Author's Note (2011): I've posted a comedic Dramione one-shot titled Relaxation Yoga, if you're not yet aware. As well I started and finished a three part Bleo called Shattered, which is a bit romantically angsty and focuses a lot on characterization and emotion. I also finished The Initiation (35 chapters…done!) so if you haven't checked out any of these I'd love it if you did. !
I am terribly sorry to both the people who have been waiting endlessly for this and to the people who have lost interest. I spent the last few years struggling with some personal issues, university applications and decision making, schoolwork, my job, etc. To those of you who are willing to continue reading, I thank you sincerely! To those of you who aren't, thanks for sticking around this far.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Mean Girls, The Grudge, etc. There's a slight twist on a sentence from Bride Wars, props if you catch it. I don't own it, either.
Hermione lay out on a blanket in the sun, her toes hanging slightly off the edge, tickled by blades of grass. Harry, Ron, Draco and Blaise darted around in the air, their clothing blurs of colour against the soft blue of the sky. The quartet got along most when on broomsticks and she enjoyed absorbing some of the sunlight, so she'd brought a book out with her. Sunglasses propped on the top of her head she leaned back with a sigh, a content smile dancing across her lips.
Their team had had a small meeting the previous day to discuss the ways they could try and help Hermione get over her fear of water and, while she knew the chances of them succeeding without any legitimate assistance was small, she felt optimistic about it. Draco had read a few books about late-in-life acquired phobias and they'd talked about how to work themselves up to large bodies of water, and isolating what the problem actually was.
Theodore dropped onto the ground beside her, lying straight down on the green grass. He nodded in her directly, dark hair falling over his forehead. Hermione smiled tentatively at him, trying to gage his mood. Of everyone in the house she felt most uneasy around Theodore and his fluctuating moods. Turning back to look at their housemates she slipped her sunglasses over her eyes, squinting even with their protection against the blazing sun.
Theodore snorted and, shaking his head, began to liberally apply sunscreen to himself.
"Hmm?" She glanced over at him and propped herself up onto her elbows.
"It's really no wonder people buy into all this bullocks about you two being in love," Theodore said, pushing back his hair to cover his forehead. "The way you two get on."
She shook her head, debating whether or not to feign ignorance. "I think people see what they want to see and spend way too much time worrying about the lives of people they don't even know. It's silly, really."
"No, what's silly is all your fighting." He quirked a smirk in her direction that she was fairly certain was friendly.
"You and Blaise argue all the time, but you're still best friends." Hermione pointed out, closing her eyes.
"So do you and Weasley." Theodore countered, cursing when a particularly big dollop of liquid missed his arm and instead hit the grass.
"Not really." She shook her head and, after he snorted, added, "We do quarrel a bit, but its harmless. I don't think I've ever seen people fight as dirtily as you and Blaise and stay friends through it all."
"We do not." He scoffed and opened the book he'd brought along with him and pulled out some parchment. "Besides, it's not like you can even judge relationships based on actions."
"Why not?"
Theodore shot her a mildly annoyed and disbelieving look. "Actions rarely have anything to do with actual emotions, if you think about it." He rolled his eyes, as if it was all incredibly obvious. "It's all about what people want other people to see. Merlin, what do Gryffindors learn in school?"
"Bravery and trust in humankind?" She suggested and Theodore looked so disgusted she wasn't surprised he didn't say anything about it.
"Do you have a quill? I have to write a letter." He held out his hand expectantly and she gave him a pen instead, which he seemed to figure out quickly enough and set about writing.
It wasn't for a while that he finished and when he did he issued a loud sigh, folding up the parchment. "Finally. I hate writing letters. Such tedious work." He leaned back, staring up at their friends for a moment in silence. "When Blaise flies he does a lot of frilly loops, and the like. He's so bent it's a bloody miracle he can walk straight."
"Ron flails his arms," Hermione said without looking up. "And Harry squints."
"What for, he's got glasses hasn't he?" Theodore idly ran his hand through the grass, thin fingers tracing over the green blades. "You know, one time in our second year Draco tried out glasses. He told us all he thought his eyesight was going, but we knew it was because he wanted to be like Potter."
"Really? What happened?" Marking the page with her finger she closed the book and watched him with interest, trying to recall if she'd ever seen Draco wearing glasses in their second year.
"He borrowed them off this kid who was blind as a fucking bat, so he kept walking into things and never made it from the Common Room." Theodore sniggered, his eyes following the progress of Blaise's broom in the air. "What a wanker."
Hermione's phone buzzed and she frowned, feeling around for it on the blanket. Lifting it to her ear, she heard a robotic sort of voice.
'House Guests, please meet Sheila and James in the kitchen immediately for your next challenge.'
Theodore nodded briskly and took out his wand with his left hand. While he waved it and threw red sparks in the air, drawing the attention of the four flying boys, Hermione noticed something looping around his hand and leaned forward with interest. "What's that?"
He looked down and shrugged. "A tattoo." Reaching out without hesitation she took his hand and stared. Two thorny stems wrapped themselves around his hand, occasionally twisting with what could only be the influence of magic. On the palm of his hand, halfway between his thumb and forefinger was a single rose. The entire design was in black, which most likely explained why she'd never seen it before.
"It's beautiful." She murmured, fascinated. "I never noticed it before!"
Theodore shrugged and awkwardly tugged his hand out of her grasp. "Yeah, well. I got in last summer. I don't try to flaunt it, which some people like to do."
"What's wrong?" Blaise landed beside them, reaching out for Theodore's hand with concern.
"We're being called in," Theodore said slowly, frowning while Blaise flipped his hand over. "Why are you holding my hand? We've been through this, Blaise. I just don't feel that way about you."
Blaise rolled his eyes and dropped his hand, muttering something that sounded like "in your dreams."
"Granger was looking at it," Draco answered, shouldering his broom. "We thought maybe you'd chopped it off or something."
"Er, no." She said, looking around at them all. Ron was watching Blaise with interest and Harry was fiddling with the snitch in his hands, which the show had happily presented him with. "We have to meet in the kitchen."
Hermione gathered up her belongings and looked at Theodore as the group started back to the house. "Do you have my pen?"
"Oh, right." The Slytherin pulled it out of his pocket, in the process also tugging out a little bag and sending it shooting over the ground. Hermione watched in genuine astonishment as Theodore literally threw himself to the ground after it, shielding it from view with his body. Ignoring the looks of surprise and confusion he was receiving the male merely stuffed both hands into his pockets and carried on walking ahead of them, the pen forgotten.
"That was weird." Ron commented idly, staring at their companion's back as his hurried stride took him farther ahead.
"Yeah, it was." Blaise muttered under his breath, glaring fiercely. "Really weird."
"In three days, each of you will cook four different dishes—a dessert, main course, appetizer and side, each for a different member of your own team. You'll draw the names from a hat, and each of you will be provided with one of these cookbooks," James held up a large book entitled Recipes for the Culinary Handicapped and showed it to them all.
They'd all gathered around the kitchen table, which had eight small boxes with holes in the top resting on it. A stack of the cookbooks sat beside Sheila, the light reflecting off the glossy cover of the one on top. Reactions to the challenge were mixed. Ron and Blaise looked dismayed, Pansy and Draco had the expressions of people who'd just been told their NEWTs were tomorrow , Theodore didn't seem to be paying attention and Harry looked a bit pleased.
"Inside each book there are more than enough recipes for you all to find one. You have to pick the recipe you feel that the person you're cooking for will like the most." Sheila said with a beam, "And they will score each dish out of 10 on taste and preference. There will be one winner on each team, and the two will spend a day off camera in a hotel a few hours away from here."
A wave of interest rolled through the teenagers gathered there, all of whom were eager for the chance to get away from the cameras for a day. "We'll draw names in just a moment. You cannot reveal the name of the person you picked or that dish will be considered an automatic forfeit. Your recipes need to be selected by 10:00 tomorrow morning."
"Also, we'll be taking you to a grocery store the morning of the challenge so you can all pick up your ingredients. Any questions?" James asked pleasantly, and then waved his wand. The names of each course appeared on the boxes before him and he gestured at Hermione. "Hermione, why don't you pick first for your team?"
She moved forward to the appetizer box, tucking her hair behind her left ear, and reached into it, closing her fingers around a small piece of paper. Theodore. Moving down the table, she picked Blaise for the main course, Blaise for the side dish, and Draco for the dessert. Satisfied with her choices she crunched them up in her hand and accepted the book Sheila passed her. One by one the Bloody Fuckers selected names and the Pansy Pickers followed, selecting from a different set of boxes.
Harry frowned when he selected one of his papers and brought it to James, who appeared quite delighted. Ignoring the irritated look Sheila shot in his direction he launched into an explanation.
"Ah, yes! The guest! Because your team doesn't have even numbers we've had to bring someone else into the challenge to stand in as a substitute. You will all be paired off so you have a companion while you eat."
"Is that it?" Pansy asked, already flipping through the pages of the book.
"Yup. Happy planning!" The two gave a jaunty wave and vanished the boxes, before James took his wife's hand and left, humming 'Can You Feel the Love Tonight.'
"Nobody look at my papers!" Theodore said loudly and Hermione jumped in surprise. "Excuse me!" Glaring suspiciously he clutched his book to his chest and left the room, barrelling down the hallway.
"Ron, aren't you going to be late for your date?" Harry asked, checking his watch.
"Weasley has a date?" Draco looked disgusted while Ron swore, hurrying through the door opposite them with little more than an offhanded wave.
"With that muggle girl," Pansy said and smiled at them as she and Harry pulled away from the group in the direction of their part of the house. "We'll see you later."
"Oh, Harry, Pansy!" Hermione called out as Blaise and Draco began to walk into the living room. "I think we're going to watch a film tonight, you should join us."
"A film?" Blaise's voice asked as he and Draco left the room, the door swinging shut and blocking out Draco's response.
Harry shrugged, "As long as it's not one of those teen romances."
"Probably not with this many boys in the house." Hermione said, shaking her head. "We'll have to vote or something."
"Okay, as long as it's not something scary!" Pansy beamed and waltzed out the door, humming something under her breath that Hermione couldn't quite make out.
"The Grudge it is!" Blaise announced, fumbling with the case in front of him and peering interestedly at the disk inside.
"I can't believe you all voted for it!" Hermione shot a betrayed look at her teammates, who grinned back at her. "Look at the cover! Look at that girl's face! And the hair!"
"That's what Draco looks like when he wakes up," Theodore rolled his eyes. "You get used to it after awhile."
"So, it's not that scary, is it?" Pansy asked, twisting a strand of hair around her fingers as she eyed the cover photo.
"Er, well, apparently not." Harry coughed awkwardly, "I mean, according to my cousin it's not scary at all."
Ron stood up and mumbled something nearly incoherent about drinks, heading to the kitchen. Hermione jumped to her feet and followed him, rifling around in the glossy cupboards for movie friendly snacks. As she was pulling the popcorn from the microwave and dumped it into bowls she'd set on the counter, she turned to Ron. "How was your date?"
His ears a bit red Ron shrugged, "Went well, I think."
"Not going to give me any details?" She asked him with a smile, lifting the bowls. "That's fine, that's fine. I'll just ask Andrea about it later."
"Why? Has she said anything?" Ron's worried voice followed her out of the kitchen and she laughingly assured him of the fact that no, Andrea hadn't revealed any secret details to her.
Theodore accepted one of the bowls from her and took Blaise's arm, tugging him onto the couch closest to them. Ron sat next to Pansy, who was holding a pillow to her chest protectively. Harry and Draco were sitting on opposite sides of the three person couch and Hermione sat between them, popcorn balanced on her lap.
She'd spent the whole afternoon pouring through her cookbook to find her choices for the dishes she was cooking. She made a list for each person and dish and figured out which required the least amount of time but she also thought the person would like. Then she'd drawn up a chart and colour coded it.
In the end she'd decided that for Theodore's appetizer she would make zucchini cheese garlic appetizer, as the picture was mouth watering and she wasn't quite positive what he liked to eat, other than perhaps chocolate. She'd drawn Blaise for main course and side, so she'd chosen spicy chipotle lasagne and honey ginger carrots, as she knew he liked spicy things. For Draco's desert she'd picked a meringue cake lathered with whipped cream and berries.
It was going to take awhile to get it all ready but she figured she could make the meringue in the morning and let it chill, and then the lasagne and the other two dishes wouldn't take very long. The biggest problem would be making it right.
As the credits rolled onto the screen Theodore devoured popcorn, his chewing the only noise in the room. There seemed to be a tension rolling through them. Ron said rigid while Pansy barely moved an inch, arms crossed over her chest. Hermione could feel the heat from Draco's body to her left while Harry barely blinked to her right. The only people who seemed even slightly relaxed were Theodore, who animatedly gasped during the opening scene and muttered "don't go up there don't go up there," and Blaise, who sat cross legged beside him.
It wasn't for at least twenty minutes before Draco relaxed beside her. Pansy had started keeping her hands over her eyes, peering through them warily while Ron simply squinted so hard he could have had his eyes closed anyway. As the movie progressed Theodore had taken to watching with fascination and saying things like "it's in the building! On the camera! You can run but you can't hide!" and hiding his face in Blaise's neck.
"I'm never using blankets again!" Hermione exclaimed, horrified and turned from the screen just as the grudge's face appeared on the screen. "I'm never sleeping! Or answering the door!"
By the time they got to the end, where the murder of the wife and son was acted out, Hermione had covered her face permanently, separating her fingers on one hand so she could peer through and get the gist of what happened.
"Holy fuck," Theodore exclaimed as the twisted body of the grudge slid down the stairs, and he turned his head into Blaise, who was watching the movie with interest and didn't seem bothered by it. Ron muttered something under his breath that made Pansy laugh, and Harry grimaced as the house burned down.
As the credits began to roll they sat in silence, until Hermione stood up and turned the television off. "I will never trust your judgment of what is and isn't scary again." Pansy concluded, and a flurry of action followed her words as everyone stood up and stretched.
Hermione yawned into her elbow, blinking drowsily. "I think I'm heading to bed."
"I don't think I can sleep after that," Pansy muttered, looking over her shoulder as if she expected the grudge to be behind her.
"Don't worry, Pansy, I'm sure Weasley will protect you," Theodore said with a sly grin and waggled his eyebrows at her. Pansy rolled her eyes, but accepted his proffered hug anyway.
"Just like I will protect Theo," Blaise announced and threw an arm around Theodore and Pansy's shoulders.
"I don't trust you to protect me," Theodore said with a straight face. "I'd prefer if Draco did it."
"I can't, I'll be too busy saving Granger." Draco replied as he gathered the bowls up.
"No, I'll be saving you while you cower in fear." Hermione shook her head, applying some chap stick.
"I think all that popcorn has made you delusional," Draco replied, gesturing vaguely at her head. "And probably made your hair grow, too. It's looking remarkably crazy today."
"That's because it's full of secrets." She said with a laugh, coughing when no one understood the reference. "Right. Well, goodnight everyone."
As she passed by Draco reached out and ran his hand from her shoulder to elbow softly, just the barest brush of fingertips. She smiled at him, ducking her head, which was an acceptable response. The silly part didn't come until later, when she spent twenty minutes lying awake, reliving the touch over and over.
Hermione woke early the next morning and she sat up slowly, blearily surveying her bedroom. The frame on one of her shelves was showing a picture from just after Theodore had arrived at the House and had his arms wrapped tightly around Draco and Blaise, while Hermione was visible in the corner looking somewhat deranged with joy.
She watched a few of the photo changes, smiling when the next one was of Harry and Ron laughing together. Seeing them so carefree was a luxury that she fully intended to enjoy, especially because she expected eliminations to begin in a week or two.
After handing in her planned recipes and receiving the go ahead she wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, staring at the rows of food. A small bang attracted her attention after at least a minute of mindless staring and she looked up in surprise as Theodore came in the door, mumbling about baking.
"You're baking today?" She asked in surprise, letting the weighted door swing shut and retying the cord on her pyjama shorts.
"What? What are you saying? What are you talking about?" His eyes widened and, after her mouth fell open slightly, his lips relaxed into a small smile. "Yes, baking. With flour, probably."
Hermione opened the fridge door, surveying its contents once more, before looking up at him. "Mind if I join you?"
"I'm not sure that's advisable," he said with a smirk and began to rifle around in a cupboard, pulling out a cookbook. "I know you don't like to feel inferior to people, and I'm afraid my kitchen prowess will be quite overwhelming."
"Really?" She asked, peering over his shoulder as he began to flip through the pages of one of the books. "So what are you making?"
"Mm, not sure. Perhaps a nice little flambé . I might whip that into shape, you know, if it's not too easy." He gestured at a decadent looking cheesecake topped with raspberries, before continuing in his perusal. "So, tell me," he peered at the page and then turned to look at her. "What exactly does 'boil' mean?"
She stared at him for a long moment. "When you put things in boiling water."
"Like in a bowl?" Theodore looked regretfully at where his wand protruded from his pocket. "I suppose I'd need to learn a strong heating charm, yeah?"
"Don't be daft, Theo." Blaise strode into the room, a book tucked under his arm. "You use a pot, and boil it on the stove. It's practically potions."
"I don't know how to cook," Theodore said back, a blank expression on his face. "That's what house elves are for."
Hermione made low noise in her throat. "Well, I think it's excellent that Blaise has taken it upon himself to learn to be independent from house elves, and to free them-"
"He only knows how to cook because he spent a summer trying to piss his mother off by doing everything she hates." Theodore said with a smirk, which turned into a grin when Blaise frowned at him..
Hoping to avoid hearing another argument she hurried on. "If you want I can show you how? I'm not fantastic at it, but I can try my best to help you out."
"I've heard that one before," Draco snickered as he breezed into the room, heading for the coffee and pouring himself some.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Malfoy, do you know how to cook?"
"Define 'cooking.'" He said, taking a sip with his eyes closed. "I can throw some vegetables in the pot, if that's what you mean. It can't be that hard. Muggles can do it."
"Granger's going to show us how to do it." Theodore told him, pretending not to notice the way Hermione's nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. "You should probably stay, if you have any wish to win the challenge."
"Fine. Then we can work on your water thing." Draco assented, opening the bread box and rifling his hand around inside it. "I'm sure it will be easy to pick up, at any rate."
It had been a matter of minutes before Theodore spilled something. Within an hour a variety of baking ingredients had been splattered over the walls and floor, a cacophony of flour, sugar, eggs and she thought she could make out tomatoes mixed in, as well. Two hours into their baking and cooking extravaganza Theodore's face was covered in white and every time he shook his head, which he did increasingly often purely from amusement, sugar and pepper fell from his hair. Blaise had taken to lounging on the counter, legs crossed, while the rest of his team stumbled around the ravaged kitchen as Hermione attempted to show the pair how to perform a variety of tasks based on previous experience and pure guesswork.
"You can use this button to chop up vegetables without turning them into a paste," she explained as she pointed to the food processor. "Or if you want them very fine, you'd press this one. Since we're making bruschetta, we'll do the pulse setting to chop, I suppose."
Theodore watched with fascination as the machine began to work. When Hermione moved to check the brownies in the oven he slipped closer, noticing with interest the speed button on the side. He glanced over his shoulder, but Draco had followed Hermione and only Blaise was watching him, amusement dripping from the smile curving his lips. Pressing a finger to his lips he hit the up arrow, grinning as the machine whirred harder. It was difficult to see from the sides so he lifted the lid, peering into the top.
"Theodore, STO-" Streams of red shot from the top of the food processor and into his open eyes. Cringing away he shut them, scrabbling for the stop button while simultaneously trying to end the burning that was gnawing away at his eyeballs.
"You prick!" Draco yelled as the liquid continued to spray everywhere, no doubt into his blond hair. "Turn it off! Turn it off!"
"I'm trying!" He shouted back, slipping on the floor and abandoning stopping the machine in favour of trying to prevent himself from falling. A hand snatched his arm, hauling him back to his proper balance, and the whirring noises in the background stopped.
"Thank god," Hermione sighed, her voice still across the kitchen. "Remember the conversation about the blender? You have to leave the lid on! Have to!"
"It's in his eyes," Blaise's voice came from beside him. "Come to the sink."
He stopped his stream of rather inventive curses and stumbled blindly after his friend, guided only by the hand on his arm. The tap cut on and a cloth of some kind started scrubbing at his eyes. "Kinda rough," he muttered, flinching back.
"Don't be a baby." Blaise replied in the tone he used that was often accompanied by eye rolling. The rubbing continued, but was considerably gentler. Draco and Hermione could be heard shuffling around the kitchen, trading the occasional insult and jab at each other's selection of friends. "Open your eyes."
Theodore let his eyes flutter open, squinting at first and then allowing them to open all the way. Blaise stared directly into his them, frowning. Theodore shifted and then blinked rapidly, turning away. "Well, that was a bit of a mistake!"
Hermione shot him a dirty look as she ran her fingers threw her hair, attempting to get out the remaining chunks of tomato. Theodore thought it a rather silly task, considering it was almost a paste anyway, and he told her so. Draco snickered.
"Here, Theodore. Why don't you make the frosting for the brownies. There are only a couple buttons, and I don't think you can mess it up." Hermione directed him to the counter and he reached out, flicking some red paste from her shoulder.
"I like that we're at a point in our relationship where you can say hurtful things, but I know that you say them with deep affection." He beamed at her and she shook her head in response, returning to the counter with a cloth.
"I think you need more sleep, Theodore. Sleep deprivation and cooking isn't really a good combination." She made a half-hearted attempt at cleaning up the mess, before tossing the cloth aside.
"And your eyes are so bloodshot I can see them from over here." Draco added, lazily stirring what Hermione had insisted would turn out looking like soup but looked more like green sludge.
"I don't...like sleeping." Theodore paused, thinking over what he'd said, and then busied himself measuring out icing sugar.
By the end of the day the males were considerably more optimistic about the upcoming challenge, and Hermione was exhausted. While all intelligent, the lack of practical muggle technology in their lives had left a severe gap in figuring out how to work the appliances, and in combination with the fact that they were all from wealthy pureblood families who had house elves to look after them, the closest experiences they had to baking and cooking was potions brewing.
The next morning the teams woke up at 5 AM to leave for the grocery stores by 5:30. Sheila and James thought it would be best if they went at an uncommon hour to avoid muggle interaction and lineups that would cut into the strict time restrictions that were in place. Hermione trooped into the kitchen, her list clutched in one hand and her bag hanging over her shoulder. Blaise and Theodore slumped on chairs, a blueberry muffin dangling in Theodore's fingertips. Draco stood next to the coffee maker, watching the drizzle of fresh coffee as it descended into the clear pot.
"Morning," she muttered, staring at the piles of containers and wrapped plates of food scattered throughout the room. Not only had they baked blueberry muffins, but also banana and zucchini. The chocolate and cream cheese frosting for the vanilla and carrot cupcakes was crushed against the clear wrapping covering the plates. Two pies, key lime and strawberry rhubarb, were still in their baking dishes and had just had dishtowels thrown over the top. What had been intended as triangular tea biscuits had ended up being rather unevenly shaped balls of what was likely too salty dough with random blobs of cheese spread unevenly throughout (no one had touched those yet).
Theodore merely groaned in response, his face pressed against the countertop. Blaise flicked his hand in her direction, and Draco glanced up and smiled at her. She made her way to the refrigerator and pushed aside the vinaigrettes they'd concocted and the varying shades of berry smoothies.
"Hey, guys," Ron stuck his head into their kitchen. "We're supposed to be leaving now, the cars are waiting."
Theodore groaned again without moving his face. Draco cast a forlorn look at the coffee and then considered the containers before him, deciding on the zucchini muffins, and reached his hand in. Ron's expression perked up. "Are those muffins?"
Theodore lifted his head. "My muffins."
"Do we have to go?" Blaise asked, staring at Hermione as if she had the power to make the decision.
"Yes, there are muffins. No, they're not all Theodore's. Yes, we have to go." Hermione held the container out to Ron, jerking her head towards the door. "Let's go, guys."
Ron took the container with a gleeful smile and disappeared out the door. Draco followed him slowly, grabbing Theodore's arm and dragging him along. Blaise sighed as he and Hermione made their way to the exit.
The car ride was short and Hermione made the most of it by going through her list and mentally categorizing which items would be in the same sections. They climbed out of the black cars when they reached the grocery store and were greeted by Sheila and James, who gave them their instructions again and then informed them that their time had begun.
Forty two minutes later the seven teenagers staggered out the doors, arms laden down with bags. Hermione was pretty sure the circulation in her left arm had been completely cut off by the handles of the three bags she had nestled in the crook of her elbow. Two more were pulling the fingers of her right hands in very painful positions and every few steps she had to hit her purse to keep it from twisting in her legs as she walked. Sheila and James beamed at them, despite the glares they got in return, and after all the groceries had been dumped in the back of the cars in isolated piles the group returned to the house.
"We'll have our people come and transport your purchases," James said dismissively as they climbed from the cars. "Because everything has to be done in isolation, we'll be taking you to a specifically designed site where you will each have full access to the kitchen for the entire day. You'll have to bring what you intend to wear for dinner, and something else you don't mind getting dirty."
Sheila winked at them. "You've got fifteen minutes to collect whatever you need, and then we'll be off."
"Really?" Pansy barked out as they hurried in through the door. "Why would a little advanced warning be so difficult?"
"It probably makes 'the viewers' happy, or something. Boosts the ratings," Ron said in a bitter voice, wrinkling his nose. Pansy's laughter was drowned out by the click as the door shut behind them.
Hermione tore through her closet until she found a dress and then scurried around to collect shoes and whatever else she would likely need. Hoping that the word "dirty" hadn't been some kind of attempt at a coy reference to actual dirt she brought along a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt.
She left her room, noticing that the writing on their doors had all turned similar shades of bright yellow before she ran through the hallway, hoping that she hadn't exceeded the time limit. Inside the car, Theodore and Blaise sat next to Theodore, a guitar case resting against the seat beside him, while Draco was opposite them.
"What do you think we need clothes we can get dirty for?" Draco was asking, glancing up briefly when she climbed in and sat next to him.
"I can think of a few things," Blaise smirked, an eyebrow raised. Theodore snorted, craning his neck to look outside the window.
"I'm sure you can. Are we leaving yet? Merlin this is taking forever."
"Oh, shut up, Theo. You're only annoyed because you misinterpreted the instructions and brought along your sparkly booty shorts."
"What the hell are booty shorts?" Theodore broke his gaze away from the window long enough to give Blaise a look of disgust, which was met with one of such incredulity it was enough to make Hermione laugh.
"How can you not know what booty shorts are?" Blaise exclaimed, his eyes wide. "What kind of life do you lead?"
Draco rolled his eyes at Hermione, a smile twisting his lips up, as Theodore snapped something involving the lack of importance anything to do with booty had in his life. "I think Blaise is just confused because that's the most important thing to him."
"Hey! That was uncalled for!"
"They made a montage devoted to your sexual exploits," Hermione pointed out as the car began to move. "And it only included what happened on the show."
"I was under extreme stress," Blaise sniffed, "Different people have different methods of coping with duress. Mine is just…"
"Carnal?" Theodore suggested with a sly grin. "I think we've all noticed."
"This is ridiculous. I'm going to drown my sorrows-"
"In sex?"
"Shut up, Theo. Jesus, no, in music." Blaise paused, his eyes focussing on a point near the ceiling of the car. "Maybe I'll write a song about this car ride. It'll go something like this: unrequited sexual tension on a morning in a car, wishing for some reason on the last remaining star, hoping it will end so I can finally go to sleep, wishing I could kick my friends from this fucking jeep."
There was a brief moment of silence. "Wow. That was touching. Really, really touching. I'm sure your record company would be so proud of that." Theodore laughed loudly, tossing his head to the side so his hair wouldn't fall into his eyes. "Although calling out the sexual tension between us wasn't so cool. I'm embarrassed now."
"Everyone already knew. The way you lust after my body is a lot more obvious than you think." Blaise said with a look of mock seriousness on his face, before a smile broke out and he threw his head back with a laugh.
Hermione laughed, too, but she couldn't help but feel that the looks she and Draco were receiving from Theodore and Blaise were rather telling. She glanced down at the space between their bodies, a comfortable distance breached only by their hands, while rested close enough that with a bit of finger extension on both their parts they could make contact. Conscious of their teammates' scrutiny she thought it might be wise to tactfully withdraw her fingers slightly, but the thought of doing so made her stomach twist in a strange way, so instead she relaxed her arm and sat back against the seat.
If their hands brushed ever so slightly it wasn't even that important.
Blaise had anticipated that the ride to their destination might be long (Hermione and Draco both suspected that they were driving around in circles simply because Sheila and James were hoping for some kind of inner car drama) so he'd prepared by bringing a multitude of occupations. After he'd finished bickering with Theodore he'd pulled out his guitar and started playing Stop and Stare, until Hermione and Draco had managed to convince him that if he didn't stop they would cut his guitar in half, and he'd kept them amused by playing different songs and having them guess what they were called. When they got bored with that, which happened rather quickly when none of them could guess the songs, he'd pulled out his camera and started taking photographs of whatever caught his interest. More often than not his interest was caught by the people in the car with him, so they spent a considerable amount of time covering their faces and threatening to cut his camera in half. Hermione had explained the concept of arm wrestling to them, but the males quickly shot down that idea after she beat Blaise in the demonstration.
By the time they pulled into the parking lot of what appeared to be a rather old, crumbly warehouse, they were all eager to get out of the stiflingly small vehicle. Theodore was bouncing his legs up and down, running his hand through his hair repeatedly.
Sheila and James led them into the warehouse, which turned out to be a lot bigger on the inside than the outside seemed to indicate. A series of doors ran along two sides of a wide hallway with a maroon tiling on it, the names of each of the members of the teams written on the doors to the left.
"Ahem, so we have a bit of a challenge for you before you start your preparations." Sheila smiled and gripped her husband's hand, as if searching for some kind of anchor to prevent her from floating away in all her excitement. "We're going to pair you off, and each pair will get buckets of Martha's Magnificent Magic Paint. If you tap the lids of each bucket twice with your wands, the paint inside will become the colour you wish it to be."
"However, once you do so you cannot change the colour inside. So decide carefully." James chuckled to himself. "Each pair will be in charge of one room, which you must decide on a colour design and then paint however little or much you desire. Then, Sheila and I will pick the winning room, and you'll get a prize."
"What is it?" Pansy asked, her head tilted to the side as she considered their words.
"A surprise!" Sheila exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Now, here we are. Partners are…Draco and Harry, Theodore and Ron, Pansy and Hermione, Blaise and…our guest! Come on out, guest!"
Seamus Finnegan walked into the room, a smile on his freckled face. His sandy blonde hair had grown longer than Hermione had ever seen it, just brushing over his eyebrows, and he was wearing a pair of jeans and navy turtleneck. Harry and Ron let out small roars and hugged him, while Hermione waved happily but remained with her group.
"Welcome, Seamus! So pleased you could make it out," Sheila smiled and shook his hand. "Everyone pleased stand with your partner and we'll get started!"
Each team was shown into a room that was entirely white. The lack of colour was almost blinding at first and Hermione had to squint to make out the white dining table and two chairs that rested in the very centre. Against one wall was a white couch, and a fireplace was just opposite it. Several cans of paint sat just inside the door.
"Erm, so we need some kind of plan. Any ideas?" Pansy glanced at her as the door closed, her eyes nearly shut.
"Here, hold on." Hermione pulled out her wand and waved it quickly in two sharp movements. Immediately the light in the room seemed to dim such that the white became bearable and both girls opened their eyes.
"Nice spellwork," the blonde said with a smile.
"Thanks." Hermione paused, her eyes running over the room. "Maybe we should make one of the cans brown—to colour the table, and maybe the couch. Another colour for the floor, and one for the walls?"
"I was thinking something like that, too." Tapping absentmindedly at her chin, Pansy nodded. "We should try and pick colour Sheila and James like, because they're picking the winners."
"Oh, right. Well royal blue, I think. A rich red, or a purple. That sort of thing seems to be their usual robe colour."
The Slytherin was nodding in agreement, her eyes running over the walls. "Alright, let's get to work."
"How about-"
"If you're about to suggest red or gold, you can stop right now." Blaise didn't look over, but he could practically see the disappointment flicking across Seamus's face.
"Or-"
"The same goes for Irish green."
"We could do-"
"Don't start on anything plebeian, like orange or purple, either." Blaise surveyed the white room before him, considering the couch, table, chairs and fireplace.
"Black?" Seamus suggested weakly, his one eyebrow raised enough that it disappeared beneath his hair.
"I hope you aren't assuming I like black for any superficial reason," Blaise said and turned with narrowed eyes on the Gryffindor. "That's terribly racist, Finnegan."
Colour blossomed on his companion's face. "You're being a pretentious prat!"
A grin flicked across Blaise's face. "There's no need to be rude, Finnegan. I was just being friendly." Before Seamus could speak, though the indignation in his expression was explanation enough of his thought process, he continued. "How about a dark, dark blue? Like the sky almost at midnight?"
"We could do the floor, walls and the ceiling that colour," Seamus nodded after a moment's pause, the struggle over whether or not to let it go playing across his freckled face. "It would almost be like floating in the sky at night, that sort of effect."
Blaise nodded thoughtfully. "I like where this partnership is going."
Seamus frowned. "Exactly where do you think this partnership is going?"
The Slytherin laughed out loud, surprising Seamus. Reaching over, he patted the other male's cheek twice in a gesture that would be repeated many times in the months following by Seamus's friends. "Nothing like that, Finnegan. I don't do freckles."
"Rainbow?" Ron grimaced, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed. "I don't think rainbow can really be classified as a colour."
"Shall we test that theory out, Weasley? Witness the power of my imagination." Theodore pulled out his wand and strode to the four buckets. Tapping his wand twice on the top of one he closed his eyes and, though completely unnecessary, held his breath.
Ron watched, unimpressed. "You'll have to open the can to check. It's not just going to pop out, you know."
"I'm aware, thanks. I don't know how Granger stands you and your simpleton comments." Theodore muttered, quiet enough that Ron figured he wasn't supposed to hear, but loud enough that he did anyway.
"I don't know how she stands you and your bizarre mood swings," Ron fired, peering into the bucket as Theodore pried off the lid. "Oh my Merlin."
"Actually, Granger and I have a relationship deeply rooted in a deep rooted affection that some have described as deeply sexual," Theodore said with a snicker and looked with delight into the bucket as a rainbow of shades flickered across the paint's surface. "Perfect."
"This is…" Ron trailed off, lips pulled back in a horrified grimace.
"Splendid? Yes, I agree! Do you think they count invisible as a colour, too?"
After a minute of blatantly staring at Theodore, Ron shook his head. "You're a child."
Theo frowned. "No to invisible, then."
"What are you doing?" Harry asked with his arms folded over his chest, wand dangling in his right hand, as Draco began to tap the first paint bucket.
"Take a wild guess, Potter." Draco bit out, pulling the top off the first to reveal an emerald green.
"Oh, no. We are not decorating this room in Slytherin colours."
"Oh, really? What colours will we be using?" The blond moved to the second bucket and Harry darted forward, hurriedly tapping the third and fourth twice on the top. "Potter! You idiot, what did you do?"
"If there are Slytherin colours," Harry pulled back the tops of the cans, "there'll be Gryffindor colours too."
"No." Draco began to shake his head, standing up straight. "I refuse to make this room into some kind of strange, abstract depiction of the rivalries between Gryffindor and Slytherin."
"Good," Harry snapped, lifting up one of the buckets in his hands. "Because if that was the case it would just be a flew blobs of green and silver being dominated by red anyway, and that would just be pitiful. It's one thing to always lose as a House and another to see a visual representation of it."
"Just because your House is willing to use blatant favoritism in the rewarding of its students doesn't make Gryffindor any less of a cesspool of ridiculous bellowing of loyalty and love, Potter." Draco laughed, waving his wand so that some of the silver paint floated up from the bucket and rippled gently at its tip.
"Blatant favoritism is Snape's sole method of teaching Slytherins," Harry snarled, his grip on the bucket tightening. "I think you're confusing winning with bribery and deception. That's the only way you'll ever experience it, since obviously relying on Daddy's money just isn't good enough."
"You stupid sod," Draco reared back, his face flushing, and he slashed his wand through the air. Paint splashed all over Harry with enough force that his hair stood on end, silver dripping from the tips of strands.
"You-absolute-bastard!" Harry said through gritted teeth, swinging his arms back and throwing an excessive amount of paint straight over Draco's head. As the Malfoy stumbled back he reached for the gold and moved forward, throwing more in his direction.
"Actually my birth was entirely legitimate," Draco retorted, waving his wand again and shooting green pant all over Harry's side. "Yours on the other hand, was questionable at best."
Harry's nostrils flared as he threw more paint, largely missing Draco and managing to get about half the sofa. "You imbecile!" Draco yelled, "you ruined it! This paint can't be removed by magic, you know!"
"Oh, really?" Harry tossed the bucket of recently refilled red paint directly over top of Draco's hair. "So your hair will be red forever?"
Draco plunged ahead, waving his wand quickly enough to keep a constant stream of paint shooting at Harry, who jumped to the side to avoid getting hit and rolled behind the table. "If you were smart enough to actually read anything you would already know it comes off the human body with soap and water."
"You mean that isn't some kind of ugly wig you picked up, Malfoy? That's your real hair?" Harry's laughter was rewarded by a mouthful of silver paint, which tasted vaguely of rotten spinach.
"You prick!" Draco let out a feral yell and the two forgot entirely about the challenge.
When Hermione and Pansy were finally informed that half an hour had passed they trooped back into the main hallway, small splatters of paint dotting up their legs and a smudge or two on their faces. Hermione stopped short when she took in Harry and Draco, drenched from head to two in a myriad of green, silver, gold and red paints, standing sulkily side by side. Theodore was laughing and flicking at Draco's hair, which had evidently dried in awkward spikes all over his head.
"What did you do?" She asked as they drew nearer.
"It was, er, our method." Harry muttered, meeting her eyes briefly before glancing over at Draco and snickering despite himself.
"Yes. Quite effective." Draco cleared his throat, trying to wipe red paint off his cheekbone with hand already covered with silver and gold. Hermione laughed at his futile attempts and brushed his hand aside, replacing it with her thumb. She rubbed at it, managing to get about half of it off and smearing the rest into his skin.
"Oops," she chuckled under her breath, "Sorry about that."
"It's fine." He said, tugging his face from her grip after a moment of hesitation. "It's…fine."
Sensing a shift in his mood she took a step back, her hand falling to her side. "Okay." Draco met her eyes, an unreadable expression flicking across his face and he opened his mouth to say something and her heart started to beat faster but she wasn't sure why and-
"It's time to go and take a look around the rooms!" Sheila called out and Draco averted his eyes quickly. Disappointed for reasons she couldn't even begin to figure out, Hermione followed the rest of her house mates into the first room.
Seamus and Blaise had painted the walls, ceiling and floor completely midnight blue like the night sky. The fireplace was a deep, rusty orange with swirls wrapping around it, streams twisting off like fire at the tip. The table and chairs were all an almost glowing yellow that, set against the blue of the room, Hermione was sure was supposed to look like stars. The couch was a greyish blue, deeper in shades and twisted to create texture against the fabric.
"Mhmm, very nice, very nice." James walked around appraisingly, running his hand over the couch. "I quite like this. Quite like it indeed."
Sheila seemed less impressed and they moved on to the next room, painted by Hermione and Pansy. The walls were a deep purple, set against a white ceiling and the rich colour of a deep hardwood on the floor. The fireplace was crimson, while the couch, table and chairs were a rich brown that Hermione associated with the leather love seat in her parents' living room.
"Ooh, now this is just lovely," Sheila beamed, looking to James for an enthusiasm that he obviously did not share. "Well, I love it, girls. On to the next one!"
Ron seemed rather embarrassed by the silence that immediately followed the group's entrance to the room he and Theodore had painted. The ceiling was a cacophony of colours, swirling together and sliding against one another like snakes. The walls were solid black with swirling curlicues of glittery blue and the floor they stood on didn't even appear to have a colour, merely giving the impression of standing on a plateau of sparkles. The table, fireplace and couch were all matching colours of lavender, a shocking contrast to the lack of order all around them.
"Erm…nice." Sheila said and they made a hasty retreat.
As soon as they walked into Draco and Harry's room and Sheila and James both sucked in gasps, smiles stretching their faces, Hermione was pretty sure they were the winners. Covering nearly every surface in the room was evidence of why they were both covered in paint. Splatters of gold, silver, green and red were splashed everywhere, even the ceiling, in some places mixing just enough to create swirls, in others isolated with speckles of one colour overlapping the others.
"This is amazing!" James said excitedly, letting his fingers rest over a point where red formed a sort of ring around a spot of silver. "This is like some kind of metaphor to the kind of lives you lead together! The sharpness of the silver and green, the boldness of the gold and red! It's fabulous!"
Draco was staring at James with his eyebrows raised so high the skin around them turned paler than usual. Harry squinted at him, as if trying to decide if James was joking or not.
"Give us one moment to confer!" Sheila called out and she pulled James into the corner, gesticulating wildly.
"I told you they would think it's metaphorical," Draco hissed to Harry with the special glare he reserved just for him.
"Who cares, Malfoy? It's like an abstract painting; people will see what they want to." Harry shot back, his jaw set in a tight line.
"What do you think it looks like?" Draco turned imploringly to Hermione, as if her opinion really mattered to him. Which, she realized with a warm glow, it probably did. They'd had their awkward friendship talk, so of course friends ask other friends questions that matter to them.
"I think it looks like you two got into a pretty big argument," she replied, which seemed to be the right answer because a small smile turned Draco's lips.
"Alright, everyone! We've discussed the stylings of each room in great detail and have decided that this room, by Draco and Harry, perfectly embodies the kind of relationship turmoil that exists between the two, and the artistry…it must have taken a lot of work to get the paint splatters to look so good, and to have such vivid depictions of the interactions of Slytherins and Gryffindors! Well done, boys!" James grinned happily, waving them forward.
"The prize for this particular challenge," Sheila said as she rubbed her hands together, "is 50 galleons each and two hours of unfilmed alone time!"
Neither Draco or Harry looked particularly pleased with the last bit and each accepted the bags of galleons somewhat sulkily. Harry tried to push the bag into the pocket of his jeans and was wholly unsuccessful in achieving anything other than giving off the impression that he had some kind of extra appendage.
"Well, that was quite fun!" James nodded, rocking on the balls of his feet. "Your supplies should now be in your kitchens, with your cookbooks. The clothing you brought should be in the closet just inside the door to avoid getting dirty amid your preparations. You have until 5:45 tonight to have every part of your meal plated in the kitchen and to be completely dressed for dinner."
"There will be no magic to complete this challenge," Sheila said and frowned when Ron groaned, "except for heat preservation charms, or that sort. There's a list on the kitchen counter of those that will be permitted. You have the whole day to get everything ready, starting now. Good luck!"
Hermione glanced down at her watch. It was 10:14, so she had plenty of time to get everything organized perfectly. She smiled at her friends and disappeared through the door that had her name on it.
The kitchen itself was quite impressive, with a variety of pots and pans hanging by their handles against one wall, spoons, spatulas and any kind of overlarge utensil she could think of against another wall. The counter was large and looked to be made of marble. A silver refrigerator was beside four ovens and two microwaves. A large cutting board was already resting on the counter beside the sink. Opening all the drawers brought bowls and dishes into her line of sight.
Hermione began by once more reading through her chosen recipes and setting out to finish the cake for Draco first. Technically the meringues were supposed to be able to dry overnight, but she hoped that if she got them finished early enough in the day, by the evening she would have time to prepare it and they would be dry enough.
She worked steadily through the instructions, lining the cooking sheet with parchment paper in preparation for the meringues, and beating together egg whites and cream of tartar. Her thoughts wandered to her teammates and she hoped Theodore and Blaise were doing alright. Draco had seemed to pick up on cooking quite quickly and was rational enough to think through things before he actually plunged into them, whereas Theodore seemed more inclined to make random guesses and follow his every whim. Blaise, on the other hand, wanted to add embellishments to recipes but lacked the experience necessary to make them actually successful.
What exactly does marshmallow cream look like? Hermione squinted into the bowl as if it would provide her the answers she was looking for. For good measure she beat the mixture 30 seconds more.
Flick water onto parchment paper. She ran her fingers under the tap and returned to the stove top, tentatively flicking her fingers over the sheet until droplets of water fell onto the parchment paper. As she spooned the meringue mixture onto the paper and then smoothed it over with a spatula she absentmindedly looked around the kitchen for some source of radio or music player. Coming up empty she slipped the meringues into the oven and dug through her bag until she found her iPod and slipped the headphones into her ears.
Humming under her breath she flipped through her book until she found the World's Best Lasagna Recipe for Blaise. It would take two and a half hours to cook, but she'd read online while searching for lasagna making tips that by leaving the lasagna in the fridge for a few hours the flavours would blend better.
She began by browning the meat in the skillet with the garlic and onions, sifting through the mixture to make sure it was evenly cooked, and then added in the herbs, tomato paste and crushed tomatoes. After stirring it together she set the timer on the oven for an hour and a half, before stepping back with a small sigh. She couldn't start the baked vegetables for Blaise's side dish yet, because she wanted to aim for them to be ready about ten minutes before they were to serve dinner.
A few hours later all her dishes were in progress. In her mind her hair was falling gracefully around her shoulders, there was a delicate flush on her cheeks, and she was gracefully darting around the kitchen, finishing her dishes with elegance and ample time left on the clock. When she chanced to glance at herself at about 4:30 it was to see that her hair had expanded to massive proportions and was swaying around her crimson face and that her movements were moderately panicked as she counted down the time on the clock. Opening the oven door and barely managing to sidestep the gust of hot air that flooded her face she pulled out the lasagna, looking at it from underneath with the hope that it would reveal its current state of completion to her that way.
When she'd organized her food on the counter, double and triple checked their states of completion, she set the proper preservation spells. Without hesitating she snatched her duffle bag from the floor and hurried from the room.
The water from her shower washed away the tension from cooking in a hot kitchen and she almost couldn't convince herself to get back out. Dressing quickly in the dress and flats she'd brought along she ran some styling cream through her hair, pinned it back on one side, and hurried back to her kitchen.
Inside she pulled out the plates provided for her from the show and plated the food. She set about trying to coerce it into looking nicely arranged, which was wholly unsuccessful, and then set about her proper preservation charms until they were served. Checking her reflection in the mirror she rolled her shoulders, coughed once, and then headed out to the waiting area.
When everyone gathered together, with one minute to spare, Sheila and James paired everyone off. Their special guest for the evening turned out to be Ginny, and she appeared smiling through one of the doors. In a matter of seconds she and Harry were whisked away to their private dinner, followed by Ron and Pansy, Theodore and Blaise and Hermione and Draco. Inside their rooms they were seated by men who looked suspiciously like the guards who'd helped bring them onto the show.
"Do you think they actually made these pairings by random draw?" Hermione asked as she took a sip of water, looking up as their server brought in their appetizers.
"Not at all," Draco rolled his eyes, "I have the feeling that we'll always be paired up for everything. Just so they can feed into the delusions of their viewers, and such."
"Probably," She rolled her eyes with what sounded like a terribly awkward and nervous laugh, at least to her ears. "I'm surprised they didn't separate Blaise and Theodore, though."
Draco shrugged, examining the shrimp on his plate with interest. "They've both been kind of stressed out, lately. They'll probably be fine tonight, though. They're friends for a reason"
Hermione read the card label that came with her food, not entirely sure what teriyaki puffs entailed, and cut one in half, popping it into her mouth. Frowning she chewed, not quite sure what it tasted like, but came to the conclusion after much deliberation that she liked it.
"This is actually really good," Draco said, eating another shrimp, "Do you like shrimp? Would you like to try?"
"Erm, sure," she reached out and tried to accept the extended piece by the end, but wasn't quite sure how to go about doing so without dropping it.
Smirking, Draco stood up and leaned over, "Here."
Trying to repress a smile when she realized what he was doing she opened her mouth, accepting the shrimp. Her lips just barely grazed the tip of his finger and she pulled back quickly, a flush working itself onto her cheeks.
They both sat back down and she nodded, looking up from under her eyelashes. "It was good."
He nodded, taking a drink.
The rest of dinner went on without incident and she ended up eating a really well-crafted garlic pepper steak with some kind of feta-cheese-mashed-potato-herb-y creation on the side. Dessert was a delightful concoction of tangy lemon squares, with icing sugar dusted on the top that was potentially her favourite part of the meal. Draco seemed pleased with the meringue cake and it was with light moods that they rejoined their friends, all of whom seemed well fed and in good spirits.
"Here are your scoring sheets," Sheila went around to each of them and handed them a sheet of paper and a pen. "Please fill them out and we will calculate the winner from each team. We'll let you know tomorrow."
Hermione went through her sheet, yawning as she sought to remember her exact reaction to everything. After they'd handed in their scoring sheets they were given the freedom to discuss who'd made the food for each other. In the car ride back to the house Hermione found out that Blaise had made her appetizer, Theodore her side, and Draco both her main dish and dessert.
The team collapsed on the couches when they returned, not even bothering to take off their shoes, and Hermione lay on her back, legs hanging over the armrest, staring at the ceiling as Blaise and Theodore talked about the ways the show and Blaise's recording company were accommodating each other and when he was due to start recording. Draco added his own two knuts every once in a while and, before long, she'd fallen asleep.
Author's Note (2012): I've literally just come to the moderately painful conclusion now that making up a chart with what dish every single character was making for every other character, as well as saving the instructions and figuring out how much time it would take, was utterly unnecessary. Talk about excessive preperation.
In other news, I'm finishing my first year as a university student and I absolutely adore it. Studying all things I love, enjoying residence, meeting new people, etc. I hope you've all been well! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed in the past little while, and particularily Sophie, who has sent me a few messages that were borderline threatening, but in all the pleasant ways. It was a nice reminder to keep going! Oh, and to those of you who have reviewed in the last few months and I didn't reply-I felt like I would be kind of a tool for answering them now, so I promise to resume my good reviewing-responding behaviour with this chapter, and sorry for any hard feelings.
ALSO—I'd like to know who you guys want voted off the show FIRST and SECOND. I'll make a poll regarding this on my profile, but for those who don't want to travel that far, in a review would be appreciated.
Review, si vous plait! : )