Note: this fic was written for Jaden Malfoy87 in The DG Forum's Secret Santa Exchange 2018. Jaden's prompt is at the bottom. Dear Jaden, thank you for inspiring me to write something for the first time in several years. I'm more than a bit rusty but I hope you enjoy this!
P.S.: If the mention of the dreaded soggy bottoms didn't make it obvious, this fic was also inspired by my helplessly binge-watching several seasons of the international treasure known as The Great British Bake Off over the past months. Merry Christmas, everyone!
Baking Is for Quitters
xXx
Part 1: When hell freezes over.
The week before the start of Christmas break found one Ginny Weasley busy perfecting a newly devised recipe. She'd screwed it up in various new and interesting ways before finally achieving the perfect blend of flavors and textures, but as of yet she'd not thought of a name for her caramel and chocolate confections.
"Oooh, these are delicious!" fellow Gryffindor Sally Smith declared on tasting her treats. "You'll get full marks for them, I'm sure. Can't say the same for me after my lemon sponge came out in such a sorry state," she fretted. "Ugh, you're not supposed to barely pass a cooking elective, I'm pretty sure."
"That sponge tastes amazing! I'm sure that'll make up for the slight bit of flatness," Ginny reassured her friend. She arranged her tray of caramel treats alongside her perfectly baked shepherd's pie, which would fulfill the savory requirement of her final presentation.
She had taken the cooking elective mostly to help reassure Molly Weasley that her youngest child wouldn't be completely defenseless living on her own. She planned to move out of The Burrow shortly after graduation next year, and "You'll starve to death out there on your own!" was one less argument to contend with now. To her surprise, she'd found that she was not only a more than competent cook—she absolutely loved it, especially anything that involved baking. From the gnawing uncertainty while waiting for a souffle to rise or a cake to turn out, to the agony of a soggy bottom and the absolute joy of a perfectly laminated pastry shell—she genuinely loved every part of the baking process. For her, baking was truly an adventure, one that had allowed her to explore a creative side of herself that until then had remained dormant. In a time of complete uncertainty, it had provided her a welcome respite from the anxiety of larger than life problems.
On this occasion her typically exacting instructor Madame Berry had nothing but praise for her presentation, and once again encouraged Ginny to continue developing what she referred to as "her gift."
"You really can make a career of this, Ginevra," the petite blonde witch insisted before going off to inspect the next offering. "Not everyone has this knack for the arts, the highly discerning palate for blending flavors the way you do. It would be a pity to see it wasted, my dear."
Ginny accepted the elderly witch's warm embrace and extraordinary compliment gratefully, but she was quietly troubled by the thought of the future and what she should do next. She knew that she wanted to strike out on her own and travel as much as possible, but the thought of picking a path and sticking to it made her feel somewhat claustrophobic. And to think that not too long ago it seemed as though everything had already been figured out for her.
"Lovely, everyone!" Madame Berry declared on completing her inspection, beaming with obvious pride. "Congratulations on completing your course. We will now share the fruit of your efforts with your fellow students, and they shall be the final judge."
As was usual for each end of course presentation, Hogwarts students from every house and year crowded into the classroom eager to sample the best of the graduating classes' forays into cooking.
Ginny received effusive praise for her pie and especially her treats, but saw with a pang that many of her former Quidditch teammates didn't bother to come by her table at all.
"Give them time," Chaser Jenny Wood advised. "I don't blame you for doing what you need to do, but we're really struggling since you've left and they're a bit upset. They'll come around."
"Hmm…Doubt." From behind Jenny, Slytherin Chaser Blaise Zabini actually took the time to pose with his finger on his chin, eyes to the sky as if truly questioning. Beside him, Slytherin captain Draco Malfoy smirked as he came up to her display and eyed it with obvious skepticism.
Great.
"That's my cue to leave," Jenny muttered, brushing past the Slytherin boys without bothering to disguise her irritation at Blaise's presence.
"It was a bad breakup," the boy in question stage-whispered to Ginny, shrugging. "Hopefully one day she'll stand to be near me for more than three seconds. Hopefully one day the Gryffindor Quidditch team will stop cursing your name. These are my humble Christmas wishes, Weasley."
"I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for any of that to happen. Hell will freeze over before Gryffindor gets over being left in a ditch," Malfoy declared loftily in his smooth baritone. "But what have we here? Is this what you do now that you've sworn off Quidditch, Weasley?" He picked up a caramel treat and inspected its shiny chocolate top before sniffling it cautiously.
"How is that any of your business, Malfoy?" Ginny spat, her face burning with badly concealed anger.
"It's not," he immediately agreed. "It just amuses me." He looked her in the eye and smirked before popping a treat into his mouth.
A second later the smug expression slipped from his perfectly symmetrical face and she saw his gray eyes widen. She knew he would be tasting her caramel against smooth dark chocolate and a buttery shortbread base. She watched as his eyes briefly closed and then fluttered open, and what sounded suspiciously like a moan erupted from deep within his chest.
"Ohmygod these are amazing," he breathed, and in spite of her anger Ginny felt a burst of pleasure ripple down her spine at the note of genuine admiration in his voice. "Seriously, that's amazing."
She found her eyes glued to the bit of caramel that stuck to the corner of Malfoy's plump bottom lip before he swiftly licked it off. She knew it would taste salty sticky sweet.
"Well...thank you," she managed finally, standing a little straighter.
"Mmm."
"Uhh...do you need a moment, Draco?" Zabini said teasingly, but when he tried a treat for himself he looked at Ginny with newfound respect. "Whoa...That's wild!"
"What's in these?" Malfoy wanted to know, reaching for a second piece.
"It's a secret," Ginny snapped, still fuming over his earlier comments. "Hell will freeze over before you get to know!"
The blond snorted indelicately. "Merlin's balls, can't you take a joke, woman? Who on Earth cares that you've dropped Quidditch? It's not like I'm gutted that Gryffindor won't stand a chance at the House Cup this year."
"STOP SAYING THAT! I'M SO SICK OF PEOPLE SAYING THAT!" the redhead exploded stridently, making Malfoy nearly jump with surprise. "I've not left them 'in a ditch,' they just need time to get used to the new team roster! They're a good team! It's early enough in the year that they'll have time to work it out!" The room had gone silent, and Ginny was suddenly aware that she was standing nose to nose—or rather nose to chin—with the blond Slytherin, one finger angrily jabbed against his chest. She blushed beet red and removed her finger as conversation began to pick up in the room once more.
"Right, keep telling yourself that, love," Malfoy drawled, looking down at her with obvious amusement. His breath had the scent of warm caramel. "How many matches have they won since you've left? They'll be lucky to score even ten points against Hufflepuff tomorrow."
"Oh shut it! I'm sure they can beat Hufflepuff, for heaven's sake."
"Ha," Malfoy deadpanned. "I wouldn't bet on it."
"Well I would."
"Care to make it interesting?" Zabini had been looking from one to the other delightedly, and now came up to rest his arm on his housemate's shoulder.
"I'm in." Malfoy's silvery gray eyes never left hers. "If Hufflepuff wins you'll show me how to make a perfect batch of these." He held a caramel treat aloft and waved it around before taking a bite.
Ginny held his gaze, considering. "And if Gryffindor wins?"
The blond shrugged, then smiled enigmatically. "Your wish is my command."
"Oooh, jackpot!" Zabini exclaimed before Ginny could reply. "Do you have any idea how many girls would kill to hear Draco say that? Whatever it is, make him do it topless!"
Ginny rolled her eyes, ignoring the tiniest twinge of excitement she'd felt at the thought of making Malfoy do anything topless. He might be a prick, but there was no question he was insanely hot—somehow this made him even more annoying. "Fine," she blurted. "If Gryffindor wins you'll run three laps around the year end bonfire… while waving a Gryffindor banner—"
"—Shirtless! What?"
"Zabini…"
Malfoy smirked. "Deal." He held his hand out to her, and she raised her chin slightly before accepting his handshake. His hand was firm, but she was taken off guard by how warm and soft it was. Like, much softer than she'd imagined.
"You can let go now," he informed her. "Prepare to bake, Weasley."
xXx
Part 1 1/2: Merlin's balls!
Ginny viciously swore from the stands as she watched the Hufflepuff Seeker unceremoniously catch the Golden Snitch that Friday afternoon.
"Ginny Weasley, there are children present!" Hermione Granger admonished her sternly.
"Sorry," the redhead snapped without a trace of remorse. "Ugh, I should have known better than to wager against that smarmy git. Hufflepuff has been the top team so far this season. Of course they would win." She continued to voice her displeasure as the two girls walked along with the defeated Gryffindor crowd towards the castle, the cold December air nipping at their cheeks. "Seriously, out of all people who chose to return to Hogwarts to complete their seventh year, why did that insufferable ferret Malfoy have to—"
"I hope you're happy, Weasley" a Gryffindor sixth year cut in, brushing roughly past Ginny and almost knocking her off balance.
"How rude," Hermione said indignantly. "People take Quidditch way too seriously in my opinion."
"Great," Ginny muttered. "Just great."
xXx
Part 1 3/4: It sucks to suck ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Malfoy's majestic black owl had deigned to deliver her a note from his master immediately after the match.
Congratulations, baking lesson at 8PM sharp tomorrow.
DM
P.S: it sucks to suck.
Ginny looked up from the fine parchment to find the blond already looking at her from his place of honor at the center of the Slytherin table. He smiled sarcastically as beside him Blaise Zabini gave her a mocking thumbs up sign.
Just great.
xXx
Part 2: Cider and caramel and Chemical X.
Among many other things, Malfoy was known to be punctual, and Ginny thought about being late just to spite him. Eventually she decided it wasn't worth it being a sore loser, and with a quick glance at the mirror she rushed out of the Gryffindor dorm, past the the cheerful Christmas decorations in the hall, making it to the cooking classroom at exactly eight o'clock on Saturday evening. He was already there, working on getting the fire going.
"You're actually on time." Malfoy didn't bother trying to hide his surprise. He took in her green Weasley Christmas jumper with the large white G knitted boldly in the center. "Interesting fashion choices, Weasley. Green actually suits you."
"I could say the same to you about interesting choices. Who wears cashmere to bake, please?" Ginny snarked, trying to distract herself from the striking figure Malfoy cut in his perfectly fitting black jeans and jumper. He'd rolled up his sleeves to reveal forearms that glowed golden by the flames of the fire, an expensive looking watch glinting on his left wrist. The barest hint of a shadow marred the perfection of smooth skin, where the Dark Mark had once been etched. So much had happened since then that it seemed like a lifetime ago, she mused.
"I brought some of my mum's cider," he said suddenly in his clipped upper class inflection. She watched with obvious surprise as he poured them both cups of cider that he'd gone through the trouble of warming. "I think I owe you an apology for what I said the other day." He paused, and Ginny felt her jaw go slack with shock. "It's the strangest thing. When I heard you were quitting Quidditch it was almost...upsetting." His brow knit slightly. "You're probably the best player in school and it just seemed like a bit of a waste, I guess. But you're right that it's none of my business. So... my apologies, Weasley."
It took a moment for Ginny to place what was different about his voice, and then it hit her that for the first time in the handful of times she'd interacted directly with Draco Malfoy he was actually speaking to her without a hint of irony or animus. If her mouth opened any wider she'd have to pick her jaw up off the floor. She covered up by quickly taking a sip from the cup he'd poured her.
"Wow, that's delicious," she blurted, and Malfoy's lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile. "Thank you," she said hastily. "For this, and... thank you for what you said."
"It's no trouble," he said quietly, holding her startled gaze.
"I...I never said this to you before but I think you're pretty great also... as a Quidditch player, I mean, you fly...I mean, you're really great..." she stammered inarticulately, then quickly turned away before she could make an even bigger fool of herself. "Right. Shall we get cracking? There are aprons back here."
With Malfoy's help she rounded up the utensils and ingredients for the biscuit base of her treats. She let him do all the pouring and mixing, offering guidance or tips on occasion. She couldn't help but notice that he had a natural instinct for how to do things like fold in ingredients or knowing to apply the exact amount of heat with his wand, which on second thought shouldn't surprise her given that he was excellent at Potions. Standing so close beside him she also couldn't help but notice that he smelled divine, like clean and sun and woods.
"Is this right?" he asked, arching a delicate golden eyebrow.
"Yes," she confirmed after inspecting the batter. "Now pour it halfway into each mould... Good job."
Once the shortbreads went into the oven they automatically knelt side by side, peering in through the glass door at their biscuits trays. This bit was something Ginny had privately come to think of as a ritual of sorts for all committed amateur bakers she had come to know.
"It's like we're worshipping or something," Malfoy commented, as if reading her mind.
"Oh great god of the fiery oven!" Ginny declaimed, head bowed and hands outstretched as if in supplication. "Please accept our humble offering. May those shortbreads come out golden and tender and just right!"
Malfoy looked back at her and actually laughed a real, throaty laugh—another first. After some time kneeling, they refilled their cider cups and sat cross legged on the cold stone floor, waiting.
"What you said about it being a waste that I quit Quidditch is what everyone in my family says. They're upset because...well, I was getting scouted by The Harpies this summer," she said suddenly, timidly. Malfoy didn't seem surprised. Emboldened, Ginny pressed on. "They were offering me a three year contract. It seemed too long of a commitment for me. I mean, I love Quidditch, of course, but I don't want to do it forever, you know? But everyone around me seemed to think it a foregone conclusion that I would sign. Everyone seemed to be sure that I'd be a Quidditch pro, that after Hogwarts I'd marry Harry, that our kids would be named after his parents, or Dumbledore or Sirius...It seemed that everyone had already figured everything out about me except me."
She paused, and saw that the Slytherin was looking at her attentively, listening. She drew a shaky breath and continued, her words pouring out as her fingers traced the pattern of the stone floor. "It's like I could see my life unfolding in front of me as if it'd already happened without me. Me trapped in an unhappy marriage with a very nice man, with very nice kids, retired from a very nice Quidditch career and writing for some sports column or coaching some team. A good life, a predictable life. All I had to do was stay the course and it would all happen on its own, as if someone had already decided for me. And that scared me." She paused, her voice barely a whisper. "It seems so silly, doesn't it? But for once I want to do what I want and not just what's expected of me. Is that really so bad?"
Malfoy smiled wryly. "I understand you better than you think."
She looked at him in surprise, then found herself nodding. "You would, wouldn't you?"
They sat in silence for some moments, the fire crackling cheerfully and the scent of rising flour, sugar and warm cider mingling in the air. The things she'd just told Draco Malfoy had been churning inside her for a long time without any sort of outlet. Now that she'd finally been able to say them out loud, she felt as if a huge weight had been lifted. For the first time in a long time, Ginny felt something close to happiness glowing inside of her. She risked a glance at the boy beside her, and found that he'd already been looking at her. Something quickened in her blood and she felt herself caught in his gaze, until he abruptly turned away.
"So what happened with Potter?" He downed the rest of his cider and set his cup on the floor, eyes straight ahead.
"Oh that." Ginny sighed. "Harry and I are too different. We don't really have anything in common anymore. To be honest I sometimes wonder if we ever did." She rested her chin on her knees, the glow from the fire catching in her bright coppery curls. "I was always so grateful to Harry. Because of the Chamber stuff...you know...what happened in my first year…" she trailed off, embarrassed.
She felt more than saw Malfoy nod beside her, and she risked another glance at him before continuing. Unfathomable gray eyes held hers calmly, neither judging nor comforting, his silence allowing her space to continue speaking if she wanted to, without urging her to do so. Ginny felt herself relax, the tension in her body slightly releasing until her back rested gently against cool, ancient stone. "When I woke up in the Chamber I was terrified, and so... ashamed. Harry saved me. He showed me kindness when I felt I deserved to be rejected. He wasn't angry or afraid of me when I was so angry and so afraid of myself. I'll always be grateful to him, nothing can change that. But…"
"You don't love him," Malfoy ventured shortly.
"No, I do love him," Ginny countered. "He's like my brother."
Malfoy snorted and Ginny found herself grinning. "Doesn't really make us a great dating match, does it?"
"Unless you're that sort of family...who am I to judge, really?"
Ginny bumped his shoulder lightly, surprising them both. They looked at each other in silence and again the air felt charged around them. She felt the blood rush in her veins as a hot blush crept up her neck. Her eyes were drawn to his lips, and she suddenly became aware of the short distance between them.
An obnoxiously loud ringing noise suddenly pierced the air, startling them both. Ginny covered her ears and laughed as Malfoy jumped to his feet and ran to the oven.
"Oh my God they're done!" he exclaimed with uncharacteristic excitement. Looking at him leaning over the oven door like a little boy opening a Christmas present made Ginny smile so wide her face hurt. She watched as he pulled their trays out of the steamy oven, the air filled with the delicious smell of perfectly baked shortbread.
"We'll let them cool for a bit before pouring the caramel and chocolate on," Ginny instructed. "Here, use your wand to heat up the sugar water."
"Like this?"
"Perfect." She nodded approvingly. "You know… You're really easy to talk to. I wouldn't have expected that."
The blond looked amused at that. He continued applying heat to the caramel mix, instinctively knowing to use a gentle spark in spite of not getting any instruction on the matter from her.
"What about you?" she asked suddenly.
Draco glanced down at her. "Hmm? What about me?"
"Do you know what you want to do?
He chuckled mirthlessly. "It's funny, Weasley. You don't want to play Quidditch anymore but that's all I've ever really wanted to do. I've also been scouted. Falmouth and the Canons are in a bit of a bidding war at the moment," he said without a trace of self-consciousness. He'd moved on to stirring the thick golden caramel with graceful enveloping motions. "I'm going to let them battle it out but I already know I want Falmouth. Don't tell anyone that, by the way. Is this right?"
"Huh? Yeah, you're doing great. Of course I won't tell anyone."
"Of course," he said, glancing down at her again. "Anyway, my mum wants me to take over Malfoy Holdings when I graduate from Hogwarts. I'd be a glorified accountant. She's already enrolled me in the best school in Zurich. I'd start next fall. And I have no interest in doing that, obviously. But eventually I'll have to, now that Father is in…" He trailed off, sounding uncertain for the first time.
"...Azkaban," she finished softly.
Draco's hands stilled, the caramel forgotten. "Weasley," he said suddenly. "What he did to you... I'm sorry."
Ginny's eyes searched his face, taking in the hint of pink in his cheeks, his earnest expression. "Thank you," she said finally. "But it wasn't your fault. And it was a long time ago."
"Still," he said quietly, and she nodded, clearing her throat.
"So...what are you going to do? About your mum?"
Draco was silent for a moment, and she watched as his face relaxed into a smirk she knew well. But what he said nearly made her keel over.
"You've inspired me. I've been avoiding a conversation I know I need to have with Narcissa. When I go home next week I'm going to tell her that I'm dropping out of that accounting school and I'm playing Quidditch for the next few years. Eventually I'll step up and take over the holdings, but not until I've had a chance to do what I love doing."
"That's really great... But wait, I inspired you?" Ginny looked perplexed.
"Yes," the Slytherin said simply, and from this distance she could see the flecks of blue in his steel gray eyes. "You're very brave, Weasley. I know it's your lot's calling card, but still."
She smiled widely at that, and he actually smiled back. "Ginny," she said suddenly, aware of the melty feeling in her chest. "Call me Ginny."
"Ok Ginny," Draco said softly, their faces so close she could feel the warmth of his breath. Without having actually decided to, Ginny found herself bridging the distance between them until she was brushing his impossibly soft, warm lips with hers. He watched her in silence as she drew away briefly, and when their lips met again he drew her against him by the waist, her fingers threading through his soft golden hair as their tongues met and tangled. Her very discerning palate informed her he tasted like cider and caramel and Draco, and it was the most delicious thing she'd had yet.
xXx
Part 3: A primal roar, a new tradition.
The night of the bonfire came quickly, and the end of term with it. Ginny walked alongside Hermione amid throngs of Hogwarts students, snow crunching beneath their boots as they approached the dazzling roar of the end of year bonfire. Bright red and orange flames reached to the overcast sky, casting a fierce glow on all the faces gathered around it.
This was to be the beginning of a new tradition at Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall told them solemnly. "Here to remember those who were no longer with us, and to celebrate hope for what could be in the future."
As usual whenever something new happened, Ginny's thoughts went to her brother Fred, who was no longer here to see it. Her eyes became blurry with unshed tears as it sunk in that this would be her first Christmas without him. Hermione linked their arms together as Ginny wiped at her eyes.
The one thing Fred always did was live his life to the fullest, and she knew he'd want her to do the same. As the headmistress's speech concluded, Ginny felt a sense of peace wash over her, finally coming to terms with her decision to live life on her own terms rather than anyone else's. When the crowd cheered and a thunderous roar of victory, of life, rang out in the grounds, Ginny added her voice to the many thousands of others, feeling herself light and heady with a sense of earned freedom. As the screams and cheers died down, she finally caught a glimpse of a head of silvery golden hair in the crowd and her heart took off like a galloping stallion.
They'd barely had a chance to see each other in the past week, and she sometimes wondered if their stolen moments were just a dream. As if sensing her gaze Draco turned towards her and their eyes latched onto each other like a pair of magnets.
She watched as he approached her, taking in every detail of his appearance, from the fine bone structure and the uncharacteristic glow of his cheeks, to the stormy gray of his eyes. "Ginny Weasley," he said in greeting, as the fire raged at his back. "I seem to recall someone promised me a perfectly baked batch of Top Secret Treats, but they can't keep their hands off me long enough to make unburnt caramel."
"Is that so?" Ginny giggled as he drew her to him by the waist, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck. Snow began to fall in earnest, dotting Draco's fine lashes and his hair. "I guess we'll just have to keep trying until we succeed," she whispered to him.
For the first time in a long time she no longer felt afraid when she thought of the future, with all of its uncertainties and amazing possibilities. She'd also had enough practice fielding surprise and outrage from the public since she'd ended her relationship with Harry Potter and quit Quidditch, so she remained largely oblivious to the shocked expressions of Hermione and the whole of Hogwarts as she and Draco Malfoy held each other.
He seemed equally unconcerned. Smiling the most irresistible Malfoy smile, Draco leaned down and pressed his lips against her ear. "Unburnt caramel is overrated. Happy Christmas, love."
xXx
Jaden's Prompt: bonfire, cider, wager
Note: Ginny's Top Secret Treats are basically a kind of millionaire's shortbread. I thought it fitting since she's dating a Malfoy now *wink*. Also, I hope you enjoyed watching Ginny's systematic derailing of The Epilogue of Doom as much as I did. Merry Christmas, DG fam!