Draco Malfoy had made pasta with tomato sauce. It was about all he was capable of cooking (courtesy of bribing the house elves to teach him. He'd consented to deliberately mussing various bedrooms, so that they'd have more to clean. House elves in his household were nearly all bored, all the time.). Still, when you're cooking for over a dozen children, most of them growing - suffice it to say that Draco made a lot.
Luna came in, a streak of dirt on her forehead, a splash of mud on her white dress, her nails lined with what looked like mud, but might be shite. The children, far more weary - city lads and lasses, not used to a good hard day's work.
The food seemed to perk them up more than Draco would have imagined, but as they sat, Draco stood. "Before you eat, I'd like to introduce you to a few concepts. Today you've learned what it's like to get filthy, work a hard day's manual labor, and tend animals. Remember this. If you are in Herbology, it is a place that feels more normal, more natural than the entire rest of Hogwarts."
A tiny Ravenclaw raised her hand, "But what if I'm not good at Herbology?"
Draco smiled thinly, "You needn't be good, but if you aren't, have the humility to act embarrassed." Draco adopted an aw shucks manner, dragging his toe through the dirt, blushing slightly, before looking up, "Never was much good at this. Took me twice as much time as me da." Draco, looking up, picked out the few children taking note more of the deception than the content.
Luna spoke next, "You aren't coddled little city kids."
Draco continued, "That's right. Dirt and sweat and the smells of animals are your home. They feel right to you. If you're a little awkward at Hogwarts, use that to explain it."
Colin raised his hand, speaking, "It's funny you teaching us this, Mister Draco. You always seemed like the starched proper type."
Draco paused, collecting his thoughts, "At Hogwarts? Of course I was. That's public there, and it reflects badly upon my father if his son is unkempt or dirty." Draco smiled a faint, but honest smile, "Pansy could tell you that when I was eight, I slept more in the kennels than in my own bedroom."
Luna looked a question at him.
"My father had gotten me a puppy, but it was often sick. I'd spend time with it in the kennels, and fall asleep. My mother used to complain that I'd arrive for breakfast smelling of dog." Draco's grey eyes watched the children soften at the story. All it took to look sympathetic was showing some caring towards a poor widdle animal.
[a/n: Now, the money question: Was Draco telling the truth? I haven't forgotten that these kids are up for adoption, they just need a firm foundation first.
Huckleberry Finn's presence is entirely due to my inability to call up a picture of British farmers at a moment's notice. They definitely wear different hats. Did you google too?]