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He had indulged, eating more than he'd thought possible. Harry had started him off on a creamy wild garlic and nettle soup that felt warm in his belly. When the bowl had been in front of him white wisps had etched themselves on the air, stretching out to caress his nostrils. It had been mossy green, with islands of orange floating through the broth. A handsome fish dish had followed. Harry had laid a silver platter in front of him on top of which sat a fleshy pink strip of trout, garnished with dashings of green herbs that he didn't know, but liked the taste of. The fish course was supplemented by a side plate of mussels. Their black shells lay open, the beige insides spilling out…absolutely enticing. He had never eaten them before, mainly because he thought that they felt horrible on his tongue, slippery and nasty, but today when Harry had urged him on and he had sampled one, he came to realize that they tasted pleasantly of the ocean without an overwhelming aroma of fish.
After the seafood dishes had been cleared away, Harry had returned from the kitchen with the main meal and served him cuts of the pork with a refreshing apple sauce, easing the perfectly cooked meat down. It had been accompanied by potatoes that were diced up in a bowl with carrots, mushrooms and zucchini topped off with a healthy dash of pepper that stung the throat in the most pleasurable way. Then after the pork, had come the dessert, Harry had smiled as he had placed a slice of a cherry torte on the table in front of him. The pastry had been light, both in texture and colour, with a thick dark brown crust, all of which contrasted with the beautiful cherry red sauce that poured out of it. The torte was topped by a thin layer of icing sugar as white as snow, but as sharp as salt. In short, the meal had been pure ambrosia.
He looked at Harry was still munching on his dessert and practically vibrating with excitement. His raven black locks were dusted with flour. Harry was bound to be exhausted though. He had spent hours in the kitchen to prepare this feast but there wasn't a sliver of exhaustion visible on his face. He looked happy. There had been a perpetual smile on his face throughout the meal and it had made everything taste all the more heavenly. It was irrevocably the best food he had ever tasted and he knew that Harry was desperately waiting for his verdict. Harry finally leaned back in his seat and looked up at him expectantly,
"So…What do you think?"
He found himself rendered speechless by how utterly beautiful Harry looked. Harry's smile was lighting up the room and his eyes…his gorgeous emerald green eyes glinted beautifully with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. He wasn't sure if it was a hallucination or not but he saw that Harry was glowing…radiating a warm golden sheen that was the quintessence of everything good and whole. Harry made an impatient sound and his smile disappeared as doubt crept up on Harry's face and into his eyes,
"You didn't like it?"
He shook his head hurriedly and Harry's smile returned,
"Don't be like my relatives. Say something."
Murderous intent raised its head inside his chest. He was going to kill them slowly and extremely painfully. How could they have disregarded such a gift? Harry was an absolute blessing. Guilt coiled tight around his heart. He had tried to kill him…wanted to end him…He was so glad he hadn't succeeded,
"Everything was absolutely marvellous. You deserve all the praise in this world for this meal and every other meal that you've prepared up until now. Your relatives were utter fools to disregard you."
Harry ducked his head and he noticed a flush creep up his cheeks. Modesty looked beautiful on him…everything looked beautiful on him…
"Sorry, I went a bit wild with the pantry. I've never had so many ingredients at my disposal before and I just had to try them all out."
Harry didn't sound remorseful though. He sounded extremely jubilant. How could something as simple as cooking bring him so much joy? He decided to voice that thought and Harry laughed and leaned back in his seat,
"I never enjoyed cooking for my relatives since they never appreciated me for it and I never got to taste it anyway unless I licked it off the pots and pans. It was just a compulsion for me, a chore, something that I had to do. But today, it wasn't a compulsion. I wanted to do it for myself and after you offered me that challenge, I knew I had something precious to gain from all this and I…"
Harry paused and his cheeks grew redder with embarrassment. He hoped Harry finished that sentence because he was absolutely dying from curiosity. Harry had his gaze focused on the table as he spoke,
"I…Ummm…I wanted to please you."
He was thunderstruck by that revelation. He wanted to please him? That was the last thing he had expected from Harry. The splotches of red on Harry's cheeks only grew when he looked up and ducked his head again. He must have noticed his perturbation. He corrected his expressions and spoke as gently as possible,
"It was an absolute honour and an utter delight to have you cook for me. It seems you have won the challenge."
Harry looked up and his eyes were glittering with joy,
"So, you're going to teach me then?"
He nodded and Harry jumped to his feet with excitement,
"When can we start?"
Harry's enthusiasm was endearing and he was certain that he would prove to be a quick learner,
"We cannot start yet."
A shadow of doubt flickered over Harry's face and he asked with a hint of fear in his voice,
"Why not? Is there an initiation ritual? I won't have to sell my soul to the devil, will I?"
He couldn't help but burst out into laugher at Harry's naïve and innocent inquiry. Harry rested his elbows on the back of the chair and spoke sullenly,
"It's not funny. My doubts are perfectly justified."
He couldn't remember if he had ever laughed with happiness. Something about Harry lit up his heart and soul and made everything seem brighter…merrier. Once he was sure that he had his laughter under control, he spoke,
"We cannot start until you have a wand."
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