took a bite of his pie, strictly vanilla ice cream topped only. "How did you even come across Frankenstein? Mary Shelly was a muggle."
He merely shrugged. "You can never be too well read."
She could only marvel at him when he said that, dropping her fork with a clang on her plate in shock. "Aren't you a barrel of surprises."
"As are you."
She looked confused. "I am?"
He did that thing where he stared intently, except he wasn't staring at a cake or pie this time. His intent stare was directed at her, and though she had nothing to hide or hold together, she felt quite undone.
He nodded. "Perhaps, a barrel of mysteries would be more appropriate."
"How so?"
He gave her an amused look, "I have never known anyone to crave a strawberry–topped, chocolate–filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing before. At three in the morning no less."
"Do you consider it a bad thing?"
He seemed to seriously ponder her question and she was worried for a moment that he was actually thinking of an insult, despite the events that had just occurred. But her worries were baseless.
"Not at all." He answered. "This can't be the first time you craved something so odd. I think I should like to explore more of your mysteries."
There was a mischievous glint in his eyes and it was doing maddening things to her toes right now, like making it curl. And it felt like an army of ants was crawling up and down her spine. An army of cold ants.
"Only if you tell me what other muggle books you've read."
He smiled. "It's a date."
"I'll hold you out on that one." She laughed. There was a blush, making its way up to her cheeks. She tried to blame it on the heat of the kitchens but really, Draco Malfoy, the Draco Malfoy had just asked her out on a date!
And it wasn't even that he was the most handsome bloke in school, or the most wealthy or the most intelligent (though he was all three) that did her in. It was the fact that he had probably seen her at her ugliest – her hair a mess and her clothes all baggy since she was wearing sweatpants and a too large shirt – and certainly at her weirdest, and yet he still wanted to take her out.
It seemed she wasn't the only barrel of mysteries around.
Picking up her fork once more, she resumed feasting on her apple pie. She put a lot of whipped cream and chocolate into her next bite and seemed very pleased for she made a little sound of pleasure.
Draco looked up at her with amusement etched on his face. He could certainly get used to this.
"That's a lot of sugar."
She released the fork from the confines of her mouth with a pop! and smiled widely. "Despite having dentists as parents, I developed a sweet tooth. It used to drive my mum and dad mad!"
He was about to ask her what den-tiss were but was distracted by something at the corner of her mouth. She was about to duck her head for another forkful of pie but he stopped the cutlery's descent.
"Really Draco, what is it now? Are you going to assess my maneuvering of the fork?"
He smiled at the use of his first name but ignored her questions. Instead, he brought the hand that was hindering hers to rest on her neck. He placed a thumb on the corner of her mouth, and gently rubbed away the whipped cream that was there. He glanced at her mouth then to her eyes.
He did not remove his hand.
"You had something right there."
Breathlessly, she merely replied, "Thanks."
She glanced briefly at his mouth and then straight back to his eyes that he found his lips forming into a smirk at the gesture. She looked mildly guilty but there was something else there too. It was then he asked,
"Would you like to meet here again, tomorrow?"
Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew he was breaking a social, dating rule out there; something about appearing to eager or what not. Honestly, he couldn't bring himself to care that much. He didn't see it before, but he saw it now. There was something in the twinkle of Hermione Granger's eyes that was drawing him in and it was time he explored that.
She smiled at him and he could feel himself becoming undone.
"Come to think of it, I might just crave for a lemon-and-sweet-potato-filled tart topped with sesame seeds. Worth a try, yeah?"
Draco rubbed her cheek a bit before pulling back and giving her a little smile of his own. And though she was referring to giving the tart a try, he thought about her and the things they ought to try when he answered, "Absolutely."
And so, this was the story, of a certain Hermione Granger and how her craving became too much that she couldn't sleep and simply had to get out of bed to get rid of it.
Though she entered the kitchens with the intent of getting rid of a certain strawberry–topped, chocolate–filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing craving and succeeded (there was no way she was craving that particular monstrosity again), she went out of the kitchens with an entirely new craving, the kind that would not be easily abated by just a taste.
And no, it had nothing to do with a pale-skinned, fine-haired, gray-eyed, intent-staring ferret.
Or… maybe it did. A little.
It was a weird concept, really. Her and Malfoy. But then again, she had always been a weird sort. And she couldn't get this kind of craving – craving him – out of her head, just like that. No.
This craving was not going anywhere until she satisfied it!
And there was only one way to satisfy her craving…
A/N: Despite what was said in the story, Tiramisu cheesecake does in fact exist and is actually quite good! Strawberry-topped, chocolate-filled, tiramisu cheesecake with mocha icing cake and lemon-and-sweet-potato-filled tart topped with sesame seeds on the other hand, are not in existence. But you're very much welcome to try to make one!
You could even tell me all about your cake making experiences or your odd cravings in a review! (hint, hint)