Hello readers! Yes, I'm not dead, I've just been really busy lately...but I have treated you with a Christmas Special ;) aha. This will be only a quick one, seeing as I really want to get this done before the Holidays are over, so it really will be a Christmas Special. More Destinys Descent is coming in January, as well as Close your Eyes. Thank you so much for your support and I hope you enjoy the first chapter! - Sealed with a Kiss
~For the Love of Lille~
"Two sprigs of thyme to one pint of chicken stock"
"Right...yes...two...two sprigs..."
" ...And five pink peppercorns, whole"
"...five...whole..."
"And a spritz of- no, no Draco watch out you're going to scald yourself!"
Draco averted his wide eyes to the angry pot of bubbling soup, leaking its juices between the cracks of the lid and falling down to the amber fire below. He grabbed the nearest tea towel from his iron hooks and grabbed the handle to place the turquoise stained pot to one side.
Draco couldn't even remember how long he had been in his kitchen, but he had a feeling it had been over six hours as the sky had changed from a milky white to a scarlet red, which matched the complexion of his cheeks.
His miniature kitchen was covered with splatters of stock and gravy, dying the once turquoise walls a murky brown colour. The food covered the beautiful white framed pictures of people who were once smiling because of the beautiful smell, but now frowning as they can't see over a thick splatter of gravy.
"Alright, I think it's time for you to take a break-"
"I can't Jean; I don't have enough time as it is so-"
"Look, you know if you don't calm down your surrogate Mother Hen will come down and-"
"I smell BURNING!"
As soon as the words fled Jeans mouth, sure enough the plump red headed lady stood by the cottage door, freckled hands resting on his hips which were covered by a frilly brown apron.
Molly Weasley had been there for Draco ever since she found him roaming the streets mindlessly looking for a place to stay. Draco never thought he would see Molly as anything but the freckly baby machine who spits out annoying red heads such as that Ron Weasley, but now couldn't imagine how his life would be like if it wasn't for her mothering self.
She waddled over to the stove, and took one look at the state of Draco's once stunning kitchen and looked at her almost adopted son. He rested one ivory hand at the nape of his neck, the other resting awkwardly on his once brilliantly blue cashmere cardigan. His eyes lacked the usual grey and blue shine, but instead were dull and strained. The steam for the various cooking pots made his platinum blonde hair stick to his forehead, and the tips of his exposed ears went bright red.
"The Dragon's stressing out again" Jean stated, ruffling the black curls that rested on his rounded head.
"Oh dear Draco, "she said in her gentle voice, turning off the stove with a flick of her wand, "how many courses are you cooking?"
"urm...eight" He replied, rubbing his temple softly with wrist. He was expecting a good 'telling off' session by the firm red head, but instead grabbed the sides of his warmed face and looked into his eyes and tilted her head so her bushy hair rested on her shoulder.
It had been seven years since Draco decided to flock his secure nest at the Malfoy Manor and decided to start an adventure of his own. Being the naive 18 year old he was, he didn't realise how hard this would be for him, especially being brought up in a world surrounding money and power, and having no clue of what the ' Real World' would be like.
The powering smells of stale alcohol and smoke mixed with the earthy taste of the pelting rain didn't put off a Slytherin kissed Draco from going through the infamous KnockTurn Alley. Cackles from insane witches were so loud he hardly could hear the distressed bellowing of Molly Weasley calling after him, while risking her own life by running through the alley herself.
He even remembers clearly the first time he went to The Burrow. He remembers walking through the fields of wheat and the loud fluttering of the many chickens surrounding the tall wooden house. Sure, the house was small and lacked any expensive sculptures, of the sense of warmth and love which came from that house was unreal. Mr Weasley carried his suitcases upstairs and plonked them on Ron's bed, while Mrs Weasley sat him down in the knick knack packed sitting room and forced him to eat a beef casserole, and felt the odd need to tell her absolutely everything that had been bothering him.
After about a year of living with Molly and Arthur, who taught him life lessons the Gryffindor way which oddly tamed his Slytherin snake, realised that all the things he had learnt in life were holding him back and not allowing him to grow- especially his fear of Half Bloods. So, he decided to follow his dreams of becoming a chef and moved to Lille in France, in a small half-blood populated village. He figured that since his fear and hatred of half-bloods began by the teachings of his father, who is simply evil, he decided the only way to get over this fear was to live in a town full of them.
"Well there's your problem then!" Molly took the tea towel from Draco's shoulder and began to wipe the many spillages until the counter tops were gleaming, "all you have to do is reduce the number of courses!"
Draco walked over to his wooden table and rested on the back of one of the chairs," It's not as simple as that Molly- It's important that I do as many as I can to show off my excellence"
"Excellence..."
"Taire Jean, you know exactly what I mean" He took off his apron, " The food inspector is going to show up this time I know it, and Tomas's place has already been threatened to be shut down, just because he almost choked on a chestnut"
Jean let out a roar of laughter, and had to rest his tanned hand on his red jumper covered chest to steady it.
"I know Jean, totally the prats fault; I mean how is it a chef's fault if someone can't chew their food properly?"
"Well, I'll tell you what dear," Molly walked over to the blonde and popped one arm over his bony shoulders," I'll help you cook this year so-"
"No, Molly, I've told you time and time again, I cannot put that sort of stress on to you-"
"Let me finish!" She said softly, smiling as wide as a chesire cat, "I will help you this year my love, because you deserve all the help you can get, especially if Mr Food Snob will be popping round for a nosey visit. Besides, I'm used to stress, you don't become the mother of Fred and George without encountering mind boggling stress!"
"You're an angel, Mols" He rested his head on her meaty shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of pastry and dried cranberries.
"And besides, it's nearly Christmas! It's the time of giving, a la de la..."
Not as if it was anything out of the ordinary, Molly was dancing around the kitchen, waving the tea towel in one hand and summoning the two tired French boys over to the living room to let off some steam.
Even though he finds it hard to admit out loud, Draco was so grateful to have such a wonderful woman in his life. The endless amounts of times that woman made him smile was unreal; from popping through the oak fireplace in his study room for a catch up with biscuits, sending him letters from The Burrow, or how he walks in his house from work and finds his favourite cherry pie on the top of his table with a note saying " Don't eat it all at once". But now, dancing around with old Christmas music playing in Draco's cook book covered living room just made him love her even more. But if one thing was for sure, he hadn't smiled like that since the days at Hogwarts...
"Look at the state of this room! Where's the Christmas spirit?" The red head dragged a finger over the half melted candle covered fire place. Draco opened his mouth, but wasn't able to finish it before the room was covered with silver tinsel, flashing fairy lit lights, chestnuts, candles and holly in bowls on the fireplace and the table, and, of course, a plate full of orange and cranberry spiced cookies.
"Molly!" Draco said, gazing at the room in total awe, "I hope you didn't spend a lot on this!"
Molly simply shook her head and passed a cookie to Jean, whether he wanted one or not, "Don't you worry about that my dear, this can be my gift to you"
"But you're already helping me with the cooking, I couldn't possibly-"
"If Draco doesn't want them, I'll have all of this in a heartbeat" Jean called, munching on his cookie.
The many clocks in his newly decorated room started to chime louder, and Draco knew what this meant.
"Ah, It's almost 7" Jean raced to the coat stand and grabbed his black jacket and gloves, "The carrots aren't going to peel themselves"
While Molly was busy rearranging the decorations, Draco walked his favourite work employee to his holly covered door.
"Thank you so much for today, I really needed the help" Draco said honestly, holding his scarf in his hands while Jean rearranged his collar and put on his gloves.
"No problem Boss" Jean winked, flashing the Dragon one of his prized left sided smiles, "Please get some rest tonight, I can't be dealing with a stressed out Draco tomorrow, we have too much planning to do"
Draco chuckled deep in his throat, "I don't think the Mother Hen would allow me to be anyways"
"Good Point", Jean looked at his red scarf in Draco's hands, signalling him to get it to him, but instead placed it over his curly head himself.
"Au Revoir Draco" Jean said softly, placing a kiss on his cheek, his goatee tickling his skin.
"Au Revoir" Draco smiled, opening his door and watching his prized chef leave the blue picket gate.
He couldn't think of a better person to work in his restaurant 'Rivière' by the river. As soon as the handsome man entered his little restaurant, he knew Jean would be the one. He was strong, kind, reliable, and always knew how to make Draco and the rest of the team laugh. Sandra, the flirty hostess, would always hint that he should go for Jean. He was absolutely stunning in all ways; He stood at six feet tall, with broad shoulders that suited his strong frame. A pair of dark mahogany eyes fell upon a tanned face, and lips were emphasised by a goatee resting on a chiselled jaw. But it didn't matter how many times he made Draco laugh to tears, or how many times he helped him out in situations over the years; Jean just wasn't for him. He couldn't think why, he was literally perfect, but something deep in his heart always told him that there was someone else he needed; he wanted.
But it was rediculous to think of people from his past.
Totally, Rediculous.
