Author's Note: I wrote this ages ago when I'd been doing a bit too much cooking than is good for me - kinda gets into your head *grin* The characters may seem OOC but sorry, there you go. This takes place after Hogwarts and the three are living in a house together. It's not great but my brain is dead so you'll just have to cope : P. Part III of You Are Everything should be coming along soon *grin*.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K.Rowling and not me.
May I mention that that has to be the shortest disclaimer I've ever written!!!!! Anywhoozles - ON WITH THE SHOW!!!!!!!!!!
Stew is the Food of Love
by Purple Mango (a.k.a. najuk a.k.a. Trirarien)
"Eugh, God, I'm turning vegetarian!" squealed Hermione Granger, gingerly prodding a lump of raw meat with her carving knife.
"Relax Hermi, I do this stuff everyday," Ron said with a hint of laughter in his voice.
"Yeah, in case you hadn't noticed, you're a chef," Ron slapped his forehead sarcastically, leaving a white floury handprint there, "you're meant to be doing this stuff," Hermione continued, "Daily Prophet reporters aren't. This is disgusting."
Hermione jabbed at it with her knife, trying to pick the fat off.
"You're hopeless," Ron commented, looking up from his dish of flour and pork to glance at the clock on the wall, "Harry should be home now,"
"Nah uh, he's got some meeting I think, he won't be home for at least another hour."
"Oh yeah," Ron strode over to the cooker and twiddled the knobs (A/N: Shh, keeps your minds out of the gutter!) til he found the right heat for simmering the soup on the back burner.
"God, I hate this bloody meat," Hermione exclaimed, stabbing her knife down into the hated animal, cutting it clean in half.
"Hey! Calm down Hermi," Ron said, placing his hands on her shoulders and gentle massaging them. She closed her eyes and rolled her chestnut head back to rest it against Ron's shoulders, groaning in exasperation.
"Why is cooking so bloody stressful?"
"Cause you've got me as a sadistic head chef," Ron laughed, gently pushing Hermione back towards her chopping board.
"Now finish them and then flour them and I'll let you go,"
"Didn't you already flour one lot of meat?"
"How many times do I have to explain Hermi?" said Ron impatiently, "My stew is for tonight, your stew is for next week in Ireland."
"I know, I know," Hermione said reluctantly, taking up her knife again, "I can't believe it, Seamus and Lavender getting married, my bad, who'd -"
"They should have married two years ago, before Shane was born," Ron angrily interrupted.
"Oh, stop being so old fashioned Ron," Hermione argued, pointing her knife at him menacingly, "maybe they just didn't want to rush into anything."
"Rush in?!" Ron was indignant, "They've only been going out since they were sixteen, that's, er, seven years and you call it rushing in?!"
"Oh, I don't know Ron, just maybe they didn't want to, stop being so old fashioned."
Ron gave in easily, and quickly said,
"Well you try being brought up by mother. It's not my fault."
"Okay, okay, I know. Now what am I supposed to so with this?" Hermione asked, shoving her board of fat-stripped pork under Ron's nose.
"Put loads of flour in that dish," Ron explained, indicating the empty glass casserole lid and the tub of flour beside it, "then just tip all that pork in and cover it in flour."
"With my hands?" Hermione asked tentatively.
"No Hermi, with your feet," Ron answered sarcastically.
"Oh ha bloody ha, sorry for no being Little Miss Masterchef," she retaliated.
"Apology accepted, now get mixing!"
Hermione pulled a face behind Ron's back and turned back to put the flour in her dish, She patted the flour shaker diligently for five minutes until the dish was sufficiently covered,
"Now I out this in the flour?" she asked with a disgusted look at the board of meat.
"Sure thing."
Hermione grimaces as she picked up the slimy lumps and dropped them in the flour.
"Then what?"
"Just mix it in until the meat's completely covered."
Hermione pulled another face and started hesitantly to squidge the meat around the dish,
"Like this?"
Ron stepped across to peer over shoulder.
"Let me show you," he said, letting out a sigh of exasperation.
Hermione gladly took her hands from out of the gungy dish and Ron slipped his arms around her from behind and placed his hands where hers had been. Hermione flinched momentarily at the feeling of Ron's body so close to hers, but then she relaxed and just watched his tough hands gently working the flour into the meat.
"See?" he asked.
She nodded and put her hands back in the dish with the meat and Ron's hands. They worked in silence for a few minutes until Hermione suddenly found Ron's left hand on top of hers. She tensed quickly but he didn't let go, instead he tightened his grip. Hermione relaxed and let his finger interlace with hers so he was holding both of her hands. The meat lay half-floured and forgotten. Ron slowly stepped away and Hermione followed so they were standing in the middle of the small kitchen, he with his arms around her and she leaning back against his chest, resting her head against his shoulder.
"What are we doing?" Hermione murmured, fighting to keep her breathing even.
"I don't know," Ron whispered back, "you usually give me the answers," he said, with a half laugh.
"If neither of us know then we'll just have to guess," Hermione whispered, slowly turning to face Ron. He still kept his arms around her, holding her close, she reached up to place her hands around his neck, bringing his face closer, "and I'm guessing this is what comes next," she breathed before gently kissing Ron's lips.