DOMESTIC INTERLUDE.
SEPTEMBER 11, 1997.
Hermione had just turned off the stove when footsteps sounded outside the kitchen. Harry then came into view, hair tousled from sleep—or lack thereof. There were dark bags beneath his still tired eyes. He probably stayed up all night looking after Ginny.
"How is she doing?" Hermione asked as she placed a plate for him.
"She woke up briefly last night and ate a few mouthfuls of that soup you made but she immediately fell asleep," he answered before yawning. "She still looks pale."
"She lost a lot of blood, Harry," Hermione pushed a plate of eggs in his direction. "Without a blood-replenishing potion, it'll take longer for her to regain her strength."
Harry visibly wilted at her statement. "Is there any way to get one?"
"Not without risking us getting caught," she sighed.
Hermione hoped they could move to a different place in at least two days but it'll probably take Ginny an entire week or more to fully recover from being splinched. They were lucky that Hermione thought to bring the Essence of Dittany with them when they left Grimmauld Place yesterday. She shuddered to think what would happen to Ginny if she hadn't brought it—or if she was a few minutes too late in administering it. Her mind drifted back to yesterday's events.
If Malfoy—Lucius, she corrected herself—hadn't stepped in to help her, Ginny would've died in her arms. She stayed up late at night thinking about it until exhaustion took over and she fell into a deep sleep plagued by visions of blood and crystal blue eyes telling her to take deep breaths.
Hermione wasn't a complete fool. She knew that he had a motive. Men like Lucius Malfoy always had one. Back then at the Ministry, she fully expected him to betray them to his fellow Death Eaters to regain his status back in You-Know-Who's inner circle. Who wouldn't? If she was in his position, she would definitely do it.
But he didn't. And that confused her immensely.
It wasn't of consequence to him if Ginny died and no one would blame him but he still went out of his way to help Hermione save her friend. And after that, he also insisted on treating her injured shoulder. Did he really want to take down You-Know-Who? The dark wizard who had been promulgating their beloved Pureblood supremacy agenda? All of these things happening around her were not making any sense and it was throwing her off-kilter.
"Should we contact Arthur and Molly?" Harry spoke up before Hermione's mind could go haywire.
"I don't know," she said. "Part of me wants to…"
"But?"
Hermione smiled at Harry tiredly. "It's still Ginny's decision."
"But what if something happens to her again?" he asked worriedly. "I don't think I can protect her. All I do is get people I care about killed."
"Ginny's a capable witch that doesn't need protecting," Hermione assured him. She knew where Harry's mind was wandering now. "What happened yesterday was a miscalculation. I should've thought things very thoroughly. If anyone's to blame, it's me." Hermione slumped on a chair beside Harry.
"You can't predict everything that's going to happen, Hermione," Harry reached out and clasped his hand in hers. Then he added in a teasing tone. "You're not Trelawney."
Hermione wrinkled her nose in annoyance. "I hate Divination because it's a baseless form of magic. The "Inner Eye"? Pfft! You can't very well study it if you lack the natural ability, can you? But she was the one who made that bloody prophecy regarding you and You-Know-Who. She was the one who also predicted Pettigrew returning to his master. Divination is obscure and inaccurate at the most but Trelawney earned my respect for being passionate about her craft even though we constantly made fun of her in our class."
"I think Professor Dumbledore only hired her to protect her from You-Know-Who. So she could be safe in Hogwarts. I don't think he believes in Divination either," Harry mused before turning white as a sheet.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, sitting straight in her chair. Was Harry having those visions again? "Harry you're scaring me."
"I just realized something," he said, his voice so low Hermione could barely hear it. "Do you remember that lunch in the Great Hall during the holidays when Trelawney came down to join us?"
"Of course, I remember. She made a fuss about the people dining being thirteen if she joined us and the first to get up will die," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Both you and Ron got up and none of you died."
"But Ron and I weren't the first ones to get up from the table," Harry said. "And we were already thirteen even before Trelawney came."
"What do you mean, Harry?" Hermione vividly recalled that there were only twelve chairs set up. Apart from the three of them, there was the late Headmaster, Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout. There was Filch as well and three other students. "No, you're mistaken. There were only twelve chairs there or Trelawney wouldn't make a fuss about it."
"Scabbers," Harry croaked out. "Ron was afraid Crookshanks might eat Scabbers so he brought it along with us. We didn't know it was Pettigrew at that time."
Hermione couldn't contain the gasp from escaping her lips. The memory now playing before her eyes as if she was looking into a Pensieve.
Hermione was helping herself to some roast potatoes when the doors to the Great Hall opened again. Her most hated Professor—and that was saying something because she hated Snape with every fiber of her being—walked towards them. Sybill Trelawney was wearing a green sequined dress, making her look like a Christmas tree herself. Whether she did that on purpose or not, Hermione didn't care.
She heard the scraping of a chair and turned to her right to see Dumbledore getting up to greet his colleague.
"Sybill, this is a pleasant surprise!"
"Dumbledore," she said in the same low tone as Harry. "Professor Dumbledore was the first to get up."
Harry remained speechless beside her. "That can't be… it's probably just a coincidence, right?" The sound was so flat and unconvincing even to her own ears.
"One thing I've learned since that class with Trelawney is that nothing is ever a coincidence."
"Tea leaves and The Grim?" Hermione smiled weakly.
"Tea leaves and The Grim," Harry returned the smile.
"Do you think You-Know-Who practices Divination too? Does he look at crystal balls in a heavily incensed room and search for his future?" Hermione placed both hands in front of her as if she was holding a crystal ball and closed her eyes. "I sense my nose coming back if I torture someone!"
"One, that is a poor imitation of the Dark Lord," a deep voice sounded from the kitchen entrance. Hermione and Harry looked around to see Lucius Malfoy leaning against the wooden frame of the archway. "And second, he doesn't care about his physical appearance. I think he actually prefers looking like that. Much easier to scare people into submission."
"Of course you would know," Harry grumbled.
"But does he really practice Divination?" Hermione insisted, curious to know if someone as powerful as You-Know-Who really believed in such rubbish. But the older wizard shrugged his shoulders before coming to sit beside Hermione.
"Who knows?" he said. "He's mostly sequestered in the west wing of the Manor and only comes out if he has orders for us."
"He's probably looking at tea leaves in between killing innocent people," Harry remarked drily. "I hear crystal balls went out of fashion years ago."
Hermione could tell that Ginny's dark humor was rubbing off on Harry. Speaking of Ginny…
"I need to buy more food and other necessities for us if we're going to stay here longer. The food in the pantry will only last for the next three days and Ginny needs Muggle medicine to speed up her recovery."
"Will it work on her?" Lucius asked. "The Muggle medicine?"
"We won't know if we don't try," Hermione said. "Though I have my parent's prescription pad in my father's study in case she needed something stronger than over-the-counter drugs."
"I'll come with you," Harry volunteered. "It's not safe to go alone."
"You need to stay with Ginny. Someone has to watch over her," Hermione insisted. "And besides, I'll be quick. An hour or two, I think. If I'm not back by then, well, you can start worrying."
"I'll go with her," the Malfoy patriarch piped in. She and Harry looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head.
"Uhm, no offense, Lucius but one, you don't have a wand, and two, do you even know where the supermarket is?" Hermione frowned at him, missing the way Harry's eyebrows rose to his hairline at her use of Lucius' given name.
"I assume you'll be apparating us there," he cocked his head to the side.
"I can't just apparate directly there! It's a Muggle place!" Hermione threw her hands up in frustration. "For someone who wants nothing to do with Muggles, you're not exactly vehemently adhering to the International Statute of Secrecy."
"But we're not going to walk all the way there, are we?" he asked. "How far is this supramarket anyway?"
"It's 'supermarket', and no, there's no 'we'. I'm going there alone."
"Hermione," Harry intervened. "I think you should let Lucius accompany you."
This time, Hermione noticed how Harry stressed out Lucius' name and her cheeks involuntarily blushed a lighter shade of pink. She hadn't exactly told Harry about her conversation with Lucius yesterday since they were all exhausted from the entire ordeal and Harry was also preoccupied with taking care of Ginny.
"Fine!" she hissed. Hermione pinned Lucius with a look. "And you! Don't try anything funny while we're out. I wouldn't hesitate to leave you there."
"Yes, madam," Lucius mock saluted her.
"I'll meet you down here in half an hour," Hermione immediately bolted upstairs, avoiding Harry's questioning look.
She found him in the kitchen, sitting in the same spot she left him thirty minutes ago while Harry was by the sink, washing the dishes. He was wearing her father's clothes again, a pine green dress shirt tucked underneath a pair of washed-out jeans. A navy blue coat was draped over the backrest of the chair beside him. Hermione made a mental note to pass by the men's section clothing. He can't keep wearing her father's clothes. She probably needed to pick up some warmer clothing for Ginny and Harry as well since winter was fast approaching. Hermione hoped that this war would be over before this year ended but she had a feeling that the worst was yet to come.
"Shall we?" Lucius stood when he spotted her. Harry turned around at the sound and pointed the spatula he was washing at them.
"You kids behave, alright?" And then he looked at Lucius with an overexaggerated serious face. "Make sure to get her home before dark, understood?"
Lucius looked at Harry like he had lost his marbles before walking away to the entrance hall to wait for her.
As soon as Lucius was out of earshot, Hermione stomped all the way to Harry and smacked him at the back of his head. "What the bloody hell was that all about?"
"Lucius? Really? Since when are you on a first-name basis with him?" Harry dropped the spatula back in the sink and shut the faucet off before facing Hermione.
"Since he saved our bloody arse back at the Ministry!" she reasoned. "And besides, it's better if we call him Lucius. Calling him Malfoy makes me think he's Draco."
"I thought we call his son 'Ferret'?"
"That's you… and Ron… and Ginny, I think," she shrugged. "I'm way past the childish nicknames."
Harry snorted at that. "Before you go though, I think you should leave the locket here."
"The what—oh," Hermione rummaged through her beaded bag until she found the Horcrux. The thing really gave her an odd feeling whenever she touched it. "We haven't really talked about what to do with it."
"We'll discuss it once you're back from shopping. We need to start figuring out a way how to destroy it without the basilisk fang."
"Where are you going to keep it?"
Harry lifted the chain and placed it over his head. "I think I'll keep it with me for now. I can't risk misplacing it."
"Are you sure that's wise?" Hermione furrowed her brow. "It's just… the locket gives me a bad feeling."
"It is a Horcrux, Hermione. What do you expect?" Harry smirked at her. "You should go. And be careful out there and keep an eye on Mal—I mean Lucius. Merlin, that feels so awkward to say."
Hermione chuckled, "I know how you feel. I haven't gotten used to it either."
Harry gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder before turning back to washing the dishes. Hermione made her way to the entrance hall where Lucius was standing to the side, waiting for her.
"Miss Weasley was right," he remarked.
"About what?"
"Blonde really suits you."
Hermione immediately ducked her head to hide the furious blush on her face at the compliment. What on bloody earth came over him? She mumbled a soft 'thanks' before walking quickly past him. They both stepped out into the cool autumn air. She was too flustered at the moment to feel the cold air and didn't think to grab her coat while Lucius was distracted by something to his left and didn't notice her lack of outerwear either. They began walking down the walkway, their hands occasionally brushing. When they reached past the gate and the wards she and Harry had set up, Hermione offered her hand for a side-along apparition. As soon as Lucius touched her fingers, he pulled back and looked at her closer. "Where is your coat? Your hands are like ice."
She suddenly realized how cold she was and hugged herself. "I forgot it in the kitchen. Wait, let me go get it."
He clucked his tongue at her but pulled his coat off his arm and slid it around her shoulders in one fluid motion. She slid her arms inside, then pulled it tightly around her. It was warm from his body and smelled of the all-too-familiar lavender.
"There," he said. "Now let's not waste any more time."
Hermione looked down at their joined hands. A feeling was settling at the bottom of her stomach at the sight of it. It was getting harder and harder for her to separate the Lucius Malfoy, Pureblood bigot, and the Lucius Malfoy who was here with them now, helping them search for Horcruxes and getting them out of thick situations.
She looked up back at him but he was staring at a point in the distance. Hermione tightened her fingers around his as she felt the pull of apparition.
"Here we go."
They landed in a deserted alley two blocks away from Waitrose.
"You really have a penchant for apparating us into questionable locations," Lucius remarked before gently pulling his hand away from hers.
"Where do you want me to land? In the middle of the park?" she quipped. The warm feeling in her chest quickly fading at his barb.
"Why not?" he shrugged. "Parks have secluded areas where you can apparate to."
Hermione chose to ignore his last statement. They walked the rest of the way to the store in companionable silence. She watched as a group of Asian tourists posed for pictures in front of a statue then began chattering excitedly at something behind Hermione and Lucius. She resisted the urge to turn around and moved to the side as they passed them quickly; they didn't acknowledge either one of them, but she couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm.
They finally reached the supermarket and walked inside. Hermione told him to grab the trolley and Lucius asked her what they were going to do with it.
"Muggles couldn't use magic to lift items so they put all the stuff they need in here," she nodded her head in the direction of the shopping aisles where people were putting their groceries in the trolley. "They have baskets too if you're only going to buy a few things but we're going to need the trolley."
"Interesting," he murmured as he took the trolley from her and began pushing it past the cashiers.
It felt so domestic being at the supermarket with him and knew it probably looked that way to anyone observing them, especially with the way the two of them interacted with each other. But they were far from the happy couple shopping for food on a Thursday morning.
"I think we should start with the nonperishables first," she announced. "Things we can bring with us once Ginny is fit to travel."
They walked up and down the aisles together. He pushed the trolley while she picked things off the shelves.
"Our current accommodations are fine," Lucius eventually said. "Why do we have to leave?"
"Because staying in a large house isn't feasible. The enchantments placed there by Professor McGonagall were only meant so I could practice underaged magic without the Ministry detecting it. It's not meant to keep unwanted people out."
"For someone who claims she's a witch you sure don't use your magic, huh?"
Hermione stopped in her tracks and glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"My son has been whining about you being a know-it-all swot since he met you. I guess he's been exaggerating things as usual," Lucius rolled his eyes. "House wards. Haven't you tried putting them up?"
"They don't actually teach those things at Hogwarts, you know? And the ones I've read required me to use my blood," she sniffed in disdain. An old Muggle lady pushing a trolley looked at them with wide eyes when Hermione said "use my blood".
Lucius sighed. He waited till the old lady was out of earshot before answering her. "Of course it will require your blood. It's a house ward! And not all magic that uses one's blood is dark. You should stop viewing things in black and white."
"That's rich coming from you," she mocked. "Stop viewing things in black and white? I could say the same about your blood purity thing."
"That's different," he said defensively.
"How so?" Hermione challenged. "Have you actually seen blood under a microscope?"
"A micro-what? I have no idea what you're talking about."
"A microscope is a Muggle device used to examine objects that are too small to be seen by the naked eye. The day your son called me a Mudblood, I asked my father if he could take a look at my blood just to see if there was really mud in it. He pricked my finger and squeezed it until two drops landed on the slide. I looked at my blood—magnified by the microscope—for Merlin knows how long but I couldn't find any trace of mud in it. Just the usual components." Hermione stood straighter before crossing her arms across her chest. "Just because you were born to two magical people doesn't make you superior to others who weren't. In the end, we're all just flesh and bones and if you only shed your cloak of blood purity, you'll find us all similar underneath."
They stared at one another, the only sounds were the squeaking trolleys and the usual white noise from the people shopping. Hermione wondered if she had said too much, provoked him, or angered him but the blank look he had been giving her since she started her speech was grating on her nerves. She contemplated leaving him but she had a vow to uphold—that, and a shopping chore to finish.
When a full minute passed and there was still no reaction from him, Hermione decided to break the silence. She picked up one of the cans on the shelf and showed it to him.
"Beans?"
That finally got a reaction out of him. His face immediately screwed in disgust. "Don't they have anything else more… palatable in this large establishment?"
Hermione placed a hand on her chest mockingly. "I'm terribly sorry, your Highness. I haven't exactly allotted caviar in our budget."
"Never liked caviar," Lucius shrugged then gave her a small smile. "But lately I've developed a fondness for coffee."
"So, you're one of those types," Hermione muttered. "C'mon then. Their coffees are on the next aisle."
Hermione took the lead, flittering here and there in every aisle for food that wouldn't perish quickly, but would fill them to satisfaction when eaten while Lucius pushed the nearly full cart alongside her. They eventually stopped when they reached the coffee section.
"All of these are coffee?" he said, astonished.
"Not all of them," she replied. "Some of it is tea."
"Oh," he said. "What are we going to get? Do they have that coffee we drank in that shop in Diagon Alley?"
Hermione then proceeded to explain several types of coffee to him and how they were made. Her parents were tea drinkers and so were the rest of the staff. The only person who drank coffee was the family butler, Bernard, and that was how Hermione came to be acquainted with the drink.
"The coffee in that shop is probably better than the ones in here though," she warned him.
"I still like to try it," he insisted.
In the end, they picked three bags of French roast coffee, the same brand Bernard used to buy, and a carton of milk. Hermione remembered Ginny wanting to try it when she mentioned her and Lucius' little detour to that shop in Diagon Alley.
They stopped by the toiletries once they were done and Hermione and Lucius spent a couple of minutes bickering over what shampoo to pick until an old lady beside them told them they reminded her of when she and her husband were just recently married. Both Lucius and Hermione immediately opted for the citrus-scented shampoo just so they could escape the old lady's incessant questions about their nonexistent relationship.
The trip to the clothes section was mercifully short. Lucius was quick to pick out the clothes that he wanted or as close to what he wanted and thankfully, nearly all of it was in his size. Hermione picked two wool coats for Ginny and Harry while Lucius was in the dressing room.
"Muggles have abysmal taste in fashion," he muttered as he exited the dressing room carrying a lump of clothes. "Half of these clothes make my skin itch."
"Live with it. Comfort isn't exactly our number one priority. We're supposed to be on the run, not grocery shopping at Waitrose."
"Why can't we do both?" he said, dropping it on top of the trolley.
"Because we don't have the budget," she said. "The money I have here was supposed to be used only for emergencies."
"Isn't this an emergency?"
Well, he had a point there. "The food and toiletries, yes, but you complaining about cheap clothes? No."
Hermione heard Lucius sigh before gesturing at their purchase. "Is this everything?" he said, looking at the overflowing trolley.
Hermione put her hands on her hips, inspecting the contents. "I guess so. I can always come back some other day if we forgot anything."
The two made their way over to the checkout. The woman behind the counter, a blonde by the name of Diane, smiled at Lucius, looking him over in a manner not so subtle. "Hi," she greeted, ignoring Hermione completely, "You ready to check out?"
Lucius nodded, smiling. If he noticed the way Diane was looking at him, he didn't say anything about it. "Yes, we're ready."
Diane gave Lucius a smile that made Hermione completely annoyed. "You're not from around here, are you?" she asked, putting the groceries in bags, "I would definitely notice someone as handsome as you."
As the two of them launched into a conversation, Hermione stood behind Lucius so he wouldn't see the way she glared daggers at the cashier, not that it was effective since the woman was practically ignoring Hermione's existence completely in favor of chatting up Lucius. Honestly, how rude could the woman get?
"Alright, it looks like we're done here. Come on, Lucius! We wouldn't want Harry to keep waiting," Hermione said once all of their groceries were bagged and practically dragged him out. When she turned her head and saw the cashier wink at Lucius, she scowled.
"My, my, someone's feeling territorial," he drawled as he carried most of the bagged groceries. Hermione watched, amused as he struggled to balance everything at first but he eventually got the hang of it. She hated how he still looked so graceful and elegant even when carrying four bags of groceries.
"I don't know what you mean," she hissed.
"Hmm. I must be mistaken then," he pondered out loud.
They returned to the empty alley they apparated to earlier. When Hermione was sure that they were all alone, she shrunk the groceries and placed them inside her beaded bag before taking Lucius' hand and disapparating back to her home.
It was nearly lunchtime when they arrived before the front gates. Hermione shrugged the coat off her and handed it to Lucius who took it without a word. Harry was still in the kitchen but this time, he was cooking lunch. Looking at the ingredients sprawled across the countertop, Hermione assumed he was cooking spaghetti and meatballs.
"You're finally back," Harry said, the chain of the locket peeking outside the collar of his shirt.
"Yeah," Hermione replied as she pulled out the shrunken bags of groceries onto the small table. "Sorry it took so long. We also did some clothes shopping for your royal Highness here."
"You do know I'm also here with you?" Lucius scowled at her.
She didn't feel up to arguing with him, so she just ignored him and continued to talk to Harry. "I also picked up a few vitamins and paracetamols for Ginny and coats for the two of you." Hermione waved her wand and the grocery bags reverted to their original size.
"So, how is grocery shopping with big ol' Death Eater here?" Harry whispered out of Lucius' earshot. "Did he torture any Muggles?"
"Quite the contrary," Hermione rolled her eyes. "He actually flirted with one. The hypocrite."
"And you're mad because?"
"I am not mad!" she hissed quite angrily.
"Okay, relax," Harry held up both hands in which one was holding a can of sausages. "I think we should store this one in your beaded bag for emergencies."
"That's actually what I was thinking," Hermione grumbled.
"How is Ginevra?" Lucius spoke from the other side of the kitchen. He was inspecting the saucepan where the spaghetti sauce was currently being cooked.
"Better than yesterday, but she's still weak from the blood loss," Harry replied.
"She needs a blood-replenishing potion and a strength restorative draught."
Harry glanced at Hermione. "That's what I said."
"We can't just waltz into Diagon Alley and buy them!" she glared at the two men in front of her.
"Why?" Lucius asked. "We did it yesterday."
"That was before we stormed the Ministry!" Hermione was now starting to question his intellect. "Yaxley saw us when the Polyjuice potion wore off so our faces are plastered all over Magical Britain by now."
"Don't overestimate Corban's mental capacity. There might be a good chance he recognized neither of us even if we screamed our name in his face," Lucius said smugly. "If he couldn't find the unlisted Malfoy properties even with all the resources at his disposal, then he wouldn't find us."
Hermione noticed Harry looking hopeful at Lucius' words. She was probably the one who wanted to heal Ginny the most since she was the one to blame for her friend's current predicament but going to Diagon Alley was riskier than infiltrating the Ministry. Diagon Alley was too open and there were many probabilities to consider.
"Let's think about it first, alright?" she then turned to Harry. "This isn't Hogwarts anymore where we rush into things. We don't have the infirmary to heal us if something happens. Give the Muggle medicine two days. If Ginny doesn't get better by then, then we'll go to Diagon Alley to get the potions."
Fortunately, Harry realized the wisdom in her words and nodded. He then resumed cooking and left the unpacking of the groceries to her. As she sorted each item in the bag, she felt a presence beside her. She turned to see Lucius looming over.
"What?" she snapped.
"Coffee," he simply said.
"Now?" she raised her eyebrow in disbelief. "We're having lunch in a few minutes and you want to have coffee now?"
"I don't see why not?" he huffed. "Is there some sort of rule where you're not allowed to have coffee before a meal?"
"If you want coffee that much, then make one yourself. The coffeemaker's over there," she pointed to the white coffeemaker sitting beside the toaster.
"I don't know how to operate that Muggle contraption," he whined petulantly. For a moment there, Hermione was struck by how similar he and his son were. The way Draco always griped about how his father will "hear about it" made her think that maybe he looked up so much to Lucius that he even copied his mannerisms. That Draco thought the world of his father humanized him a bit in Hermione's eyes. She wondered if Lucius thought the same of his father. Is his father still even alive?
"Then start learning how. No better time than the present, isn't it?" she picked up one of the coffee bags and shoved it in Lucius' arms. "I'm going upstairs to check on Ginny."
She turned around and left them, ignoring Lucius' voice calling her name.
Harry continued to stir the saucepan, occasionally tasting it every time he added a new ingredient. He enjoyed cooking especially when the Dursleys weren't nipping at his heels to hurry up. He found the task similar to brewing potions but it took less time and concentration, his mind free to wander around. Right now though, his mind was not with Ginny but with the two people inside the kitchen with him.
Sometimes, when Harry thought he had Hermione all figured out, she would then do something unexpected. Like that time she led Umbridge to the Forbidden Forest or setting Snape's robes on fire—although she only did those things to save his sorry arse. But still, Hermione can be predictable most of the time. It was why she was terrible at chess and why Harry was a better duelist than her despite her vast knowledge of hexes.
But Hermione was acting a bit odd lately. Odder than her usual self especially when Malf—Lucius (gods above, he had to get used to calling the pompous git by his given name) was in her vicinity. Harry chalked it up to her usual cautious nature at first but every single time she and Lucius were alone together, she would then act weirdly around them sometimes after. Of course, Harry knew that the older wizard was constantly provoking them, Hermione probably even more so. But lately, he noticed something different.
Harry knew nothing about unbreakable vows but he assumed it was probably the reason why there was this friction going on between the two. And it was probably the unbreakable vow that made Hermione act this way around the Malfoy patriarch because what other reason could it be? He and Ginny got along fine with Lucius even if he was being an absolute arse sometimes. There were times when Harry found his sardonic humor amusing and he had to wonder if Draco, had he not been so absorbed in his Pureblood mania, would be this fun to get along with—or probably even better since the Ferret had the tendency to be a drama queen, spoilt little shit that he was.
Glancing at Malfoy now who was busy poking and prodding the coffeemaker instead of asking for his help, Harry also wondered if it went both ways. What if the vow was affecting him as well?
"You're supposed to pull the lid up," he said as he stirred the saucepan slowly. Probably a few more stirs then he'll let it simmer for three minutes before adding the meatballs.
"What lid?"
Harry sighed. It was like having an extraterrestrial being in their midst. "I'm only going to show you this once so you better pay attention."
Lucius nodded and stepped back, giving Harry space.
"The first thing you do is check if there's a filter inside and water in the reservoir. If there's no filter then grab one from here," Harry popped the cabinets open until he found a plastic full of coffee filters. He placed it inside the filter basket. "But before you do that, make sure to throw whatever water that's left in there. The quality of the water is key to a good coffee."
Harry then proceeded to fill up the reservoir with fresh filtered water until it nearly reaches the highest water level. "Next is we add the coffee."
Lucius handed the bag to him before stepping back to lean on the countertop.
"I usually put one tablespoon per five fluid ounces of water but if you wanted a stronger taste, use two tablespoons of coffee," Harry said. "Close the lid and that's that. All you had to do is press this button here and coffee will come out onto the carafe."
"That's it?"
"Yeah, that's pretty much it," Harry shrugged.
"Hermione said Muggles don't know any form of magic so how come they can conjure people in metal boxes and make coffee with a simple click of this button?"
It really amazed Harry how the wizarding community was so left behind by today's technological advancement. Lucius was like Arthur in a way although the former hid his curiosity under his disdain for Muggles while Arthur was openly embracing it. Harry shuddered to think how much power the Ministry would acquire if they weren't so derisive about the Muggles. How Muggle technology could actually further improve a wizard's life.
"You're probably referring to television," he said. "The thing is, Muggles can't do magic so to make their lives a bit easier, they invent things with the help of science."
"Science?"
"Yeah, it's their own form of magic although it isn't magic in any way," Harry explained. "It's based off on things they've seen, touched, heard, or tasted. Things they've experienced and experimented with. Everyone can do it if they study the subject enough even us Magical people. Although, some Muggles think that Science, like Magic, is the work of the devil and must be purged."
"Like the Salem Witch trials," Lucius frowned. "But if it isn't magic, then why do they think it's the work of this devil? Why are they killing off one of their own?"
"Probably the same reason why you lot are so obsessed with removing Muggleborns," Harry looked at him seriously this time. "People tend to fear what they don't understand."
"I do not need to understand Muggleborns," Lucius stood straighter and was now towering over Harry but he didn't back down. He had never been afraid of Voldemort. Lucius Malfoy was no different. "And I certainly do not fear them."
"Sure. Keeping telling yourself that," he said. He was surprised that Lucius refrained from using the derogatory term even if there were only the two of them.
The coffeemaker stopped dripping and of the two, it was Harry who looked away first because the spaghetti sauce was starting to smell burnt. He turned around and lowered the heat of the stove before dumping the meatballs in it. He stirred it for a few seconds before covering it with a lid.
From the corner of his eye, he watched as Lucius pulled the carafe off the warming plate and poured himself a generous amount of coffee. Harry had drunk coffee before but he never developed a taste for it, unlike Hermione who occasionally drank it when she was staying up late in the Gryffindor common rooms to study.
"Add a splash of milk if it tastes too bitter," he couldn't resist saying as Lucius took a sip. It was actually how Hermione took her coffee. Café Au Lait, she called it.
Lucius rummaged through the grocery bags until he found the carton of milk. He added a small amount just like Harry said and stirred it before taking another sip. "I think this is better."
"They called that type of coffee, Café Au Lait."
"Obviously," the older wizard snorted. "Can't they come up with a unique name?"
"Take that up to the courts," Harry joked. "Anyway, lunch is ready. Do you mind setting the table? I'll go and call Hermione. Ginny might be awake now too."
"How do you set a table?"
"Bloody hell," Harry sighed, carding his fingers through his bleach-blond hair. "How do you even exist? Is there any household chore you actually know how to do?"
"I know now how to do grocery shopping," he smirked. "And how to do coffee."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Nevermind. I'll do it."
He quickly set up the table, placing some of the unpacked groceries on the kitchen counter before heading upstairs to Ginny's room. Harry could hear voices on the other side but he still knocked first before entering. Ginny was propped up on the bed, a glass of water in one hand while Hermione sat on the edge.
"Lunch is ready," he said by way of greeting. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," she said. Harry noticed the color was finally returning to her cheeks but she still looked so fragile. He resisted the urge to look away in shame knowing Ginny would scold him for it. "What's for lunch?"
"Spaghetti and meatballs."
"That's actually Charlie's favorite food," Ginny smiled sadly. "Although he hated Mum's recipe."
"That's a first," Hermione snorted. "I love all of Molly's cooking. Did he say why he didn't like it?"
"He says it doesn't taste sour enough."
"Fair enough."
There was a thick silence after that and Harry wondered what the two women were talking about before he entered. It made him wish that he had just listened in for a few seconds before knocking on the door (although he'll probably get smacked on the back of his head if he was caught eavesdropping).
"I'll bring you a plate if you feel up to eating," Harry offered.
Ginny shook her head. "I can go down—no Harry, I'll go down with you guys. I'm tired of lying in bed all day since yesterday."
"You were injured, Gin. Bed rest for at least three days is mandatory," Hermione spoke this time.
"Easy for you to say," Ginny sniffed. "You're not the one stuck inside this room with nothing to do."
"There is something you could do: sleep."
"Har, har, Hermione. You sound like Pomfrey after I injured my ankle during Quidditch practice," the redhead rolled her eyes. "But seriously though, I'll be fine if I clutched onto any of you for support. Walking is exercise anyway."
"Fine, but if you're feeling faint, tell me at once." Harry insisted.
The three of them made their way back downstairs at a leisurely pace with Ginny leaning against Harry while Hermione walked behind them. Ginny was panting by the time they reached the end of the stairs and he offered to carry her back to bed but she fixed him with a scowl. Nearing the archway leading to the kitchens, Ginny tilted her head up and took a deep breath.
"What is that smell?"
"Coffee," Harry replied.
"You taught him how to use the coffeemaker, didn't you?" Hermione asked.
"Well, I couldn't just let him continue poking the machine. What if he did something and accidentally set the kitchen on fire?"
"Wait," Ginny held up a finger. "Lucius Malfoy is making coffee?"
"We bought three bags of it when we went to the supermarket. I guessed he deserved it for helping me save you back then."
"Do you have some more? Can I have one?"
"Once you're well enough you can start drinking it," Hermione said. "My father told me that coffee isn't good for a recovering patient."
"Well, if there's still coffee left, that is," Harry said. "With the way Lucius was gulping it down earlier, I think you'll run out of coffee in a week and you'll be left with a palpitating, restless adult wizard."
"Lucius?" Ginny glanced from Harry to Hermione. "Since when? I thought I was only unconscious since yesterday?"
"I'll let Hermione explain it to you."
The three of them entered the kitchen. Lucius in cropped, black hair and Muggle clothes was sitting in one of the chairs, a coffee mug in one hand. It looked so… domestic that Harry felt like slapping himself just in case he was dreaming. It was like they were an odd family eating lunch when they were very far from it in fact. Looking to his left, Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise. The coffee on the carafe was nearly empty. He looked back at Hermione who was staring between Lucius and the coffeemaker in disbelief.
"I take back what I said earlier, Hermione. You'll definitely run out of coffee in three days if he keeps that up."
AN: Can't believe it took me two months to update. So sorry!
