Prompt:
Vernon is a chef and teaches Harry to cook food to a high quality. During Hogwarts, Harry teaches the house elves different cooking techniques and recipes.
One-Shot:
"BOY! WHERE'S THE LAMB SAUCE?!" Vernon Dursley bellowed, his four chins wobbling in perfect synchrony as his beady eyes glared angrily at the dining room door. A moment later, his seven year old nephew hurried into the room, lamb sauce in hand and chef's hat on head.
The boy in question, Harry Potter, had been abandoned at the Dursley home after his parents had been murdered by freaks. Lesser men would have resented the boy, punished him for his parents' freakishness, but not Vernon. He was determined to make something of the lad, give him skills that would last throughout his life - give him a path other than magic to follow. And so he'd brought him up teaching him that which he knew best - how to sell dri...erm, how to make really tasty food.
As he drizzled the lamb sauce over the delicious lamb shank Harry had made, he beamed with pride. "You've done well boy, this is perfectly cooked. Not a shade too well done. Isn't that right Pet?"
The response from his wife was more like a muffled grunt, as she was mid-chew at that point. Her XXL dress was starting to look a bit tight, Vernon noted. Perhaps that was the one downside of his plan. Harry might be set for life, but he, Petunia and Dudley had put on just a tad too much weight supporting him. Morbidly obese the doctors said, but they were just exaggerating. Perfectly plump he preferred to consider them. Besides, Petunia looked better with a bit more on her bones anyway.
Distraction over, he blinked and turned back to Harry who was still hovering.
"Well, what are you standing around here for boy? The soufflé will be burning! Get to it! I didn't raise you to spoil good food! One good lamb shank doesn't mean you can rest on your laurels, especially when there's none left for seconds!"
Yes, he thought, as Harry scurried back to the kitchen. The boy had turned out well. Maybe one day, he'd be able to pass his skills on to others - his own children maybe. Keep the Dursley recipes alive...
"What the fuck is this shit?!"
As yet another ball of dough hit the stone wall of the kitchens, Dobby was beginning to think that Mr Harry Potter sir wasn't all that fun to be around after all, freedom or no freedom.
"Dobby is sorry Mr Harry Potter sir! Dobby just thought..."
"I don't give a shit what you thought Dobby! What is it with House Elves - you can't put Pumpkin in everything, it's disgusting!" Harry raged. "That pizza dough is so disgusting, if you take it to Italy you'd get arrested! Start again!"
Dobby hung his head in shame as Harry turned to the next pair of elves along the line, before reaching out for fresh ingredients to start over.
"No! What are you doing?! That's it, I'm done with you - you and you, GET OUT!" Harry raged. "Come on guys, my aunt and uncle are going to be coming for this tournament, and I will NOT have you serving them this shit on my watch! I can't hold your hands anymore!"
Dobby thought maybe he'd be putting in a transfer request with Mr Dumbledore sir to the laundry elves contingent. No amount of socks was worth this.