AN: This was written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition on ff.net. Also, it's WONDERFUL to have Ashwinder back!!!!!!!!!!
Severus stared at Hermione, his face betraying none of his nervousness as she flicked her wand and mixed the huge amount of flour and salt in her large metal bowl. “Are you quite sure you know what you’re doing?”
Annoyed, the witch shot him a dirty look. “Of course I know what I’m doing. I always know what I’m doing.” She pulled two dozen eggs out of the refrigerator.
He snorted and in a sing-song voice intoned, “Here, kitty kitty.”
“Oh shove off!” she snapped, irritated that he had referenced her Polyjuice accident. She twitched her wand again, showing her considerable skill in Charms as all twenty-four eggs cracked themselves at once and poured their contents into the bowl. “Go snark at something else. You’re disturbing my noodle-Fu.”
“What the devil is ‘noodle-foo?’”
Hermione tried stirring the mess with a charm, but it just wouldn’t work right. She gave up and grabbed a large wooden spoon from a drawer. “It’s like Kung-Fu; you know, ‘Grasshopper’ and all that?” She could tell by his suspicious glance at the bowl that he was looking for bugs. “For fuck sake, Severus, I’m referencing a Muggle show on the telly.”
He drew himself up to his full height and sneered, refusing to let her know she had gotten one over on him. “I knew that. I was simply testing you.”
Grunting with the effort of stirring so much dough, she replied, “Yes, well, thank you Professor Snape. Why don’t you go in the living room and test Lucius on something?”
Severus left in a huff, but before he got out of the kitchen door he heard a snapping sound and Hermione swearing. He turned back around to see her holding the pieces of her wooden spoon.
“Hellfire and buggeration! How am I supposed to get all these splinters out of the dough?” She began to panic. “How am I supposed to serve the house-elves a special dinner if I can’t even make noodles right?”
Severus laughed at her; he should have stopped when her eyes narrowed. “I am stunned that Minerva hired you. A Charms professor who can’t even manage a simple Accio? Tsk tsk tsk. Such a shame.”
Counting to ten in her mind, Hermione forced a smile. “Why don’t you go talk with our most gracious host and see if you two can start a game of chess, or Exploding Snap, or perhaps dueling to the death?”
He sighed. “The meaner you are, the more I love you.”
Breathing out an exasperating sigh, she grinned. “I love you too. Now buzz off.”
Alone in the kitchen at last, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work. “Accio splinters!” She directed them into a pile on the floor and was about to banish them when an idea so amazing, so inspiring, so perfect flashed into her mind that she squealed like a first-year.
Malfoy Manor had an absolutely huge kitchen, so Hermione knew she had plenty of room. She cleared a large space in the middle and then conjured up twenty-four tables, each with its own smaller mixing bowl. She then divided the dough into equal portions, filling each bowl with the badly-mixed concoction. She then conjured herself a blue pointed hat covered in stars.
“For ambiance,” she told herself.
Hermione formed complex runes in the air with her wand, and when she was done the symbols nearly circled the kitchen. She finished the complex charm and directed the power to the pile of splinters. “Quia oboedisti voci meae!* Do what you must to make my noodles!”
The lights dimmed and came back to full brightness as the splinters stood on their ends and grew until each was a copy of the original spoon. They jumped up into the twenty-four bowls and began mixing.
Lucius burst through the kitchen door, closely followed by Severus. “The candles all dimmed in the parlor. What the hell are you doing to my home, Granger?”
Severus quickly ascertained the situation. “Well, you have discovered you are a witch after all. Brava.” He smirked. “Lovely hat.”
Hermione stuck her tongue out at him.
Lucius walked between the tables, observing what was going on. “Not bad, not bad.” He reached into a bowl to feel the dough, and the spoon mixing it reared up and soundly smacked his hand. “Damn!” he growled, drawing his wand to banish the offending kitchen utensil. “Begone, ill-mannered spoon.”
“Wait!” Hermione was too late; Lucius’s spell went off before she could stop him.
An unholy quiet descended on the kitchen as everything stopped. Runes lit up all around the room, and the spoons quivered gently as the floating symbols rearranged themselves before descending once again into the animated wood. Each spoon slowly rose into the air and turned towards Lucius.
Severus sighed. “Oh, fuck.” He turned to Hermione. “It’s the brooms with buckets of water, isn’t it?”
He glanced at Lucius, who was in the center of a tightening circle of menacing wooden spoons. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he?”
She nodded again.
Lucius snarled. “I refuse to be held hostage by utensils!” He aimed a blasting hex at the circle and shattered the spoons into a thousand pieces.
Hermione covered her mouth with her hands as the inevitable happened: each shard grew into a new wooden spoon and attacked Lucius.
Twenty-four spoons broke away from the mob and went back to mixing Hermione’s noodle dough, but the rest built a scaffold with Lucius at the top.
“Get me out of here!” Lucius roared, his hair coming out of its neat ponytail. “This kitchen rabble will ruin my robes!”
“Just stay still for Merlin’s sake!” Severus could see that the spoons were just holding him in place. “Let them finish their task and you’ll be set free.”
“Like hell I will, Severus. Malfoys never go down without a fight!” Lucius pulled his wand arm free and tried banishing the spoons around him.
The effect was instantaneous. The spoons draped Malfoy over a table, pulled down his pants, and proceeded to spank him.
“Ahh! Get me out of here! Fucking hell!”
The spoons timed their blows with the rhythm of stirring noodles; smack, smack, stir, smack, smack, stir. Hermione doubled over with laughter.
Severus pulled her to him and glared. “Your spell is working too bloody well. Did you add this component to it?”
Hermione heaved a great breath. “I only wish I had! This really has a beat you can dance to!” She collapsed in a heap of unhinged giggling.
Rolling his eyes in disgust, Severus went to Lucius and glared. “This is your fault, you know.”
“I’m the one being assaulted here!”
“Oh give over, you pansy. Narcissa uses stronger blows than that when she’s caning you.”
“But my dignity, Severus!” Lucius whined. “Where is the consideration for my pride?”
“Oh please. You have no pride, and you have no shame.” Severus pointed to the woman on the floor, giggling madly. “You see that? If she dies from hilarity-induced hyperventilation before I can get her to marry me, I swear by all that you hold dear that I will give Narcissa an altered Pensieve account of this incident so that it looks like you sobbed like a little girl.”
That got Lucius’s attention. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Severus leaned in. “And that you cried out for your mum.”
The blond man narrowed his eyes. “You fucking bastard.”
“But I’m a clever bastard.”
Lucius breathed out a martyred sigh. “Alright, fine.” He cleared his throat. “Oh great spanking spoons, I promise not to interfere with your task.”
The spoons reacted instantly, ceasing their spanking and setting Lucius to rights. He straightened his hair and glared at Severus menacingly. “I hate you.” He then placed an affectionate hand on his shoulder. “But you are one hell of a Slytherin.”
“Likewise. Now as for Hermione…”
The woman in question sat up and looked down at herself. “Oooh, I’ve wet ‘em.”
The two men simply stared at her.
“Good grief. It was a ‘Monty Python’ reference!” She stood up and grumbled about “Purebloods” and “remedial telly classes.”
After cleaning herself with a few charms, she ascertained the state of her dough. “Oh, fantastic! My noodles have been properly mixed.” She summoned the dough back into the large bowl and said, “Now, how to get them rolled out…”
They left her to it.