Warning: eat before you read, don't come complain about hunger.
As always, my Magzillasaurus cleaned up this chapter but left the pieces of eggshell behind *wink*
Your lovely (and funny) reviews make me want to write faster... *hint*
Chapter Eleven
The night bled into a movie one. Hermione conceded into popping the videotape inside the player and telling everyone to make themselves comfortable around her living room, a bowl of ice cream in everyone's lap.
The introduction scene of The Fast and the Furious with the flashy black cars in a truck pursuit, was a real eye-opener and captivated nearly everyone, the first timers and the regular viewers alike. Harry had Ginny curled half on his lap, both eating from the same bowl, though it's content wasn't equally shared. He enjoyed the speeding cars, she ogled all the male beauty, wiggling her eyebrows at Hermione during the first real confrontation between Dom and Brian outside the Toretto's shop.
Theo sat on the shaggy carpet, Luna curled between his legs, the witch feeding her wizard spoonfuls of chocolate ice cream. He had trouble following the story, distracted by her actions. Luna noticed foremostly the details that didn't matter to the rest.
Blaise and Ron's eyes were glued to the screen - the majority of time; both sitting with two witches between them, Pansy and Daphne. Ron dropped a look at the girl next to him. Uneasy at times, he wasn't like Blaise in any form: the ever sweet talker, the womaniser that had put his arm around Daphne's seat, stealthily.
He tried to copy Blaise's smooth move, but Pansy caught him halfway, and he retreated the arm as if he was scratching his hair. Harry noticed it, shaking his head at the clumsy attempt… Ron and seduction, not a success story. The witch, however, compensated by inching closer; if a scene was more intense, she would put her hand on his thigh, and Ron would sit straighter.
If Ron had paid more attention to Draco's moves, he would have learned quite a lot.
Hermione enlarged the one-seater, Draco sitting next to her. As the movie went on, Hermione rested more and more against the blond, who slowly but certainly had managed to put his arm around her waist and pull her closer. What surprised the rest more, was them sharing a bowl of the cookie dough ice cream, the last pint Hermione claimed before Ron could steal both cartons. Somehow along the way, Draco ditched his spoon to use hers, and even feed her, Hermione opening her mouth on autopilot.
One would consider this cosy.
-oOo-
*Cooking Test part Two: the witches*
Very unlike the wizards, the room was filled with chatter between the ladies, a few wizards pointing out that if you closed your eyes, it was just the cackling inside a henhouse.
The introductory speech from Molly was way shorter than for the men, as all the girls were ready behind the benches, aprons around their waists, hands thoroughly washed. On the first row, the gang: Daphne on the right of Ginny, then Hermione on her left, with Pansy on her other side, Luna and last was Tracey. The Slytherins didn't beg for help, but came pretty close, as this was their very first introduction to cooking, Ginny and Hermione prompted into being their guides.
Hermione arrived, a large bag around her shoulder, and unloaded her cargo: a glass of wine, and its corresponding bottle of white, and as very last, her boombox. All purebloods eyed the strange looking black device, much the opposite of the half-blood and muggle born wizards. Hermione felt obliged to explain, "This is a box that plays music, my choice of music. I can't cook without it."
Harry inquired aloud, "That thing needs electricity, 'Mione."
"I've tweaked it." A shoulder shrug followed the cheeky grin. Popping the bottle of wine open, she poured some and sipped. "Hmmm, heavenly good."
"I get the music, witch. But the wine?" Pansy felt foremostly jealous, itching for a glass herself.
Luckily, Hermione foresaw the issue, and accioed the remaining ones out of her bag, sharing the bottle equally and handing them over to her best and her newest friends, "Cooking with a good glass is my other thing."
"Nice gesture, but now you're out of wine." Daphne had just done speaking as Hermione flashed the neck of a new bottle peeping out of her bag.
Ginny declared, "This girl and her extension charms? A perfect combo. Plus, she never forgets her feather-light charm." She pecked the brunette's cheek, "Thanks, sis."
"Hermione dear, have you finished unpacking?"
A new cheeky grin and Molly continued, "We all know why we are here, so I only need to reveal today's menu: Sautéed scallops with mushrooms and spinach, chicken and mushroom puff pie, and bread and butter pudding."
"Granger, what are scallops?"
"Seafood."
"Seafood as in fish?"
"Sort of, Pansy. Outside they look like oysters, but different on the inside."
"Bullocks, my hands will reek after fish…" Harry almost felt compassion for the Slytherin Princess. Almost.
Molly set the masses into motion with a clap of her hands.
"Ginny, we should start with what? Both need the oven, right?" Hermione conferred with her neighbour.
"The bread pudding needs cooling off. The puff pie should be served warm, I think we start best like the guys, dessert first." List in hands Ginny led the group towards the display.
A few minutes later, they were all back, each Slytherin copying meticulously every move. Stretching her arms, Hermione cracked her fingers, fired up the boombox with Britney's 'Baby one more time.' One last sip and she got the party started.
Ginny and Hermione bounced waists against each other, dancing at the up-tempo beats of Britney's song.
"Granger." A few minutes later, the first tap on her shoulder, "The milk, the vanilla seeds and the cream are in here. How do I heat this?"
Hermione showed how the oven top worked, "Keep stirring until you see bubbles. Stop it then." Pansy stirred for dear life, "Not so fast, or it will never heat." The stirring slowed down. A questioning look received an approving nod.
Next step: the eggs. Hermione broke hers knowingly into the next jug. In the corner of her eye, Pansy added the eggs as a whole. "Parkinson, what are you doing?" The girl was whisking it together with the sugar.
"Don't you see? It says to whisk the eggs and the sugar. I have no idea what a yolk is."
Hermione slapped the palm against her forehead, "Give me patience!" Luckily she still had one egg to do, "See how I do it. Light tick against the jug, spread it with the tips of your fingers and voila."
Pansy copied, and so did Daphne, but the raven-haired witch let her shells fall into the sugar. Disgusted, she picked the halves with the tips of her fingers, scrunching her face. Daphne did a cleaner job, altogether.
"Now the yolk, break an egg in a small cup, and spoon the yellow core into your mix."
"My fingers are glued together." Pansy spread her digits open, the egg-white acting as glue.
"Wash them later, Pansy."
"Disgusting." Under much directing from Hermione, Pansy finally succeeded in putting the batter into the oven, slowing down the other witches progress.
"The roast!"
"Yes, Captain Weasley." The tunes of Lou Bega's Mambo No. 5 filled the room, and both girls didn't resist following the mambo-jazz song's dance steps. They giggled freely.
While the others rushed towards the display to pick the ingredients, Hermione's last task for her dessert was cleaning some strawberries and setting them apart as the finishing touch. The figurative crumbles so to speak, make it easier for Draco to find her cooking.
-oOo-
"Is this normal behaviour, Potter?" Draco couldn't take his eyes away from Hermione, joy radiated from her. Every now and then, she sipped from her wine.
"All the time. It was Hermione who taught Ginny to dance this way, now whenever they find the time, they bounce around the whole place. She's happy when she dances, Malfoy. No worries, no nasty memories. Completely content."
-oOo-
"Granger, is this also part of cooking? Wiggling your hips this way." Pansy's biggest piff was not them dancing, rather her not knowing how to join in.
Hermione pointed at her own chest, "Me, muggleborn." Finger stabbed into Pansy's, "You, Pureblood."
"What do you mean, Granger?"
"I mean, my mother danced around the house. She and I cooked together while enjoying a good song and a drink. This feels like good old times."
Daphne's shoulders dropped, "Our mothers forced us into ballet."
Hermione waved a hand away, "Please, don't remind me. Back straight! Chin in the air! Pain is good! Stand on your toes!"
"Shoulders stiff!" Daphne added.
Pansy spoke between the giggles, "You have the grace of a goblin! You have to move like a swan, Miss Parkinson!"
"What will your mother say, Miss Davies!"
"To hell with ballet lessons." Hermione rose her glass, the salute copied by all. Step by step she showed the dance steps from the mambo and repeated the last number, the other witches falling slowly into the rhythm.
-oOo-
"She's amazing."
"Yes, one-of-a-kind." Harry's surprised with Draco's adoration.
"You don't get it. She could mock them, rub it even more how much more free her childhood was compared to our witches. Instead, she's…"
"Teaching your Slytherin girls how to dance. Malfoy, meet Hermione." In the meantime, Harry grinned at his Ginny, who wiggled her hips seductively.
"Have mercy on us, you get to take your woman home and shag her senseless."
"Hmm." Harry side-eyed the blond, "In time, you'll have your chance."
"I suggested dinner another night. She wouldn't have it."
"That's also Hermione. Following her own set of rules, unless she's forced to break them for the greater good." It came from Ron. His eyes were glued to Pansy, it was funny to see her fumble, but at the same time, he wanted to help her. He knew how to make an omelette, at least, he could have broken the eggs for her. "I can't send her to my mum, she'll wither away."
"Weaselbee, what are you saying?"
"Pansy can't cook, she can't even break an egg."
"Well, yes. Teaching a woman to be the perfect Pureblood wife doesn't include cooking lessons." Draco reasoned, watching Hermione add the bacon to the pan, dancing to the rhythm of the next song. He could already picture them, cooking their meal together in their own kitchen. I'm becoming a Hufflepuff with these domestic thoughts.
She was nibbling on a carrot, flashing him a smile while biting into it. It was the barbecue all over again. "Mate, if I were you, I wouldn't let her close to your wand. She likes to bite through." Blaise cringed at the thought.
"You worry too much."
A yell came from Pansy's bench, as the witch forgot a pan could be as hot as a cauldron above the fire. Hermione held the injured finger under the water, restraining a smirk. Pansy returned to her job, digit stuck in the air, luckily it was her pinky.
-oOo-
The pie was in the oven, Hermione relieved that the puff pastry had been made upfront - it was a tricky thing to prepare. The aromas coming from within made her hungry and eased her mind, yummy, delicious.
The dreadful last course, the scallops, was the one dish Hermione didn't look forward to preparing. Eating it was great, but to make it: bah. She agreed with Pansy, there were nicer jobs out there. Luckily, the shells were already open.
"Yuck, this is so revolting." Pansy gagged, but Daphne, Luna and Tracey looked nauseated as well.
"You know what they say about scallops?" With decisive movements, Hermione demonstrated how to separate the spongy white meat from its nest. The others copied, with eyes closed.
"No, amuse us." Pansy's face wrinkled from disgust.
"It's a hell of an aphrodisiac." Hermione dried her forehead on her sleeve, sighing in contempt now the dirty task was done, "From now on, we use the tongs." The brunette's hands received a thorough wash with Harry's metallic soap bar.
"Great, I'll walk around horny, without a wizard to scratch the itch. Let me thank Mrs. Weasley for my frustration." Borrowing the bar, the skin of Pansy's hands was scrubbed until it looked red.
"Memorise it for future use, Parkinson. It might come in handy, you know." A wiggle of eyebrows.
Pansy and Daphne fried the mushrooms from afar, one arm in the air as if they were duelling, spatulas in the opposite hands against the spatters.
"Aaargh."
"Fuck."
"Merlin's balls."
Tracey exchanged chuckles with the other girls, frying was not so strange compared to the rest. Out in the stands, the laughter was more mocking than desired.
With arms outstretched, the mushrooms were dropped into a waiting dish, and the pan reused to fry the spinach.
"Merlin, it looks like Harry's hmmm," Molly passed by at that moment, and Ginny waited until the coast was clear, "His thing shrinks this fast after a good shag." Ginny's associated the thought with the sight of the spinach leaves shrinking into little pieces. Speechless at first, a roaring of laughter broke out. They all stared at the said wizard, who looked confused at the sudden interest.
Pansy shook her head between the giggles, "They all do, honey. Not only your Harry." Hermione couldn't avoid a wicked look at Draco. The Slytherin witch whispered in her ear, "Yes, him too."
-oOo-
Finding the dish from a certain witch was less easy than the other way around. Harry only found Ginny's thanks to the mix of herbs she often used at home. With the rest, the presentation looked as if they were paintings. Ron only found Pansy's by accident, the dessert not as steady as it should be, and after a taste, a bit crunchy. It seemed some bits of the eggshell had remained behind.
Draco knew what to look for. The strawberries. Once his eye caught the food, he sent killer looks at everyone who wanted to taste. It wasn't delicious. It was divine. He could basically picture their lives from now on, she cooks, he assists, the elf cleans.
He had to agree, the best way to a man's heart does run through his stomach. In his case, it concluded the business.