Fic: Learning to Cook
Mar. 31st, 2014 06:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alisanneTitle: Learning to Cook
Author:alisanne
Rating: PG
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Summary: Harry is sulking. Perhaps putting him to work is the way to get him out of his doldrums.
Word Count: 1214
Genre: Romance, humor
Warnings: Pre-slash.
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hd_pots_n_porn, prompt #75: Potatoes, for enchanted_jae's Monthly drabble challenge # 97: Cherish, and for hd_fluff's prompt #100: Leaping Leprechauns.
Betas:emynn and sevfan
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Learning to Cook
~
“Come on, Harry!” cried Ron. “Don’t you want to go to the Leaping Leprechaun with us to celebrate me getting into the Aurors?”
Harry, who was moping in his room, sighed. “No thanks!” he called.
He should have known better since about ten seconds later, Hermione was sticking her head around the door. “You can’t stay here and wallow all night, Harry,” she scolded. “It’s not healthy. Just because you can’t decide on a career right now doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”
That wasn’t all it was but, unwilling to say more, Harry just looked away. “I’m not very good company tonight.”
“You’ll be fine once we get out,” said Hermione. Her voice softened. “Is it because you’re the only one of us who’s still single?”
Harry’s head popped up and he stared at her. “How--?”
She smiled. “You should know better than to try to hide these things from me. And honestly, how are you going to find someone when you’re cooped up here?”
Harry sighed. She had a point. “I don’t want to just get a leg over some random bloke in a pub, either--”
“Well you need to do something,” said Hermione. “There’s only so much time you can spend with your right hand.”
“Hermione!”
She coughed. “You know what I mean.”
Harry’s response was cut short when Luna appeared behind Hermione. She tilted her head when she saw him. “Oh! You have a lot of Wrackspurts, Harry.” She smiled. “The only way to get rid of them is to come out with us. Wrackspurts hate leprechauns.”
Harry sighed. Once Luna was involved he had no chance, and so it was that he ended up nursing a green beer in the Leaping Leprechaun.
“Aren’t the potatoes here great?” said Ron. “I’ve tried the mashed, the boiled and even the baked, but these fried chips are the best!”
Harry shrugged. He wasn’t really hungry.
“Honestly, Harry, you need to eat,” said Hermione. She leaned in. “And even I have to admit, these chips are quite good.”
Rolling his eyes, Harry snagged a chip, but when he put it in his mouth and the hot, crispy, buttery flavour hit him, his eyes widened. “Wow!”
“I know, right?” Ron seemed to be stuffing the chips in as fast as they would go. “These are the best chips I’ve ever had.”
Harry ate another, looking around as he did so. Everyone in the bar seemed to gorging themselves on the chips and an alarm went off in his head. “Do you think there’s something in the chips?” he whispered to Hermione.
She shrugged. “Something like what?” she mumbled, swallowing yet another.
“Like something Dark or nefarious.” Harry’s fingers itched to grab another chip but he only just managed to restrain himself. “I’d better check it out.”
“Wait--”
Ignoring Hermione, Harry headed for the back of the pub, and no one stopped him as he pushed past the double doors that separated the bar from the kitchen.
Once there, Harry looked around until he saw someone in a white chef’s jacket standing by the fryer. He frowned. The person looked familiar-- “Malfoy?”
Malfoy spun, and in his hands Harry could see he was holding a basket that was immersed in the fryer. He raised an eyebrow. “Potter. What brings you back to where the peons live?”
“You’re responsible for those chips?” Harry asked.
“I’m the one cooking them, so I suppose so.” Malfoy pulled out another batch and, as Harry watched, dumped them onto a tray. He immediately sprinkled a white powder on them.
“Aha!” exclaimed Harry. “I knew it! You are doing something to the chips!”
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Yes, Potter, I am. It’s called ‘adding salt’ and it makes the chips taste a lot better when you put them on while they’re hot.”
Harry flushed. “Oh.”
Malfoy huffed. “Is there a reason you’re back here harassing me?”
“I just--” Harry’s mouth watered as he saw Malfoy dividing the chips into batches. “I--”
Malfoy sighed. “Here, Potter. Honestly, don’t they feed you?” He handed Harry a basket of chips.
Harry stood there, devouring the chips, watching Malfoy work. He didn’t only make chips, he also cooked other things, and he seemed very at home in the kitchen. “You’re pretty good at that,” he finally said after watching Malfoy put together an delicious-looking and artistic plate of potato cakes with sour cream.
Malfoy snorted. “Much as I cherish your opinion, Potter, what are you doing here?”
Harry pursed his lips. He’d been upset earlier because all his friends seemed to be moving on, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted from life. But watching Malfoy gave him an idea. “I’m here because I want to learn how to cook,” he said.
Malfoy blinked. “You what?”
“You’re chief cook here, right?”
Slowly, Malfoy nodded.
“I want you to teach me how to cook.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Come on,” said Harry. “You can’t claim the idea of bossing me around isn’t appealing.”
Malfoy hummed. “You make a good point.” He looked around. “And it is a busy night. We could use the help.” After a moment, he nodded. “All right, Potter. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Harry grinned. This was going to be fun.
~
By the end of the night Harry was exhausted but exhilarated. Malfoy had given him a crash course in cooking, and since he’d had some experience cooking for his family growing up, he caught on fast. It also didn’t hurt that Malfoy seemed to be flirting with him.
He was having so much fun that he forgot about his friends and it was only when Hermione poked her head into the kitchen while he was helping them clean up that he remembered he’d abandoned them earlier in the night.
“Harry, what are you doing?” she asked when she saw him.
“Learning to cook,” Harry said proudly.
She raised an eyebrow. “But why?”
“Because it’s fun.”
She hummed. “You’ve found your calling, then, have you?” She glanced over at Malfoy. “I should have known.”
Harry blushed. “Cooking’s fun.”
“Mmmhm.” She smirked. “And I suppose it has nothing to do with the company?” Harry’s blush deepened and before he could respond, she shook her head. “That’s what I thought. Now are you glad we made you come out with us?”
Grinning, Harry hugged her. “Yeah.”
Hermione beamed. “We’re off, see you later.” She coughed. “Or tomorrow.”
“What was that all about?” Malfoy asked once Hermione had left.
Harry coughed. “She was just checking that I was all right before she left. She worries about me.”
“Is that so?” Malfoy smirked. “Does this mean you need close monitoring, Potter?”
Harry smiled. “Maybe. You up for the job?”
Malfoy hummed, his expression speculative. “Maybe. You weren’t bad tonight. It could be worth my time to give you some...private lessons.”
The expression on Malfoy’s face made Harry’s heart speed up. “When?”
Malfoy leaned against the counter. “Well, since your friends seem to have abandoned you, perhaps now would be best.”
“Now works,” said Harry, mouth dry.
“Excellent.” Malfoy held out a hand. “Shall we?”
Harry nodded, taking his hand. Most definitely.
~
Author:
alisanneRating: PG
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Summary: Harry is sulking. Perhaps putting him to work is the way to get him out of his doldrums.
Word Count: 1214
Genre: Romance, humor
Warnings: Pre-slash.
A/N: Written for
hd_pots_n_porn, prompt #75: Potatoes, for enchanted_jae's Monthly drabble challenge # 97: Cherish, and for hd_fluff's prompt #100: Leaping Leprechauns.Betas:
emynn and sevfanDisclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Learning to Cook
~
“Come on, Harry!” cried Ron. “Don’t you want to go to the Leaping Leprechaun with us to celebrate me getting into the Aurors?”
Harry, who was moping in his room, sighed. “No thanks!” he called.
He should have known better since about ten seconds later, Hermione was sticking her head around the door. “You can’t stay here and wallow all night, Harry,” she scolded. “It’s not healthy. Just because you can’t decide on a career right now doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”
That wasn’t all it was but, unwilling to say more, Harry just looked away. “I’m not very good company tonight.”
“You’ll be fine once we get out,” said Hermione. Her voice softened. “Is it because you’re the only one of us who’s still single?”
Harry’s head popped up and he stared at her. “How--?”
She smiled. “You should know better than to try to hide these things from me. And honestly, how are you going to find someone when you’re cooped up here?”
Harry sighed. She had a point. “I don’t want to just get a leg over some random bloke in a pub, either--”
“Well you need to do something,” said Hermione. “There’s only so much time you can spend with your right hand.”
“Hermione!”
She coughed. “You know what I mean.”
Harry’s response was cut short when Luna appeared behind Hermione. She tilted her head when she saw him. “Oh! You have a lot of Wrackspurts, Harry.” She smiled. “The only way to get rid of them is to come out with us. Wrackspurts hate leprechauns.”
Harry sighed. Once Luna was involved he had no chance, and so it was that he ended up nursing a green beer in the Leaping Leprechaun.
“Aren’t the potatoes here great?” said Ron. “I’ve tried the mashed, the boiled and even the baked, but these fried chips are the best!”
Harry shrugged. He wasn’t really hungry.
“Honestly, Harry, you need to eat,” said Hermione. She leaned in. “And even I have to admit, these chips are quite good.”
Rolling his eyes, Harry snagged a chip, but when he put it in his mouth and the hot, crispy, buttery flavour hit him, his eyes widened. “Wow!”
“I know, right?” Ron seemed to be stuffing the chips in as fast as they would go. “These are the best chips I’ve ever had.”
Harry ate another, looking around as he did so. Everyone in the bar seemed to gorging themselves on the chips and an alarm went off in his head. “Do you think there’s something in the chips?” he whispered to Hermione.
She shrugged. “Something like what?” she mumbled, swallowing yet another.
“Like something Dark or nefarious.” Harry’s fingers itched to grab another chip but he only just managed to restrain himself. “I’d better check it out.”
“Wait--”
Ignoring Hermione, Harry headed for the back of the pub, and no one stopped him as he pushed past the double doors that separated the bar from the kitchen.
Once there, Harry looked around until he saw someone in a white chef’s jacket standing by the fryer. He frowned. The person looked familiar-- “Malfoy?”
Malfoy spun, and in his hands Harry could see he was holding a basket that was immersed in the fryer. He raised an eyebrow. “Potter. What brings you back to where the peons live?”
“You’re responsible for those chips?” Harry asked.
“I’m the one cooking them, so I suppose so.” Malfoy pulled out another batch and, as Harry watched, dumped them onto a tray. He immediately sprinkled a white powder on them.
“Aha!” exclaimed Harry. “I knew it! You are doing something to the chips!”
Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Yes, Potter, I am. It’s called ‘adding salt’ and it makes the chips taste a lot better when you put them on while they’re hot.”
Harry flushed. “Oh.”
Malfoy huffed. “Is there a reason you’re back here harassing me?”
“I just--” Harry’s mouth watered as he saw Malfoy dividing the chips into batches. “I--”
Malfoy sighed. “Here, Potter. Honestly, don’t they feed you?” He handed Harry a basket of chips.
Harry stood there, devouring the chips, watching Malfoy work. He didn’t only make chips, he also cooked other things, and he seemed very at home in the kitchen. “You’re pretty good at that,” he finally said after watching Malfoy put together an delicious-looking and artistic plate of potato cakes with sour cream.
Malfoy snorted. “Much as I cherish your opinion, Potter, what are you doing here?”
Harry pursed his lips. He’d been upset earlier because all his friends seemed to be moving on, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted from life. But watching Malfoy gave him an idea. “I’m here because I want to learn how to cook,” he said.
Malfoy blinked. “You what?”
“You’re chief cook here, right?”
Slowly, Malfoy nodded.
“I want you to teach me how to cook.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Come on,” said Harry. “You can’t claim the idea of bossing me around isn’t appealing.”
Malfoy hummed. “You make a good point.” He looked around. “And it is a busy night. We could use the help.” After a moment, he nodded. “All right, Potter. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Harry grinned. This was going to be fun.
~
By the end of the night Harry was exhausted but exhilarated. Malfoy had given him a crash course in cooking, and since he’d had some experience cooking for his family growing up, he caught on fast. It also didn’t hurt that Malfoy seemed to be flirting with him.
He was having so much fun that he forgot about his friends and it was only when Hermione poked her head into the kitchen while he was helping them clean up that he remembered he’d abandoned them earlier in the night.
“Harry, what are you doing?” she asked when she saw him.
“Learning to cook,” Harry said proudly.
She raised an eyebrow. “But why?”
“Because it’s fun.”
She hummed. “You’ve found your calling, then, have you?” She glanced over at Malfoy. “I should have known.”
Harry blushed. “Cooking’s fun.”
“Mmmhm.” She smirked. “And I suppose it has nothing to do with the company?” Harry’s blush deepened and before he could respond, she shook her head. “That’s what I thought. Now are you glad we made you come out with us?”
Grinning, Harry hugged her. “Yeah.”
Hermione beamed. “We’re off, see you later.” She coughed. “Or tomorrow.”
“What was that all about?” Malfoy asked once Hermione had left.
Harry coughed. “She was just checking that I was all right before she left. She worries about me.”
“Is that so?” Malfoy smirked. “Does this mean you need close monitoring, Potter?”
Harry smiled. “Maybe. You up for the job?”
Malfoy hummed, his expression speculative. “Maybe. You weren’t bad tonight. It could be worth my time to give you some...private lessons.”
The expression on Malfoy’s face made Harry’s heart speed up. “When?”
Malfoy leaned against the counter. “Well, since your friends seem to have abandoned you, perhaps now would be best.”
“Now works,” said Harry, mouth dry.
“Excellent.” Malfoy held out a hand. “Shall we?”
Harry nodded, taking his hand. Most definitely.
~
no subject
Date: 2014-04-01 10:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-04-05 09:36 pm (UTC)