THC/The Houses Competition.

House: Ravenclaw

Class: History of Magic

Prompts: [Action] Learning to make fudge

Drabble

Word Count: 1,017

Word Count Without A/N: 986

The Secret Ingredient

"Hey, Gin, what's up?" Ron called out, coming down the stairs of the Burrow with Harry.

"Hush up," Ginny let out an irritated whisper, peering around the doorway and scowled into the kitchen.

"What? Why? Who's in the kitchen?" Ron paled.

"It's Fleur." Ginny sneered, "She's making fudge."

"You are just going to stand there and spy on her?" Harry asked.

"Yes." Ginny nodded diligently.

"Seriously, what have you got against her?" Ron shrugged. "She's nice. She's marrying Bill. She's making fudge!"

"I wouldn't expect you to get it," Ginny grumbled. Ron was the lovesick leader of the Fleur parade after all, "Harry doesn't like her either, right?"

"I…" Harry floundered hearing his name enter the conversation. Ginny's heart sank an inch that he didn't immediately agree.

"Whatever, Gin, suit yourself." Ron shook his empty ginger head and pushed past Ginny. Harry trailed behind him, averting his eye from Ginny. "Hi, Fleur!"

"Ah, 'allo, Ronald, 'arry." Fleur turned from her mixing bowl and greeted them with a toothy smile. "Hi, Ginny." She added as an afterthought.

"Cooking?" Ron asked loudly.

"Oui, I am learning how to make fudge, it eez Bill's favorite," She said, extravagantly flicking her wand to summon a cookbook from the counter for display. Ginny frowned, scrutinizing the book. When she makes fudge for her brothers she doesn't need a recipe.

"Yeah, that's right," Ron nodded along. "I'm more partial to brownies, Harry's mad for treacle tart-"

"She's not taking requests, Ron." Ginny snipped, knotting her arms tight over her chest. Ron's ears began to glow.

"Actually, I could use your help." The lithe blonde witch paid no mind to Ginny.

"Oh, you need a couple of taste testers?" Ron's eyes brightened at the prospect of licking a spoon clean, "Of course, Ginny would be the best critic. She's got her own recipe that's pretty good, even has some secret ingredient."

"Oh, really?" Fleur remarked, snidely wiping her hands on her apron. Ginny flushed under her judgement.

"Well, it's not like I'd ever tell what it is," Ginny said, feeling foolish and juvenile.

"It would be wasted on me, I am steell beginning." Fleur waved a bashful hand, "No, Ron, I was 'oping you might go on a queek errand for me?" She turned on her Veela charms and batted her eyes at the boys; Ginny knew because she gagged slightly. "Would you mind going into town for some vanilla?"

"Sure, I know the town alright, and Harry, you can make sense of the muggle money, yeah?" Ron clapped his friend on the back.

"I'll get my cloak!" Ginny chirped, looking forward to a walk in the snow with Harry.

"Ginny, you always slow us up." Ron whinged, "Maybe you could stay and show Fleur some tips."

"I…" Ginny stuttered, searching for help from Harry, but he sheepishly looked away, "Sure." She slouched in defeat. Maybe Hermione was wrong about this seeing other people business; Harry was only pulling away from her.

Ron grabbed a jar with a collection of muggle coins their father had collected over the years, and Harry picked out the useful ones. They bid the girls goodbye before trudging into the winter snowscape.

Mood entirely soured, Ginny shuffled over to the cooking space and surveyed ingredients. Resolved, she picked up a knife and began chopping the chocolate into smaller chunks for melting. Minutes passed between them in silence.

"You don't like me," Fleur stated.

Ginny looked up from the chopping block, agog. She knew she hadn't hid her feelings all that well, but she had also expected Fleur to be too polite to say anything.

"I just cannot reckon why." Fleur continued quietly, stirring melted sugar into a pan.

"It's not just a matter of liking," Ginny said, plucking up her courage to speak her mind, "I can't trust you."

"Ok…" Fleur let out a knowing sigh before confessing, "My english is better zhan I let on."

"What?" Ginny furrowed her brow, "No, I can't trust you be-because of the way you manipulate people. I see the way Ron goes all goofy around you."

"Ah, you zhink because I am part Veela, I am responsible for your brother's actions?" Fleur's cheeks flushed with a rare blotch of frustration. Hearing it out loud it did sound more despicable than Ginny had first thought, "Yees, I am beautiful. I am very beautiful. But I am not some creature in your school books zhat enjoys preying on mens' foolishness. And for zhat matter, neither are full-blooded Veelas. Wizards exaggerate our gifts beyond reason rather than take responsibility for the way zhey disrespect us." Fleur scowled into her pot of burning sugar. She began scouring the pot to start over. " 'Ave you ever thought to ask someone with Veela blood about our powers?"

"I..." Ginny thought about the time Ron had asked Fleur to the Yule Ball. Harry had stated so simply that it was Fleur's heritage that had affected him so much, and she had never thought twice about it. "I suppose I'm asking now…"

"Moreover," Fleur continued to fume, "What do you think I am doing to Beell? If you think I am manipulating 'im, why would I agree to marry 'im?" Her eyes narrowed on Ginny, "What kind of person would lure a man into a relationship without honestly returning those feelings?"

"Right...erm. That would be bad." Ginny admitted, and pulled her sleeve down over the charm bracelet that she had received from Dean for Christmas. Fleur pouted and went back to work heating the sugar in a copper pot.

Fleur huffed and flipped the page of her recipe book.

"It's love…" Ginny murmured.

Fleur glanced over tentatively. "What?"

With a scarlet patch blooming across her nose, Ginny explained, "When I make fudge...my secret ingredient...it's love."

Fleur paused to consider this peace offering.

"Zhen, we weell be sure to use plenty of it in this new batch."