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#just how he cooks shite pasta for the kid
larrylimericks · 1 year
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8Nov22
An article in syndication— A chance to reach new populations! On new music? You’d think. No, these 200 links Share Lou’s “parenting’s hard” revelation.
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Day 125.3 Accidental Bonding (Part 3)
You can start at Part One, if you'd like.)
"Piss off, Malfoy," Jenkins snarled from across the room at the end of the training exercise, drawing Harry's attention from the conversation he was having with Ron. "You are such an arsehole. You think you're so clever, so much better than us," he shoved Malfoy's shoulders, "but you're just a slimy Dark Lord worshiper-"
"Oy!" Harry shouted, darting forward and physically putting his body between Jenkins and Malfoy, "Don't talk to him like that."
"I'll talk to that fu-"
"You need to back down," Harry growled, his body thrumming with energy, fingers tingling with the urge to punch Jenkins in the face, his magic racing hot and bright under his skin.
Malfoy put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Don't," he said. "He's not worth it."
He glared at the other man for a moment before taking a step toward the locker room.
"Oh, I get it," Jenkins sneered, "some people are so possessive of their pets. He's letting you fuck him now, so-"
Harry spun around so fast that Jenkins didn't have a moment to see what was about to happen as Harry's fist connected with his jaw. "Watch your mouth," he growled, low in his throat. "We aren't sleeping together but even if we were that wouldn't change the fact that he is twice the auror you will ever be." He took another step closer, "He's smarter, faster, and has better instincts. And everyone knows that your pathetic attempts to belittle him are out of jealousy. So you can fuck off before you make an even bigger arse of yourself."
"Alright," Ron said, holding out his hands between them. "That's enough."
Jenkins spat blood at Harry's feet but had the good sense not to say anything more as he left and slammed the door behind him.
Harry turned to see Malfoy storming away from him. "Malfoy," he shouted but the other man threw him a two fingered salute and stalked off.
"What the hell?" Harry grumbled.
(Read more below the cut)
Ron shrugged, "Beats me, mate." He slapped him on the shoulder, "but I wouldn't want to be going home with him. He looked pissed."
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Regrettably Ron was right, Malfoy was pissed. Harry couldn't understand it and the other man wouldn't say a word to him about it.
They went home and Malfoy shut himself in the bedroom without a word, leaving Harry standing completely confused in the living room. "What the hell?" he repeated.
Hands on his hips, he stared off after the other man and replayed what he'd said to Jenkins for the fiftieth time, trying to figure out what had made Malfoy so mad.
Giving up on trying to puzzle it out seemed like the only course of action so he headed into the kitchen and started dinner. In the past week and a half, Draco had cooked, they'd cooked together, or ordered take out. Harry hadn't cooked anything on his own since he's arrived and honestly, he was glad for the chance to cooking now.
He chopped up an onion, diced a carrot, chopped up a stalk of celery, and minced several cloves of garlic. Then he turned to the stove and heated a frying pan, pouring in some olive oil before tossing in the veggies and letting them cook down while he chopped up lettuce for a salad.
After about ten minutes, he added the ground beef, salt, and pepper into the frying pan and uncorked a bottle of Merlot, pouring himself a generous glass and dumping a few ounces in with the beef and veg.
He cast a simple spell to keep the spoon stirring while the beef browned and he turned to cut up tomatoes and onions for the salad and made a simple vinaigrette. When the beef was brown and fragrant, he added in tomato paste, diced tomatoes, basil, oregano, and a dash of nutmeg before stirring it all together.
With a pleased hum, he put the lid on the pot and cast a spell that would condense the simmering time to about thirty minutes instead of three hours.
While the sauce cooked down he baked brownies, tossed the salad, and prepped the water and spaghetti. Boiling the spaghetti, cutting the brownies, and plating everything was easy after that. Harry topped the bowls of bolongese with freshly grated Parmesan and basil.
Then, after a moment of debate, he decided to bring dinner to Malfoy instead of the other way around and laid out their salads, bowls of bolognese, glasses of wine, and brownies onto a tray. He levitated it down the hall and knocked on the door.
"Come in," Malfoy called, sounding bored and detached and Harry had to take a steadying breath to tamp down the irritation that tone of voice invoked before opening the door.
"Made dinner," he said casually.
Malfoy turned his head from where he was laying on the bed, idly catching a snitch and releasing it. He sat up, his blonde hair trailing behind him, "It smells good."
"You don't need to sound surprised," Harry teased.
Malfoy opened his mouth to protest but Harry continued as he set the tray in the middle of the bed.
"I'm just kidding," he assured quickly.
"Do you really think that it's wise to consume red wine and pasta on a white bed?" Malfoy asked, one eyebrow arched at him as he climbed onto the bed across the tray from Malfoy.
"It'll be fine," Harry assured as he picked up his salad bowl and speared a tomato. "We're wizards, we'll magic it away if we must."
Malfoy hummed but picked up his own salad. "Thank you."
He shrugged a shoulder, "No problem. I like to cook, actually."
"Do you?" Malfoy asked curiously.
Harry nodded, "Yeah. Once we left Hogwarts and I was living on my own, I was eating out all the time and it wasn't doing me any favors. So I learned how to make some simple things that taste good." He tilted his head, "What about you? You're not a bad cook."
His cheeks turned a light pink and he cleared his throat, "That's Granger's doing actually."
"Sorry?"
He sighed, "She made a really good case about house elves. I didn't want to be who my parents wanted me to be so when I moved out and joined the aurors, I basically shunned anything that whiffs of pureblood bullshit. It has no place here," he said gesturing to his home with his fork.
Harry blinked, "That's amazing."
"Shut up."
"No, I'm serious," Harry said. "You're amazing and I had no idea."
"Stop," Malfoy said. "Please, it's not-"
"Is that what earlier was about?"
Malfoy stilled, "Excuse me?"
"Is that why you were upset?" he asked. "You thought that I was taking the piss?"
"I thought that you have an insufferable hero complex that makes me want to vomit," he growled.
"You're a hedgehog," Harry said, finally understanding.
Malfoy froze, "Who told you that?"
"Told me what?" Harry asked.
"That my patronus is a hedgehog," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Harry laughed and Malfoy flushed cherry red, his eyes narrowed. "No, sorry," Harry said holding out a hand, "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because I had no idea, honestly!"
"Then what made you say it?" he asked suspiciously.
"Just," he paused and took a bite of bolognese as he searched for the right words, "When you start to feel vulnerable or like someone is going to hurt you, you curl into this defensive ball that will stab at someone no matter what they say or do."
"I-"
"You are genuinely one of the best aurors in our class," Harry said earnestly, steering the conversation to something more tangible that they were less like to fight over. "I was serious."
Malfoy rolled his eyes, "You're just saying that because the bond-"
He shook his head, "I've always thought that," he protested. "It's annoying as fuck because it always seems like everything comes so easily to you. I used to complain about it to Ron all the time."
"Says you," Malfoy protested. "You're always doing everything right; throwing yourself into danger to protect people." He shook his head, "By all accounts, what you do shouldn't work but it does. You're a good auror, Potter."
Harry swallowed, "Thanks, Malfoy. That means a lot coming from you."
"Yes, well," he said as he took a sip of wine, "Don't let it go to your head."
Harry chuckled and they took a few bites in companionable silence before Draco started to talk again.
"You didn't have to come to my rescue with Jenkins, you know."
He waved the thought away, "He's an arse. We've had it out before."
"I'm just saying," he argued, "I was fine. Honestly what he was saying wasn't even that bad."
"Not that bad?!" Harry yelped. "He-"
Malfoy shook his head, "It's the bond, Potter, don't you see that? Jenkins has said a lot worse, other trainees have said a lot worse, and you've never felt the need to jump in and defend my honor before."
Harry frowned.
"You're being swayed by what the bond wants you to feel about me."
"I'm not sure you're right," he said. "Because you shouldn't be treated like that at work. No one should be treated like that."
"Be that as it may-"
"I'm just saying, even if the bond brought it to my attention, I would have done that for anyone. If he'd been saying shite like that to Ron, I would have decked him, too."
Malfoy looked like he was going to argue with him, before visibly changing his mind, "You do have a wand, you know. There's no need to resort to brute force."
Harry shrugged, "But there's just something so satisfying about punching someone."
A laughed forced it's way up Malfoy's throat and Harry grinned at him. Shaking his head, Malfoy replied, "You're ridiculous. And this is good, by the way," he added, pointing to his pasta with his fork.
"Good," Harry said with a pleased little smile.
The conversation turned lighter as they bickered about the training exercises and the best approach, but the bickering held none of the animosity it had a week and a half before.
And Harry couldn't help but wonder how much of this was the bond's doing and how much was simply him.
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4
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