Note! If you like this story, please check out "Chess" by TwoTrees. It's my joint account with Genetic Island, and we would really appreciate your reviews there. Pretty please with a cherry on top. :) Okay, enough of shameless advertising now, go and read the chapter. :D

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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. But I do have some cookies. ;)

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The Founding of Pigwarts II – Cooking Chaos

Chapter 8: Sweet Revenge, Literally

"If you were not a girl, and I didn't love Harry, I would marry you," Ginny announced.

Daphne gave her a calculating look.

"Hmm, I don't know. You're not my type. Too… skinny."

Ginny humphed.

"Who would you rather have then, Millicent?"

"I think I'd take Luna."

"You're crazy," Ginny informed her friend.

"I know! Isn't it wonderful!"

The redhead had to agree with that.

"Shush! The show begins," she said, turning towards the faintly bluish hole in the wall. They were sitting in another dungeon, very similar to the first one, but instead of a Draco Malfoy chained to a wall, this room had a fireplace, soft red carpet, and two utterly comfortable golden armchairs with two utterly comfortable young women holding a large bowl of popcorn and a large cup of lemonade each.

(Hermione had introduced Ginny to the concept of Muggle cinema, and she thought it really suited their present situation.)

The transparent bluish hole in the wall was nothing more than a nifty spell that gave them clear view into the next room, which happened to be the one with a chained Draco and a devilishly grinning Hermione.

(The hole worked in only one way, though, so the solid stone wall looked like a solid stone wall from the other side of it. Because Ginny and Daphne had thought it might be a bit difficult for Draco and Hermione to look past a huge hole in the wall and two girls sitting in armchairs, eating popcorn, drinking lemonade, and watching them with curiosity.)

---

Draco was still staring, the reality way too unreal to be acceptable. And way too horrible, as well.

"Instructions," Hermione continued to read the letter. "Take a cookie from the plate (on that corner table)."

Moving back to the table, she discovered a whole place of chocolate cookies under a piece of cloth, and taking one resumed her previous place.

"Smell the cookie. Mmm, delicious. Say 'Mmm, delicious.' Mmm, delicious. Step closer to the Ferret and wave the cookie in front of his face. Be careful not to step too close – he does bite."

Hermione lowered the letter from her face, and stepped as close as she dared. (Which was a lot closer any person holding their life dear would step to a tiger – caged or otherwise.) Raising the hand with the cookie, she slowly moved it back and front before Draco's eyes, thanking Ginny and the tequila once again – had she been sober, it would have felt utterly ridiculous to do what she was currently doing. Now it felt like fun.

Draco, however, was sober, and did find it utterly ridiculous. At least the cookie. So what if it was a chocolate one and smelled like heaven – it was still just a cookie. But then there was this girl standing so close to him, with her own sweet fragrance and glowing skin and brilliant smile. And he'll be damned if he wasn't affected by that, and if the memories (or more like the scenes he had read) from one certain night months ago didn't come back to him.

"Eat the cookie," Hermione was consulting with the letter again. "Eat it slowly and make noises as if the man of your dreams (or just some random really cute guy) was presently kissing your neck (or any other part of your body; your choice really)."

Having finished the sentence, she wondered whether she should blush and run away before things could get even more out of hand, or stay here, follow the instructions, and later blame it all on alcohol. She had already done that last bit without being drunk at all, now she had had at least one glass of it, and even though she was not quite drunk yet, she wasn't quite sober either.

And the cookie did look delicious.

With a nonchalant shrug, she made her decision, and took a bite of the said cookie. All right, so perhaps it looked and smelled a bit better than it tasted, but it was still good, and she hadn't eaten dinner yet. So she did exactly what the letter had said – chewed slowly and made a few moans in the process.

---

"When do you think she'll notice he's transfixed on her, and not on the cookie?" Daphne wondered.

"She should have realized it with the first cookie, but it became glaringly obvious by the third."

"Perhaps she is just playing with him?"

"Well, that she is definitely doing, my dear friend," Ginny sniggered.

"I think the right term here would be 'foreplay'," Daphne winked.

---

This was pure torture. It had never been this awful for Daphne because then she had been five years old and didn't have to worry about these things called hormones. And Draco had never waved the cookies in front of her nose, he had simply placed them out of her reach.

But this, this was different. This was pure torture. And he knew he had thought that already, but it was worth thinking twice. Damn! And he had thought that simply being chained to a dungeon wall was bad. Now, with the girl eating cookies before him (and moaning! Moaning! He wondered who she was thinking about while doing it, and decided to kick his ass should he ever find out) and him still being chained to a dungeon wall, this was billions of times worse.

He wasn't sure he would survive till the last cookie.

Hermione, the observant girl she was, happened to be quite oblivious to her effect on him this time. It was because of the cookies. They were rather good, and they seemed to be getting better and better. And they were with chocolate. And she really was hungry.

And this really was fun.

---

"I want one of those cookies, too," Ginny whined. Seeing Hermione eat them like they were the best things in the world had got her drooling for them, as well.

"No, you don't," Daphne said.

"Yes, I do," Ginny said stubbornly, then paused and thought for a moment. "What did you put into those cookies?"

"Chocolate," she smirked.

"And?"

"And just a teeny tiny drop of aphrodisiac," the girl admitted with a grin.

"Daphne!"

"What?"

"You drugged her! You weren't supposed to drug her. Now she has no control over her actions, the potion does it all for her!"

"Relax," Daphne calmed her friend. "It doesn't do anything of the like. It simply amplifies some of her feelings. Heightens her spirits. Just like alcohol."

"Oh, all right then," Ginny let herself be calmed down.

---

It was the last cookie. Hermione was a bit sad about that. The cookies had been really good, and they had made her feel really good. (Even better than that glass of tequila.) And now there was only one left. She ate it with a sigh.

"All gone," she announced, and turned to look at Malfoy who seemed a bit… strained.

"Awww, too much for you?" she cooed mischievously.

He had to take a few deep breaths before being able to answer.

"Come here, Granger."

Raising a brow with curiosity, she took another step closer to him, still careful to stay out of his reach.

"Closer," he growled.

"No," she smiled and shook her head. "You bite."

"Don't play with snakes if you don't want to get bitten," he said with a feral grin.

"Snake? No. You're a tiger, Malfoy. A white tiger. Grraaurrr!!!"

---

"Did she just roar?"

"Yeah," Ginny nodded. "Don't worry – she does that sometimes."

"When?"

"When we have run out of the room and are hiding under our beds."

"Oh."

---

Did she just call him a white tiger? Yes, she did. It sounded better than Slytherin bastard and obnoxious scumbag. A lot better.

So, what would tigers do when their prey refused to come closer? Draco didn't know that, but he knew what he was going to do.

"Coward, Hermione?" he asked.

Just careful, she wanted to say, but didn't.

"Never," she spoke instead, and stepped closer.

He couldn't grab her shoulders or slide his hands around her waist because they were still chained to the wall at his wrists. But he could lower his head, give her a glance of pure carnal desire and claim her lips in a passionate bruising kiss.

She could have pulled away at any second, but she didn't, since the kiss tasted even better than those cookies.

---

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Ginny was screaming, jumping up from the armchair and doing a little victory dance. Daphne continued sitting and looking smug.

"You owe me five Galleons, by the way," the brunette said after a while.

"We did it! We did it! We did it!" Ginny chanted, then fell breathlessly back to her seat.

"You were cheating," she accused. "I didn't know about the aphrodisiac."

"The bet was about Draco falling for it, or should I say for her, and he didn't get any of that stuff."

"Oh. Oh, all right then. You win." She gave her friend the money, then resumed watching the scene in front of them.

"Didn't you want to take pictures?" Daphne asked after a couple of moments.

"Oh! Oh yes!" Ginny exclaimed, took out a camera and started snapping the photos. Once having enough counter-blackmail material, she put it away again.

"Hmm," Daphne remarked after a while. "They don't seem to be stopping any time soon, do they?"

"No, they really don't."

The two chaos-makers sat in silence for a while longer.

"Do you think we should give them some privacy," the Gryffindor suggested. "You know… erm… privacy?"

"They still have their clothes on," Daphne argued.

"Not for long," she commented.

They followed the happenings quietly again.

"When do you think he will notice he isn't chained anymore?" Ginny wondered.

"He surely is using his hands already."

They stared through the magical hole.

They blushed.

They turned around quickly and were very thankful the spell only let them see and not hear the happenings.

"I guess we should go," Ginny said once her face wasn't the same colour as her hair anymore. "Our job here is clearly done. Take the spell down, will you?"

"No way," Daphne shook her head. "I want to see how this is going to end."

"I have a very clear idea how this is going to end," Ginny stated.

"Not that end. I mean after. I want to know whether they talk about it, or whether they shout at each other, or whether one of them simply sneaks away."

"Hmm… want to have another bet?"

"All right. I say she sneaks away," Daphne said.

"And I say they scream at each other, she slaps him and runs away."

"For another five Galleons?"

"Sure," Ginny said in a tone of a person who doesn't have five Galleons but hopes to get it soon.

"All right. I suppose we will be here for a while longer then."

"Yeah."

---

Approximately fifteen minutes later, Ginny chanced a look over her shoulder. They had moved the armchairs around, so that now they sat with their backs towards the hole in the wall.

"Not yet," she blushed.

"And since that day Adrian has never touched a Chocolate Frog again," Daphne finished her story. "Hey, have I told you the one about Blaise's evil plan to get back on Hannah Abbot? The one with snowman?"

"No, I can't say you have. But please do."

After ten minutes Ginny was rolling on the floor laughing. Who could have guessed Slytherins were this funny? Or this stupid. The tale had been about Blaise turning himself into a snowman to eavesdrop on a conversation between Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot. The latter had turned him down the day before and as a Slytherin he wasn't going to let her get away with it. However, a snowman holding a wand had been a bit suspicious, although it was much better than a snowman without a wand (after Susan had taken it away from him, thinking someone must have forgotten it here, and carried it inside); at least from the snowman's point of view, who couldn't get in without melting, and couldn't turn himself back without his wand. In the end, Blaise had had to spend the night outside. As a snowman, it wasn't cold, but it had been damn boring.

"He did get back on Hannah, though," Daphne smiled.

"Your turn to look," Ginny ordered, once she had stopped laughing.

The Slytherin did look, and turned back with an unfathomable expression.

"They haven't left yet, have they?" Ginny worried.

"No, they haven't," she answered cryptically. "Are you sure you don't want to take any more pictures? Witch Weekly would pay a fortune for these."

Ginny took a peek through her fingers.

"I think Hermione is going to kill me."

"Yes, that is a possibility."

---

Half an hour later, when it was Daphne's turn again to look, she didn't glance away at once.

"I see movement," she announced happily.

Ginny choked on her lemonade.

"Not that kind of movement," her friend corrected. "The sneaking away kind of movement."

"Oooh!" Ginny exclaimed and turned to watch.

And indeed, Hermione was sneaking around the dungeon in search of her clothes.

"Aha!" Daphne said.

"Don't aha! me yet. She will start yelling any second now. I know it."

Hermione didn't start yelling. Instead she dressed as quickly as possible, and began to sneak out of the room.

"Aha!" Daphne said again.

"Wake up, wake up, wake up," Ginny muttered under her breath. "Wake up, Malfoy, and start yelling. I'll give you two Galleons if you wake up this moment."

"How can anyone sleep on the cold damp stone!" she exclaimed angrily as the last sight of Hermione was gone.

"He's not sleeping," Daphne beamed. "He's faking sleep."

"Hell he is!" Ginny shouted, then watched Draco open both his eyes and get up slowly.

"Haa!" Daphne smirked.

"Fine, fine," the redhead snapped in defeat. She didn't like to lose. Twice. In one day. "You'll get your money tomorrow. I don't have it with me right now."

"I know what will make you feel better," the Slytherin said in a sing-song voice, after Ginny had cleaned up the room with stabbing each foreign object (the carpet, the fireplace, and the armchairs she had conjured up before to make the room cozy and comfortable) with her wand as if there were centuries of blood-feud between them. The magical one-way hole in the wall received an especially murderous gaze before being taken down.

"What?" she grumbled.

"Let's have a talk with Draco."

Ginny stopped her furious mumbling, and thought about it.

"He is going to curse us."

"He doesn't have a wand."

"He is going to strangle us."

"We do have our wands."

"He will go ballistic."

"Of course."

"Let's go!" Ginny exclaimed and rushed to the door.

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