Hello World! This little story came up because I love this pairing and I wanted to write fluff for them.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, it belongs to J. K Rowling
Ginny knew that Draco had a privileged life very different from her own and that all things considered the blond boy probably had experienced far more things than her in his rather short life –not counting of course the war that had almost killed them both and having to gather the courage to turn on everything he'd ever known-, but there was a fact about her husband's childhood that she couldn't quite wrap her mind around, even after all the time they met.
Draco never had a meal that wasn't prepared by the elves working under the direct orders of his parents or the ones working at Hogwarts. Simply put, the richest boy she knew never had enjoyed one of the simplest, most inexpensive things one could enjoy in one's life: a meal made with love only for him.
Now, not that Ginny Weasley had enjoyed many meals cooked by her mum for her exclusively all that often or anyone really, she was, after all, the last born to a family with six other brothers and that meant that she was the last one in a very long line of people demanding to get attention from mum and dad. That didn't mean that she hadn't got any attention, far from it actually, and as the daughter of the woman who practically invented the term homemade, she wasn't able to imagine a mother that wouldn't shower her children –or child- with an assortment of baked goods and drool inducing warm meals every so often. It seemed sad, really, horribly sad when she considered that the boy in front of her couldn't have possibly wanted for anything and yet lacked something that she got so easily every day.
It made her remember what made her change her opinions of him. She saw the lonely boy, the boy who had his whole world turned around on its axis, the boy who tried to redeem himself after he found so very suddenly that mum and dad were not what they made themselves to be, that the things he believed were not true. She saw the man who tried to be better every day, despite everything in his past holding him down and she couldn't help but love him.
"I don't see the big deal! "Draco said, looking from her determined face to the ingredients with alarm. "You don't need to cook anything for me, really. "
"I might not need to do so, but I want to. "She answered with a determined frown of her own. Seeing that, Draco slumped, his lips turning up into the sneer that had made him so famous during Hogwarts and she smiled, knowing that it meant that he was giving up.
"My mother says I shouldn't entertain stupidity. "He added his pale eyebrows quirking into a tight scowl that she found rather funny despite the foreboding look it gave to his handsome features.
"This is not stupid. "
"Of course it is; why would you want to lift a finger when I have hundreds of elves I can call with the snap of a finger to do things for you? Wouldn't it affect your pregnancy or…? "He trailed off then, a hint of concern made it into his gray eyes then and she smiled at him, touched to see the normally cold boy expressing such a thing so freely for her. Still…
"Because I want to cook for my husband and no, Draco, Merlin's Balls, I'm cooking, not trying to defeat You-Know-Who. Now, sit and wait for me to be done with my masterpiece. "Normally, she wouldn't have answered like that to him –because, let's face it, she had little to no provocation.- but she suspected that it was a mix of pregnancy hormones and her temper acting up, making her a bit –okay, maybe a lot- bossier and a tiny tad irritable. Oh well.
She was tempted to laugh as she watched her husband awkwardly sit on one of the ridiculously expensive chairs, his gray eyes watching her every move like a cat watching its prey. Under his watchful eyes, she mixed the ingredients for the cheesecake she knew he loved almost as much as her and quickly enough set it to bake, knowing that the warm treat would be perfect for them both in this rainy weather and then sat with him to wait for the timer to sound.
Once the cake was ready, she took it out of oven and set it on the table, cutting two big slices for them both.
"Go ahead, have a bite. "She encouraged when it seemed that he wasn't going to eat it himself. She sighed in exasperation. "Draco, I am counting to three."
"What am I now, your kid? How do I know you put all the correct things in there? What if it is bad, or worse, what if it kills me? "He shuddered for effect, his wide eyes finding hers and she gave a soft snort.
"Stop being such a drama queen and eat. If I wanted to kill you, you would have been dead by now. "
"That's so comforting. "He said with sarcasm, but nonetheless did reach out for the cake, taking a generous bite of it. His eyes closed and an involuntary sound of pleasure was torn from his throat. He swallowed and immediately reached out with renewed gusto. "It tastes different. "He remarked, once again closing his eyes while a smile drew itself on his pale lips. "It tastes sweeter… and better, somehow."
She smiled lovingly at him.
"That's the taste of home, love. "
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This story was written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Careers Advice: Holiday Careers Task 1, seasonal challenge Autumuse the dialogue: "My mother says I should not entertain stupidity"