"I don't understand why you find them so intriguing," Harry managed with a level voice. If it were anyone else, he would have immediately burst into laughter, but the threat of a spectacular itching hex did wonders for his self-control. He shut his eyes and took several deep breaths as Draco continued to examine the fruit.
"I told you last time you brought them home, I'd never seen them like this. Only sliced. Mother probably thought they were too vulgar whole. And with good reason." Draco peered at the item in his hand, poking it as though he expected a reaction.
Harry snorted, but quickly masked it as a sneeze. "Well, I think we can rule out the color…"
"Don't even joke," Draco shuddered. He turned it over in his hands again, checking the peel. "Why isn't this one spotted?"
"It's not ripe enough for spots. Give it a few days."
"And then you'll make another of those loaves?" Draco asked, aiming for nonchalant. He had rather enjoyed the last one.
"I could," Harry started. "Or we could have pancakes. Or a pudding. French toast. Cheesecake. Could make loads of things with it, really."
The itch in Draco's sweet tooth grew with Harry's list. He mastered his rising excitement before saying, "I'd like to try that pudding. Is it the kind that has crunchy bits?"
"Yes, we can make the kind with crunchy bits," Harry answered, the beginnings of a smile on his face.
"It's decided, then," Draco said before putting the fruit down. "Bed?"
"Bed." Harry sighed before heaving himself off the sofa.
Draco turned and was halfway up the stairs when he heard Harry ask with a wicked lilt, "Why did you think these were vulgar?"