Cooking and crackers

Disclaimer: I confess! It's mine! I did it! I wrote it ALL! ALL I TELL YOU! AHAHAHAHAHAHA... MIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!

St. Mungo's hospital for magical maladies would like to state that the above disclaimer is fictitious, and the author has been taken away for proper treatment.

Author's note: I read number five, finally. Well, I must say I have mixed feelings on it *sniffs* it's not BAD, but, by the Gods, I want to strangle Harry… Since when did he become a whining little prat? Oh… hang on… 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

"Hold still…"

Mrs. Weasley held his thin wrist tightly, wrapping a small bandage soaked in Salamander oil around it. Draco winced again as she pulled it tight

"Bill- Didn't I tell you to watch them? Didn't I tell you to show them how it was done?" She scolded, sealing the bandage with a wave of her wand "There you go dear." She said to Draco, patting him gingerly on the arm, and beckoning Hermione over. "All better, it should only take a day or two to heal…"

Draco slumped down in a chair and watched Mrs. Weasley bandage Hermione sulkily. The little Jack Frost's they had been clearing out of the garden had been far more vicious then any of them had thought. They had struggled, squealed and bit. Their sharp little teeth left tiny puncture wounds almost unnoticeable. However, they had venom that slowly froze your hand.

"Frost bite, Bill…." Mrs. Weasley took up her scolding again "You let them all get frost bite…" She sealed Hermione's bandage with a flick of her wand and turned to her casually lounging son like an angry wolverine "You should have been watching them! But what were you doing instead? Sitting back writing letters to your friends in Egypt! It wouldn't've taken TOO much time for you to drag yourself from your personal correspondence to keep a good eye on them, would it?"

Bill was nodding occasionally, absently whittling at a potato, the peelings dropping into the bowl. He was lounged sideways on the seat, one leg over the arm. Occasionally he made a sort of grunted affirmation.

Draco glared about the room, tuning off the scolding. His hand was freezing, but he Salamander oil was slowly taking that away. His best compensation was that both Harry and Hermione had ALSO gotten bitten.

That thought brought him back to the present. He looked around at them. Harry was studying a clock on the wall with little pictures on the hands, stating where each Weasley was.  Draco's family had one of them, but it had a few extra words people like the Weasley's'd never have. At least, the one hidden in his father's study did. "At the Dark Lord's side" situated where twelve would be, and others like "Highly important meeting". Draco scowled a little. Ron's hand was clearly sitting on the word "Visiting". As if his family would EVER welcome that freckle faced little mudblood loving fool.

He looked away sharply when Harry turned to face him, annoyed with himself for staring. 
He felt eyes on him and turned to face Hermione, who was watching him with a strangely intent expression, it made him nervous, for some reason.

"What?' He asked petulantly

"Nothing" She replied, just as petulantly

He let it drop, looking away from her and around the kitchen instead. The rest of the Weasleys, bar the twins, were helping make Christmas dinner. Mrs. Weasley hadn't felt it safe, to let her twin miscreant sons near the food. He watched them for a full minute, wondering how they ever got on without servants before Mrs. Weasley, evidently finished her tirade against Bill, clapped her hands together, bringing all the attention back to her

"Alright kiddies…" Draco flared at the word 'kiddies' "frosty hands or no, you're all going to give us a hand in the kitchen. With all the fiasco of our- spontaneous guest…"
"I never PLANNED to come here, I assure you…" Draco snapped. Mrs. Weasley glared him silent 

"As I was saying, with all the fiasco this morning, I haven't been able to do as much as I usually do for Christmas dinner. So I need a hand- well, I need as many hands as I can get."

Hermione and Harry nodded, getting to their feet. Draco remained stony and seated

"Harry dear, would you go over to the bench over there and you'll find some mini pie bottoms and a bowl of fruit mince. Spoon a little bit in the pastry, cut a circle with this cutter and seal the top of each mince pie. Jab it with a fork in the top, as well dear…"
She handed him a crinkly edged cutter, and ushered him to the pies.

"Hermione, I'm sure you know how to peel and cut vegetables?"

"Yes Mrs. Weasley, I have just the charm for that…" She replied taking a breath, obviously about to tell them all what it was. Draco rolled his eyes, but Mrs. Weasley cut in.

"Excellent dear. They're over there on the chopping board and the knives are in the draw, just pop them in that square pan when you're finished, okay, dear?"
Hermione nodded, and scurried over tot eh draw, taking out a knife and carefully going to the vegetables.
"And Draco dear, you can help me make the stuffing…"

He was a little panicked. Him? Cook? He'd never touched a pot or pan in his life. He wouldn't know where to start.
"I'm not cooking…" he said a little defiantly

"Of course you're not dear; I don't expect you've had much practice, that's why you're helping me…." She said firmly. He bristled a bit

"What do you mean, 'haven't had…'"

"Well, I've never thought your family, in that big house of yours, would do their own cooking…" There was something peculiar in her voice… disapproval? "Didn't you have a house elf for awhile dear?"
His eyes burned and he shot a filthy look at Harry, who looked up at him without a changed expression, eyes challenging.

"For awhile yes…" he grated, about to elaborate, but Mrs. Weasley, sensing danger, stepped in and dragged him towards a big bowl

"Now where do we start?" She asked, pointing her wand to the pantry. He ducked several different flying ingredients, looking at the big bowl in chagrin. His day was getting worse and worse….

It didn't turn out half as bad as he expected. He finished the stuffing and had moved on to cutting a little salad. Mrs. Weasley had drawn him out with many questions, and after finding out his best subject was potions, she set him on making sauces, which were all quite successful.

"Excellent… excellent!" she said, looking at the last pot of butterscotch sauce he had just finished. "I think you can all go sit down now- I can finish up. I think Arthur's put out some crackers, so go play with them. I'll call you all when it's ready…"

He was somewhat pleased with himself for the sauces. It took him a full minute and a half to tell himself that he really shouldn't be, it was only stupid sauce.

He flopped into a nearby seat, glancing at the clock that told the time, on the opposite wall to the family whereabouts clock. Eleven. His family would be arriving about now. He wondered how Ron would cope with his extended family…

His reverie was cut short by Ginny Weasley, who shook the end of a cracker at him. He looked faintly surprised, not thinking that anyone'd want anything to do with him (which suited him fine, mind you…) and true, Ginny looked slightly pained. He took hold of one end and tugged, still a little bemused. A huge cannon shot and a plume of blue smoke. Thankfully Ginny had gotten the bigger end, with a large, floppy Rasta hat and a little silvery trumpet that made different animal noises when you blew it, and emitted multi coloured bubbles. 

He sank back in his chair, wishing he could sit outside or something.
"So, Draco…" It was one of the older Weasleys. He couldn't remember his name. He was thick set and had freckles so close together it was almost a tan "I hear your Dad works for the Ministry."

Draco nodded, not really wanting to be brought into conversation.

"Yeah, hear Dad talking about him a lot. Lucius Malfoy, isn't it?"
Draco nodded again, wondering darkly what Mr. Weasley had said.

"Yeah, heard a lot about him. Didn't he used to be a school Governor?"

Draco really didn't like the way the conversation was going
"Got kicked out for blackmail or something" One of the twins piped up, wearing a rather peculiar neon green and orange tam-o-shanter with a purple bobble. "Threatening the other governors, trying to get them to chuck Dumbledore out..."

"Yeah, wasn't it your Dad that gave Ginny that diary that turned her into some raving loony that set that dirty great snake on people?" The other twin asked, grinning.  Ginny stopped blowing her animal noise trumpet.   

"And didn't he get attacked by Dobby the nutty house elf after? When he tried to attack Harry for setting Dobby free?" The Tam-O-Shanter'd twin laughed gleefully. Draco's face felt hot, his fists were clenched.

"Oh that's right George…" The bare headed twin continued "Didn't he also embarrass himself majorly when the Hippogriff he was trying to get killed escaped under his nose?"

"The one that mauled you, cause you're too much of an upper-class little snot to bother listening to instructions?" George laughed, falling back in his chair. Draco's hands clenched about the arms of his chair, grinding his teeth in irritation.

"yeah, and wasn't he…"
Draco leapt up and grabbed Fred's collar, drawing back his fist to punch him
"don't you DARE insult my father!" He yelled, furious. A heavy pair of hands grabbed him and wrenched him back, no matter how hard he fought.

Mrs. Weasley stormed into the room wearing a floral apron and a scowl, carrying a dripping wooden spoon

"What's all this?" She said, her voice shrill.
"THEY'RE INSULTING MY FATHER!" He yelled, still trying to have a go at the sniggering twins.

"Well really, Fred, George! WHAT did your father tell you! You're NOT to annoy young Draco here! It's enough of a shock that he has to spend Christmas here in the first place…"

"You can't blame him for being so touchy about his family, I suppose…" George conceded, looking serious. A little TOO serious. "I mean, LOOK at them… I'D be cranky all the time if I had a father like THAT vile, snobby, arrogant b…"
"GEROGE!" Mrs. Weasly shrieked, as Draco snarled and tried to break the grip holding him back again. He felt someone else's hands join the ones already holding him back. Mrs. Weasly took a few deep breaths.
"Your dinner's ready. All of you. Get in there. And if I hear that you've been teasing young Malfoy AGAIN, Fred, George, you won't know what hit you. Now- I've set up some tables outside, and put a hothouse bubble over them to keep off the snow. It might get a little humid, but it was the best I could do. Now outside."
She pointed outside with her spoon, and the twins scurried outside, shooting amused looks that the still fuming Draco.

Bill and Charlie let him go slowly, as Harry and Hermione, both looking also amused passed.
He stomped outside, wanting to break something. They better get onto his family soon… the sooner he was out of here, the better.