Disclaimer: All identifiable characters of the harry Potter series belong to J.K.Rowling
Chapter-2
Unforeseen Novice Tragedy
The relief at having resolved the issue of cookery in the kitchen did not last long, as securing an appointment with the Recruitment Board of the IMHMH was proving to be much more complicated than was presumed earlier. Even with Harry's reputation, the two friends had failed to obtain any form of contact details from the institute. Repeated disappointment paved way for agitation and Ron's moods were altering with impromptu rapidity. Harry himself had slowly given up hope and picked up the batter for preparing the agreed breakfast of pancakes that he could manage to cook up without burning or other accidental mishaps. It was Monday today, almost two weeks after they had sent a letter to the institute.
"Harry," Ron began, "I don't think we are getting a cook anytime soon."
Balancing the delicate pancake on a wooden spatula, Harry answered without turning his attention from the job he was involved in.
"Don't…give up," he licked his lips as the distance between the pan and the plate was reduced considerably, "We will…man…age…Ugghh!!" The pancake toppled from the support and fell to the floor; its crème remains splattered, mocking Harry.
"Exactly what I meant. Nothing is going to change and I'll have to lick pancake off the floor now. Smashing."
"Well, at least it is pancake. Not like the burnt turkey you cooked last night," muttered Harry, irritated with his shaking hands and the slippery pancake. This had been an apposite opportunity to show Ron that he, Harry, could perform any task with great dexterity and precision if need be. That he was not the hero of the wizarding world for namesake. Seriously, cooking was tougher than killing Voldemort and hunting Horcruxes. Heck, even courting Ginny was simpler; under Ron's nose no less.
"It was duck, not turkey."
"Burnt duck and turkey taste the same, anyway. No difference."
"Harry-"
However, the rest of Ron's retort was stifled by the screech of a huge tawny owl, swooping through the window. There was a black parchment attached to its leg and the silvery script on it could be deciphered even from a distance. The bird perched itself handsomely on the dining table and stuck out the letter carrying leg towards Ron. With shaking fingers, he removed the parchment and looked at Harry nervously.
"Do you reckon this is…that?"
At Harry's assenting nod, he broke open the seal which was in the form of a knife and fork crossed over a silver goblet, the letters IMHMH encircling it and began to read silently. Harry, too, read the contents from above Ron's shoulder.
This is an official document in reply to the request put forth by Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley. If delivered to anyone other than the named gentlemen, kindly send back to the address on the envelope through the owl itself.
19 June 2008
To
Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley
Subject: Reply to letter dated 04 June 2008 – Recruit Required
It gives us, at IMHMH, great pleasure to hear from the two very accomplished wizards of today's age. At the outset, let me extend my heartiest good wishes the two of you. Though this is an official letter, I deem it my duty to enquire of the well-being of the two sirs.
As per your request, it has come to our attention that you hope to employ one of our senior graduates at your house. Indeed it is honorable that our humble institute may be linked to such skilful wizards. However, the recruitment policy issued by the Recruitment Board clearly states that employing of alumnae outside the campus is to be done at a household which includes at least one male as well as female member. It is mandatory that a woman be part of the house to which the recruitment is assigned, as old wizarding manuscripts clearly indicate that ladies are much more skilled at culinary inference than males. Hence, it is hereby requested than you be present at The Institute for Magical Hotel Management and Housekeeping on 20 June 2008 at 10:00 am with a female family member or friend. We shall discuss the details of the program at the scheduled meeting.
We hope to hear from you soon. Beware that conscription may be done only in the presence of a woman or witch.
Thanking you
Sincerely yours
Canabhurst Crabbe
Dean, IMHMH.
"Crabbe?!" exclaimed Ron, "He is head of this institute? Isn't he that fat uncle of Malfoy's sidekick?"
However, Harry was more focused on the part of the letter that clearly claimed that attendance was to be in the company of a woman who was part of the household.
"I'll kill you the instant we get away with the cook."
The declaration was voiced in a deserted alley by a rather tall woman with flowing russet hair that looked a bit too long to be natural. Her physique itself was very firm and strong with rather toned arms. At first glance, she might have been mistaken for a gym instructor clad in mismatching clothes. A green halter top accented her extra large cleavage while a pink skirt showed off a robust backside. The embarrassment of poor clothing choice was hidden by a brown cloak, which coordinated with the hair smoothly.
"Well, the letter did say a woman was mandatory."
"Yeah…but not man turned to woman, you prat. Imagine what Fred and George would say if they were to see me like this?"
"Let me think," the black haired man accompanying the woman rubbed his chin, as though in deep thought, "Perhaps, 'You are sooo beautiful!!'"
"Shut it, Harry," the woman snarled, her blue eyes glinting, more with discomfiture than anger, "let's just get this over with."
"Whatever you say, my darling! Your wish is my command, Roahna dear."
"Oh, how you are going to get it!!"
The two friends sneaked out of the alleyway with the occasional chuckles of Harry disturbing the otherwise quiet atmosphere. After receiving the message from the institute, Harry and Ron had approached Ginny to be part of the family as her engagement with Harry was much anticipated. However, the fiery Weasley had clearly refused to partake in any of the men's wild plans. Disappointed, but still hopeful, they had then cornered Hermione and put forward the same proposal. But the brunette had spent an hour lecturing them on the advantages of honesty and its significance in every Gryffindor's life. Ron had yawned and seeing this she had spent another fifteen minutes reprimanding him. Then in the form of a suggestion, which Harry secretly thought of as sweet revenge, she told them to choose between themselves and dress up as a female. Ron had again argued that the suggestion was too devious to be categorized under the realm of honesty to which Hermione had glared and said, "Take it or don't, I'll still have good food to eat."
So, finally Harry had convinced Ron to dress up as Roahna Martin, his close half blood widowed cousin, who had been estranged in Somalia for twenty years and returned to England to look up job opportunities in Gringotts. Ron, being Ron, had fought tooth and nail, saying that he was taller and more masculine and hence the female role was more suited for Harry. Harry, in turn, had pointed out that Ron was much more graceful and skilled in mimicry, thus winning the argument easily.
They now stood before a rather imposing building that to muggles looked like an abandoned restaurant which was closed down due to low funds and an ever-growing infection of moss on the walls. Roahna took Harry's arm as was planned and the two entered the building. With a peon's help, they made their way to the Dean's office that was up three levels and easy to reach through the golden grilled lifts.
"Are you sure this will work? I mean I'm not exactly a woman…I'm so tall and he would think of us as Hagrid and Madam Maxim."
"Doesn't matter as long as we get someone for housework. Glamour charms work wonders. According to Hermione, at least."
At the mention of the she-devil's name who had played a major role in transforming Ron Weasley into the powder drowned joker, the he-female grimaced.
"Yeah," he sighed resignedly, "as long as. Who do you think we will have? Girl or boy?"
Exasperated by his friend's fruitless anxiety, Harry groaned. "Relax, alright! We aren't going for your first childbirth. Honestly, girl or boy?! Easy, Ron.
"Remember, you do not talk to the Dean. If he asks you anything, answer in a believable fashion and don't disclose anything through your behavior."
At Ron's, rather Roahna's, somewhat assertive nod, the two moved swiftly to the indicated office of the Head of IMHMH.
"Ah, Mr. Potter," the bald man seated on the cushioned seat behind the Dean's table greeted, "What a pleasure to be of your service!" He then shook hands with Harry and bowed at Ron, kissing his hand ardently. The brunette in turn scowled and pulled off a grim smile.
"Charmed, Miss. Am truly charmed," he exclaimed, "If I may be so forward, would you be kind to enlighten me with your good name?" Behind his back, Harry turned green, while Ron was fighting hard to unclench his fist.
"Roahna Martin," he croaked in a weak voice, "I'm Harry's cousin."
"Wonderful, delightful. I have never seen or heard of you before. However, the wait is worth it. You are sooo…beautiful," the bellied man drawled, eyeing Roahna's bulging cleavage. Harry made a disgusted face, confused whether to laugh or cry at the man's attempt at seduction of the lowest order.
"Mr. Crabbe," he began, before Ron could pummel the burly wizard, "We have been waiting too long for an appointment."
As though just realizing that someone else was in the room, Crabbe turned his hawk like eyes at Harry.
"Indeed," he started, "Our institute is premier in name and reputation. Even celebrities like you have to wait in order to secure a meeting time. Standard procedure, you see. Anyway, regarding your request, we have selected one of our very best graduates. He is smart, talented and the top ranker of our school. I say, you are really fortunate to bag him as an apprentice; one of the most prominent students and belonging to the highest-flying wizarding family. There is a fifteen minute talk session to adjudge his character and a contract to be signed. In case you two are agreeable, we can proceed."
Harry looked at Ron in question, who nodded his consent in as much of a womanly fashion as he could. Canabhurst Crabbe, in turn sent a memo flying through the door.
"He is rather sharp-witted, but a very amiable fellow nevertheless."
The trio waited about ten minutes in silence, after which there was a soft knock on the door.
"Come in," said Crabbe.
The door opened to reveal a tall, well-groomed man with a pale complexion and even paler hair. He stood there, dressed in one of the best cloaks Harry had ever seen, and scanned the room. A raised eyebrow was the sole sign of recognition on his sharp features and curious grey eyes turned to Ron.
"YOU!?" the woman a.k.a man screamed. Harry was impressed that he could pull off such a girlish screech in a situation like this.
"Yes?" the man replied calmly, still not recognizing Ron.
"Yes?" Crabbe cried, scared by Ron's rapidly reddening face.
The whole scene was indeed strange with Ron heaving his heavy chest and the supposedly chosen apprentice examining his fingernails. Harry was yet to shut his mouth and Crabbe was nudging Ron with a glass of water in hand. Unexpectedly, the brunette began laughing, a full-on blast of howl included laughter.
"You are a cook? A cook? A cook? Harry…he…ferret…cook," Ron snorted, struggling hard to breathe.
"Err, Miss Martin, if I may be so forward, may I enquire why you are laughing?"
But Ron was too consumed in his mirth to hear. Harry did not find the situation the least bit funny. Finding out that your school nemesis was about to become a full time chef in your house was certainly no laughing matter. Harry was not all that fond of food poisoning.
At last, Crabbe seemed to realize the gravity of the situation at hand and ignored Ron completely who was still trying to force down chuckles.
"So, Mr. Potter and Miss Martin let me introduce to you-"
"Draco Malfoy," Harry answered for him, extending a hand to shake in greeting.
"Harry Potter, isn't it?" Malfoy smirked, as though he were unsure of Harry's identity, taking his proffered hand and giving it a firm shake.
The shocked atmosphere seemed to have subsided. Ron was gleefully adjusting his long hair and Crabbe was looking from Harry to Draco with interest.
"Mr. Crabbe," Harry said softly, still eyeing Malfoy, "Let me apologize for wasting your precious time, but we do not want a household help anymore."
The announcement drew Ron away from his hilarity and he turned his head towards Harry with incredulity etched on his features. Standing up suddenly, he dragged the other man along with him after flashing a wide smile at Canabhurst.
"You aren't serious, are you?"
"Of course, I'm," Harry replied indignantly, "You don't expect me to eat whatever Malfoy cooks. I may have survived a killing curse but poison is immediate in effect."
"Harry," Ron hushed, looking surreptitiously at the other two men in the room, "This is once in a lifetime opportunity. Malfoy at our mercy, just imagine!"
"There is nothing to imagine. This is inviting disaster and I am personally least inclined to do so."
"But Harry, we'll have a fully trained chef at home. If Crabbe is right, then Malfoy is a top student here and if he tries poisoning us, then he'll land up in Azkaban; what with his history and all."
"Still-"
"Say no more!" Ron held up a hand, silencing him, "In case he tries something funny, I'll take all responsibility and you wouldn't need to know a thing."
"Ron-"
"It's fine. Mr. Crabbe," Ron called, "We are ready to fill up the forms."
After about an hour the trio of two men and a taller woman strolled out of the alleyway before the institute. Harry was agitated with the new turn of events and was perturbed by Malfoy's strange behaviour. At the outset, he had believed that the blond would react violently to even the suggestion of serving Ron or him. However, instead of the usual viciousness, he had shown indifference of the greatest degree coupled with a bout of curiosity to know Ron's identity.
"Potter," Draco drawled, "I thought you had a thing for that Weasley girl. Redheads boring you?"
Oh, spoke too soon, thought Harry. Apparently, flaxen ferrets do not change.
"I can understand. No wonder you left her brother as well. Disgusting lot, I tell you."
The comment was a hard hit for Harry and Ron suddenly stopped smiling.
"Of course," he continued, "Now that you have turned to brunettes, I would have expected Granger to be your first choice."
At the mention of Hermione's name, Ron pushed the blond to a nearby wall, waving a threatening finger before his face. "Don't you dare talk about Hermione like that."
Harry cast a quick disillusionment charm on the surrounding and turned his wand towards Malfoy. Instead of cowering in fear as a thirteen year old Draco would have done, the elder version laughed mockingly.
"My, my Weasley, so desperate that you change your gender for Potter dearest? Your standards have degraded even below the usual low."
"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron snarled, "before I break your neck."
"Are you going to...break my neck in your new womanly approach?"
"The approach hardly matters as long as the neck is yours."
That seemed to have done the trick or rather the blond was just bored with the two men terrorizing him with blunt threats. Shaking off Ron's vicious hold on his neck and eyeing Harry's wand with disinterest, he marched off in front of them.
"You both going to show me your house this century?" he asked without turning.
Harry shot a glare at Ron. He had expected Malfoy to take on his git attitude just as he had done in school and during the war. Now that the three were to live in the same apartment, it became clear to him that the usual calm of his life was sure to be disrupted. Enduring Ron had been tough and the introduction of Malfoy into the mess would redefine the word mess itself. He had foreseen a life filled with trouble as soon as he had caught sight of the blond at the institute and so had immediately refused to appoint him as a chef at his place.
"Nasty ferret!" Ron murmured low, looking at Harry as though he were expecting some sort of approval. On seeing his friend's angry glare, however, he blinked.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing, Ron," he replied calmly, "Malfoy may be nasty but he never invited himself into our lives. This was all your brilliant idea and you promised to take responsibility. So, for a start why don't you take him to our flat? I'm out of here."
"But Harry-" Ron began, taken aback by the wizard's change in temper.
"See you," Harry smiled, waving a hand in farewell and disapparated to their flat. The redhead stared at the empty space vacated by his best mate. Looking up, he caught sight of Malfoy smirking at him in the irritating way that he had presumed he'd never see after his school days.
"Aw…trouble in paradise, eh Weasley?"
Ron refused to give the blond the satisfaction of seeing his face redden further and adjusted the magical brown locks on his head in as much of a dignified manner as he could. Now that there was no pretending, he resembled a woman born with the typical traits of a man. The picture thus presented was a bit unsettling and Draco had to bite his lip to keep from laughing uproariously. Trust Weasley to fancy dress.
"Stuff it Malfoy and get to No.16, Gadstreet Avenue as fast as you can. I like hot coffee for brunch."
"Perhaps you misunderstood my job description. I'll prepare what I like and you'll eat. Playing waiter is something I have no experience with."
"As if I care," Ron grumbled, "Just get home soon."
Thereafter he swiftly apparated thinking that at least the edible food the blond cooks would outshine his prick attitude. He did not know then that he had made a deal with the devil, a smirking, annoying git at that.
