RP: Learning to cook
"Oh, that's all right. Why don't you send Kreacher out to get it? They can keep the house fully stocked with food," he said as he shrugged and looked curiously at the mixture on the counter that was mixing itself. It was evident that he'd never seen anything quite like this. "You really should have fresh fruit around, it's good for you." He took the spoon and started to stir it and then wrinkled his nose, obviously not that impressed with work. "That hurts my wrist," he complained as he started to poke through cupboards curiously.
"I don't really like Kreacher. So, I don't really talk to him much," he explained. "I'd rather cook my own food. I don't trust Kreacher. At all." He went about fixing breakfast idly. He watched Draco looking around as though he'd never seen anything like this. "What's wrong? Never been inside a kitchen… ?" Well, probably not one in this condition. This was one of the rooms Harry usually avoided. He could almost hear Sirius laughing while he was in here. He giggled that stirring hurt his wrist. "You get used to it."
"Well, I don't need to get used to it. I'll have house-elves. And Kreacher didn't seem so bad the other night. He brought me butterbeer." Then Draco realized he hadn't really seen Kreacher much since then. Probably because of what he was doing with Harry. He frowned, shifting a little uneasily. "Do you think my mum knows? You know... what I'm doing... what we're doing here?" he asked, finally closing the pantry. He really hadn't seen much of any kitchen. He decided it wasn't that interesting. He sat on the table, pushing his purple robe lightly over his legs.
"Kreacher is horrible. Like him if you want, but don't trust him. Just don't. He… practically killed Sirius." He left it at that. He poured some of the mixture in the skillet and started rifling through the drawers for a spatula. "I don't know if she knows. I don't really think she'd ask Kreacher. If anything, she probably doesn't want to know," he said, leaning against the counter and charming the skillet clean with a tap of his wand. Truthfully, he and Narcissa hadn't talked about it specifically. More like allegory. "Why? How do you think she'd react?"
"I don't know how she'd react. It's just creepy for your parents to know... things you do... like that." He got quiet then. He remembered now why Kreacher seemed familiar. He'd seen him around the manor, his mum had talked to him and then Sirius was dead. He was putting all of those things together and looked somber as he looked at the table he was sitting on. Of course, his family had been in trouble with the Dark Lord, it had gotten them out of some of it at least until his father got arrested. He rested his chin in his hands and watched Harry cooking. "So you cooked when you were a Muggle?"
Harry had let the Sirius situation go. Mostly because Dumbledore thought they were worth saving. But, really, what choice did he have? It wasn't like he was going sit around and hold a lifetime grudge when he could help the people who needed it. "I wasn't ever a Muggle. I lived with my aunt and uncle until a couple months ago. They used to make me cook." He squinted, as if trying to remember while he flipped the pancakes over. "I can't really remember a time when I didn't cook. Pretty much as soon as I could see over the edge of the stove."
"Well, you were living as a Muggle. You didn't know you were a wizard, right? I thought it said that in the Daily Prophet." He hopped off of the table and moved behind Harry. He wrapped his arms around him from behind and rested his chin on his shoulder to watch what Harry was doing. "How do you know when they need turning over?" He frowned that Harry had spent so much time cooking, but then again, he didn't know how old you were supposed to be before you started to cook. "It's a good skill to have, I guess. If you have a house and a house-elf you don't trust. Thanks for not laughing at me."
"They never told me. All they ever said was my parents died in a car crash. Hagrid showed up and told me the truth on my eleventh birthday," he said. He realized while he was speaking that he'd never really volunteered any of this information to anyone before. He looked down at Draco's arms around his waist and almost smiled. His heart did flip flop in his chest. "They need turning over when the top starts to bubble a little around the edges. Usually they're kind of brown when you turn them," he answered, turning his head to press a kiss to Draco's temple. He whispered, "You're welcome," and started stacking the pancakes on a plate. "It's a skill, I guess. I don't like cooking all the time." But I'd do it if you asked me to.
"Usually the house-elves do it. I think mum might've baked my sweets personally but I'm not sure. Sometimes that just means that she picked out the recipes." He'd never really asked. He closed his eyes at the kissing and listened intently to how you knew when to flip them. "That seems easy enough. Although I suppose if Muggles do it, it couldn't be that hard. It smells good. Is there any syrup?" he asked as he looked around for a plate.
Harry reached out and blindly opened the cabinet with the plates in it as he poached the eggs. They weren't as perfect as his pancakes, but he couldn't really be picky. "Charm it clean," he said, sounding paranoid. He just really didn't know with Kreacher and it wasn't like the house was the cleanest place in the world. If he ever got some spare time, he was going to clean it out. Part of him didn't want to. It was… Sirius's. "Syrup should be in the cupboard? And Muggles do loads of complicated things. Don't underestimate them just because they're Muggles."
"Yes, yes, terribly smart, those Muggles are." He waved his hand, he didn't much care. He went to the cupboard and pulled out the syrup after charming the plates clean. Then he set out glasses of juice and after poking around he found the napkins. He grinned at Harry as breakfast was served and he started to eat. "This really is good. You could be a chef." He smirked as he looked down. "Just have to be good at everything, don't you Potter?"
"You shouldn't complain, Malfoy. If I weren't so good you wouldn't be glowing and you'd probably be really hungry," he teased, smearing peanut butter on his pancakes. "I'm going to be an Auror. Well. That's what I was going to be." He didn't want to think about that. Save the world and then be unable to do what you wanted with your life. How ridiculous. "What about you? When you consulted about careers?" he asked, taking a big bite of pancake. He was actually very curious to know what Draco had chosen.
"I didn't choose anything. There didn't seem much point. I just chatted with Snape a while. I don't remember what he put down for me. Potion maker or something. It didn't matter, really. I think everyone figures I'll just do what my father did and go into politics in the Ministry. You don't actually need grades for that, just connections. And I had those. When my father was put in prison... well, then you just lie low a few years and then things change. People forget. My dad was suspected of being a Death Eater and they put him in charge of schools." He finished his breakfast quickly, almost completely cleaning his plate.
Harry almost dropped his fork. "Everyone figures you'll do something so you just… do it?" he asked, raising his brows. "Is that what you want to do?" It sounded like Draco was just resigned to the idea of being like his father. Mopping up the last bit of syrup on his plate, he shoved it in his mouth and grabbed Draco's empty plate. He supposed it didn't matter. It wasn't like they were going to finish school, which meant they really couldn't do anything. He dropped the plates in the sink and decided to save clean up for later. It made Harry bitter. Very bitter. "It doesn't matter, I don't guess. Not now. Does it? We're not finishing school. Good thing we're rich."
"Well it doesn't really forestall my career track very much as I don't need to have completed NEWTS to become a politician. As for what I want to do... well... I've never really given that much thought, I guess. Being rich and lounging around definitely has its appeal. Especially now that I know it has such company? Besides, if I'm a politician and you want to be an Auror, then I'll just change the rules." He said it very simply and then shrugged as if nothing really bore thinking about further than that. If Harry needed the rules changed, then the rules could be changed. "All you really need is money to get things done. I would think that much would've been obvious by now.
Harry dumped the rest of the dishes into the sink and looked down at them. Was it that simple? He wanted it to be. Draco said it like it was so easy. Harry looked at him and smiled sadly. "I guess you have a point." Being rich and lounging around wouldn't satisfy Harry. He'd get bored. The company seemed great, though. That part would definitely keep him occupied. Something had been nagging at the back of his mind, something about Lolly. Not about her specifically, but seeing a unicorn got him to thinking. Maybe he had a lead? He walked back over to Draco and took his hand, waving their fingers together sweetly. "I think you like me, Malfoy. I think you like me a lot."
Draco blinked. "Of course I like you. I wouldn't be having sex with you if I didn't like you." In truth, lounging around wouldn't quite satisfy Draco either but he didn't really know that yet. Being rich and lounging around had pretty much been his life, or so he thought. But he'd been kept busy with riding and playing piano and other fairly nerdy passtimes that he wouldn't admit to Harry. He squeezed Harry's hand back and grinned at him. "You like me a lot, too."
Harry grinned back at him and held his hand out, making his index finger and thumb about an inch apart. "Maybe just a little bit," he teased and leaned in to kiss his faintly syrupy lips. He should go find Hermione and Ron and tell them his theory on the unicorn, but he was selfish and didn't want to leave Draco. He flopped down in his lap as if this was a huge decision and sighed. Why did theories have to hit him when he was actually having a good time? "I need to go to the Burrow," he said finally. But I want to stay here with you. Ask me to stay, point out that I said I would. He knew he should go. It wasn't very optional. They needed to find all the pieces of Voldemort soul. Period.
"But you said you were going to stay with me today," Draco wailed without hesitation. "Why would you want to go see those... Weasleys... when you could spend time with me?" Of course Draco didn't understand. He had no idea about horcruxes or theories or what Harry might be doing, and he probably shouldn't know. But it didn't help in times like these when he wanted Harry to stay. He wrapped his arms around his waist and held him tightly as if that would keep Harry from leaving. "What's at the Burrow anyway, other than Ron? You like him, don't you?" he huffed.
Harry straddled Draco's waist and hooked his bare feet around the legs of the chair. He wrapped one arm around his neck and brought his other hand up to stroke his face. "Those Weasley's are my family," he whispered, pressing little comforting kisses to his forehead. Of course, that had no weight with why he had to go now. He wasn't sure if he should tell Draco. He hated to jump up and leave without an explanation. But he didn't want him to know too much. Would that put him in more danger? Well, being blind to the situation made him very much in danger. Didn't it? Harry gave the mental equivalent of a groan. Why did things have to be so complicated? He was jolted from these thoughts at the accusation of liking Ron. "Hermione's at the Burrow, too. Not only Ron is there. And I don't like Ron the same way I like you. You're special, you know that, right?"
"I am? I always kind of thought you and Ron... maybe. Although he made moon eyes at that Mu-ggle born a lot." He looked a little shifty at his good save. It was habit. He winced a little and looked away. "I thought..." he frowned and got quiet. Well, no, he wasn't exactly Harry's family now. And really, they hadn't been doing this sort of thing a long time. He frowned and cast his eyes around the kitchen. Alone in an unfamiliar house with new sounds. He was a little scared. But it wasn't as bad as Muggle London, he supposed. "I guess... Lolly can keep me company."
Harry felt a very strange feeling in his stomach. It took him a moment to realize he was feeling very guilty and sad at the same time. Leaving Draco there with nothing but Lolly seemed heartless. He blurted out the next part before he could stop himself, "Do you want to go with me?" It probably wasn't a very smart invitation. He was sure that most of the Weasley's would be tolerant and nice since he was with Harry. How was he going to talk to Ron and Hermione if Draco went?
Draco looked torn. He wasn't sure if he wanted to go into the heart of Weasley territory, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be left here, either. He looked around the room again, feeling very small. "How... how good are the wards here?"
Harry nuzzled his face. "The wards are really good. The Ministry put them up." He figured Draco knew what to do if someone managed to get past the wards. Maybe he'd put up an extra one before he left. He remembered Hermione pointing a few small but useful ones out to him. "Would you feel better if I put another one up?" he asked quietly, swiping his thumbs over his cheeks.
I'd feel better if you didn't leave me here. "What's going on at the Weasleys? Is it dangerous?" he asked, looking into Harry's eyes, his own rather wide. He clung tightly to Harry, pulling him closer. "I'll go if it's not.. would I be in your way?"
Was it dangerous? Not yet. "I just need to talk to Ron and Hermione about something very important," he answered honestly. It doesn't matter if you're in the way, everyone would just have to get over it. "Do you want to go?"
It took him a moment to answer. His pride was conflicting with his fear and in the end, fear of the Weasleys was less than his fear of being in this big house alone. He nodded. "Besides, you promised to stay with me." He didn't even care that he was pouting now. He grabbed Harry's hands in his and held them tightly.
To Harry, this was like introducing someone to his parents. Except Draco had already met most of them and… well. That didn't matter. Harry was still somewhat excited, even thought they were all going to give him weird looks and try to talk to him alone. "Let me go get dressed!"