Fiery Death

Summary: Harry comes home to a little surprise.

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. I'd be way richer if I did. I'd also have kids, which I don't.

Notes: This is a fic for Octune for our monthly Cookie Challenge, on GnH's cookie jar. This is what she asked for.

Keywords: tin can, mouse, ink

Dialogue: "You do realise this will inevitably end in a fiery death?"

Harry closed the door to the apartment and frowned. Something was off. Draco wasn't in the front hall hanging up his cloak as usual. There were loud crashes and muffled cursing coming from the kitchen. Harry looked up at the kitchen door. Something was definitely off.

He walked towards the door and entered the kitchen. There was a particularly loud crash as he closed the door.

"Jesus, Mary Mother of God."

Harry chuckled and bent down to pick up the tin can that was rolling across the floor. The unidentifiable sauce inside had spilt across the white tiles like black ink on fresh parchment.

"You know," he said, straightening and looking at Draco, "Mary wasn't exactly God's mother."

"Oh, sod off," Draco said.

He turned back to the counter without another glance at Harry. Harry walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist.

"What are you doing?" he asked, amusement evident in his voice.

"Obviously, I'm making dinner."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "What exactly are you making?"

Draco looked down at the ingredients as if he didn't know the answer himself. Then, he sniffed with all his usual superiority.

"You'll just have to wait and see if you can't tell for yourself."

Harry smiled and kissed Draco's cheek. "If you say so."

"Well, I do."

Draco stirred something in a saucepan and Harry moved over to the kitchen table. After a few moments, Draco moved to put the saucepan on the stove. For a few seconds, it looked as though he didn't know how to turn it on, but he recovered himself and soon had little flames burning away under the pan. He turned to Harry with a smug look.

Harry smiled and said, "You do realize this will inevitably end in a fiery death?"

"Ha bloody ha. I'm not that bad."

"Just try not to burn down my kitchen, alright?"

"Of course, I won't."

Draco turned back to the saucepan and gave the contents a vigorous stir. Harry saw one of the flames flick higher and started to warn Draco.

"Don't -"

Too late. The saucepan's contents burst into flames and Draco made a mouse-like 'eep' noise. Before Harry could warn him otherwise, he poured cold water onto the flames.

As Harry could have told him, the water only caused the oil fire to get worse. Draco gave another 'eep' and dashed behind Harry.

With a quick wave of his wand, the flames went out and Harry turned to the panicked wizard behind him.

"It's okay, Draco. No one's hurt. Except the saucepan, but I wanted a new one anyway."

He surveyed the kitchen to give Draco a chance to compose himself. Another flick of his wand cleaned the black sauce off the floor. When he turned back, Draco was as calm and superior as ever.

"Well, looks like it's take out tonight," Harry said.

Draco sighed almost imperceptibly and went to get the phone.

Several phone calls and a spring roll later, Harry asked the question that had been plaguing him.

"Why were you cooking anyways?"

Draco looked down at his sweet and sour pork with an embarrassed, yet grim look on his face.

"No reason. I just felt like it."

Harry shook his head.

"But you got home early. You must have planned for that. You never get home early."

Draco fiddled with his chopsticks before answering.

"Fine. I just wanted to do something special for you, that's all."

"Why? What's the occasion?"

Harry was surprised. Draco had never shown an inclination to celebrate anniversaries or anything in the five years they'd been together.

"Well, it's just that... five years ago today was... sort of the day I joined the Order. More specifically, the day I joined the Order for you. It was a major turning point in my life and I wanted to make you dinner to show how much you mean to me and how much you changed my life. For the better."

This whole speech was directed to Draco's pork, but Harry's second spring roll fell from him fingers anyway.

"That was," he said in a slow and trance-like voice, "the single most romantic thing I have ever heard anyone say."

Draco simply shrugged. "Well, I try."

Harry tossed aside his Chinese and practically mauled Draco. Noodles flew everywhere and Draco ended up pinned under Harry.

"You know," Harry said, smirking seductively, "if you wanted to show me how much you appreciate me, I can think of a lot of ways that don't involve burning the apartment down. Or fire in any sense, for that matter."

Draco smirked too. "Is there food involved?"

"Maybe."

"Other than scattered Chinese food, I mean."

Harry leaned in close to Draco's ear.

"Do the words 'chocolate body paint' mean anything to you?"

Draco practically jumped in excitement.

"I say, let's go to the bedroom and I'll show you how much I appreciate you."

Harry laughed. "I think that can be arranged."