Mizon Blass by Aradia Ravenswood narrated by Briar and Townes
Week 1, Monday, July 6th, 2009 Jinny glanced at the clock and
cursed under her breath. Already 5 passed, if she didn't
leave now she was going to be late, but this article was
barely half done. Weasley.
Ginny sighed. That would be Barnabas Cuff,
editor in chief at the Daily Prophet and her very surly boss.
Weasley. He yelled again from his office,
his voice carrying over the large newsroom and the dull
click clack of the typewriters. Get in here, come in, Mr. Cuff,
she called, fighting to keep the impatience out of her voice.
Kef liked to ramble at the best of times, and now was decidedly
not the best of times. She grabbed her purse and slung
it over her shoulder and hurried from her cluttered workstation,
leaving her article hanging mid sentence.
It would have to wait until tomorrow.
Mr. Kef's door was cracked open, the frosted glass window listing
his title as Editor in Chief. Jinny peaked her head in, hoping
against hope that this would be quick.
How's that article on the hinky punk infestation going?
Kerf asked without looking up from today's copy of The
Prophet. Harry Potter's face stared back
at her, smiling for the camera as he shook Minister
Shacklebolt's hand. Great.
Jinny said, fighting back a scowl.
She wasn't able to ignore the title of the article.
Potter does it again. Dark Wizards apprehended no
fatalities. You'll have it done by press
time tomorrow. Absolutely, Jinny said, lying
through her teeth. She would have to come into work
early to finish it, which would mean dropping James off very
early at the borough. Damn it.
Good, he said, turning the page of the paper.
And make sure it's been edited this time.
Lymus had to go over your copy twice last week to fix typos.
Jinny gritted her teeth. Will do, she said.
Go ahead now, though, those ministry classes start tonight.
Kuf snorted. That tosh, he said.
Waste of the ministry's time if you ask me.
You don't say see you tomorrow Mr. Kuf, She said and ducked out
of the doorway before he could respond.
She half walked, half jogged across the news floor, her low
heels clacking along as she went.
She should be grateful for this job.
After unceremoniously quitting her chaser position with the
Harpies mid season last year, it had been exceedingly difficult
to find work. Horace Sloughhorn had helped her
get on at the Prophet. Barnabas Cuff was a proud Slug
Club graduate and was always willing to do a favour for his
old professor. He had been very enthused to
hire Ginny Potter. He had been less enthused to
learn that Ginny Potter no longer existed.
It was back to Ginny Weasley, Not nearly as good of a find,
though neither Cuff nor Slough Horn would say it outright.
The divorce had been barely six months old at that point, and
James newly out of diapers. She hadn't been able to keep
playing Quidditch, though she had tried.
She needed something with consistent hours, a real 9 to 5
for James's sake. Harry had graciously agreed to
pay the breach of contract fee that she had incurred by
quitting mid season. Of course he had.
That was the good and righteous thing to do.
So of course the great and good Harry Potter had done it and
encouraged her to move back with her parents, which Jinny had
staunchly refused to do. That was like going backwards,
and Jinny was going forwards, damn it, even if it was a little
rocky sometimes, or a lot rocky a lot of the time.
She shuffled into the elevator quickly, trying to fix her hair.
This whole thing was ridiculous. The Ministry's mandate had come
down at the beginning of the summer, decreeing that all pure
bloods would be required to take a series of Muggle Studies
courses in order to eliminate potential bias against Muggles
and Muggle bones. It didn't matter that the Second
Wizarding War ended 12 years ago.
It didn't matter that Ginny Weasley had fought for the
winning side and was the descendant of the biggest bunch
of blood traitors in Britain and grew up with a father who was
absolutely obsessed with Muggles.
None of that was enough to get her out of class.
She had already tried. She had also tried the divorced
working single mum line, but Shackebot hadn't been
interested. He had laughed her off and told
her to leave James with Harry, as though that was actually a
viable solution at all. It wasn't that Harry wasn't a
good dad, she mused as the elevator began its rickety
descent. He was a very good dad, the dad
he had always wanted and never had.
But he was also an aura. A very famous, very celebrated
aura. He had quickly climbed the
Ministry ranks, both due to natural talent and an already
stellar reputation as a dark wizard catcher, and was making
headlines every other week apprehending some criminal or
other. While he had always shield away
from fame in his youth, now that the fame was mostly based on his
own achievements rather than on his connection to Voldemort, he
basked in it. And he had earned it, people
would tell him, had earned the spotlight, the position and the
travelling all over the country and the thrill of the chase that
he and her brother Ron waxed poetic about at every family
gathering. It infuriated Ginny to no end.
She hurried out of the elevator, ducking under someone's arm as
she ran for the double glass doors leading out of the
building. They were technically supposed
to arrive to class through purely Muggle means, but Ginny
didn't have time for all of that.
She was already pushing it as it was, and the class was set to
start at 5:30. No, Harry and Ron got to be the
heroes while Jinny was left to deal with all the
practicalities, she thought as she ducked into a nearby alley.
Practicalities like raising a son and taking care of a
household and making sure the bills were paid on time and food
was on the table. And she stopped and made herself
take a deep breath. There was no sense in walking
into the class already in a tizzy.
It was stupid that she had to take it, but it was only 12
weeks, it would go by super fast, she was sure of it.
So she selected cooking for this first class, something she
already knew how to do quite well.
It should be a breeze, a walk in the bark, a cakewalk as the
muggles would say. Feeling more assured, she spun
on her heel, then apparated into the recreation centre where the
Ministry classes were being held.
Or rather, around the corner. From there.
She had to look as though she'd arrived by the tube, after all.
She entered the building, smiling tightly at the friendly
receptionist, and hurried down the hall.
Room 14, Room 14. She took a deep breath once she
found it, and then threw open the door.
There were a handful of people inside already, all a fair bit
older than her, and no one she knew, surprisingly.
That was good. Very good.
Maybe she could just be anonymous here, I say, Is that
Jinny Potter? One of them said in a very poor
stage whisper. No, Frank, they got divorced,
remember? A woman said in a hush, glancing
awkwardly at Jinny. Divorced from the Boy Who Lived.
Why I? Jinny scowled and hurried toward
the back of the group, away from the gossipers.
So much for being anonymous. The room was larger than it
looked from the outside, perhaps magically expanded, and had a
white board on one wall. There were no desks in the
middle like 1 might expect in a classroom.
Instead, there were workstations in two long rows, set up like a
miniature Mughal kitchen. It reminded Ginny a bit of the
Potions classroom set up at Hogwarts, though the amount of
technology in here was certainly foreign to her.
She had seen a number of these things before, like there that
was a toaster, she was pretty sure, but had she used them
herself? Not so much.
A middle-aged boarding man walked through the door and
waved A cheerful hello to the group.
He was carrying a brown leather folio and had a sweater vest on
that reminded Jenny of her dad when he wore muggle clothing.
It was comforting. Good evening class, he said.
Welcome to your first lesson of Muggle cooking.
My name is Robert Gresnick and I will be your instructor for this
course. The door opened again and
Janie's eyes could have bulged out of her head.
Malfoy, he can't be in this class.
I apologise for my lateness, Sir.
He said, inclining his head towards Mr. Gresnick.
I was held up with another meeting and was delayed in
setting out. That's quite all right, we're
just getting started. Mr. Gresnick said and waved him
in. Malfoy's voice had deepened some
from their school days, and he stood maybe just a hair taller
than Jinny remembered. He was dressed smartly in hunter
green robes, and his hair was perfectly quaffed, not a single
bit out of place. Jinny self consciously ran a
hand through her own hair, aware of its frizz.
Malfoy joined the group, sparing her barely a glance before
looking straight ahead at their instructor.
Jinny huffed and did the same. Of all people that could have
been in this class, She should have expected more Slytherins,
honestly, but she thought she'd got unlucky.
Malfoy, of all people. She had heard precious little
about Draco and Malfoy since the war ended, she realized after a
moment. Harry had testified at his
trial, of course. The good and righteous thing to
do, and he avoided any prison time, But he had seemed to drop
off the proverbial map after that.
Probably hold up in his manner, if Jinny had to guess.
If she had a manner, that's what she would have done.
Stayed out of the spotlight. And just what did one even do?
In a manner? She shook her head, forcing
herself to pay attention to Mr. Gresnick, who was outlining the
structure of the class the first week.
They wouldn't be truly cooking at all, he would just be
introducing them to the insurance and outs of the muggle
kitchen and making sure their technique was up to par.
After that, each week would focus on a different dish,
culminating in a final project of their own choosing.
Mondays would be instruction day, learning the technique and
any associated muggle technology needed to execute the dish.
Wednesdays they would be duplicating Mr. Gresnik's
example dish, and Fridays be their turn to present their own
take on it. Anything related to the core
concept was fair game, so long as they didn't use magic to
prepare it. Sounds straightforward.
A cakewalk, just like I was saying earlier.
Now. Mr. Greznick said, pulling out a
sheet of paper from his folio. For your partner assignments.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no. Genevra Weasley, Andrea
Cormalvoy. You'll be at Workstation 3.
Fucking hell. Malfoy, to his credit, showed no
reaction and Milly walked over to their assigned workstation.
Jinny. Followed after a minute in a
huff. Malfoy, this was going to be a
nightmare. I didn't expect to see you here,
Weasley, he said, his eyes still facing forward.
He had his hands in his robe pockets, casual as could be.
Likewise, she said. Don't you have households to do
all your cooking for you? I'd be surprised if you ever
even used a stove before. All the more reason to learn,
right? He didn't rise to the bait.
That was annoying. My households do deserve at
least some time off once in a while, he continued.
Once she didn't respond, I. Can.
Fend for myself once every few months or so.
Jinny opened her mouth, a furious retort on her lips, but
Mr. Gresnick had already started his lecture.
Pay attention now, we will get us both in trouble and I can't
handle that kind of pressure on my sterling reputation, Malfoy
said. Oh yes, I'm sure I'm the one
tarnishing your reputation, she hissed.
I shouldn't even be in this stupid glass anyway.
Oh. And I should be, he retorted,
some bite finally coming to his stone former.
Death Eaters only, right? Couldn't Potter pull some
strings and get you out of this class?
If it's so distasteful to you, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Weasley, It's
Ms. Ginny said, her voice going shrill.
Like her mother, she realised embarrassingly.
Ms. Weasley, Mr. Gresnick said in a patient tone.
Is there? Something you'd like to share
with the class? Ginny.
Flushed. No, Sir.
Then please. Do not talk while I am talking.
Yes, Sir. She and Malfoy stood near each
other in tense, uncomfortable silence for the rest of the
class as Mr. Gresnick lectured ad nauseam on how to turn on a
stove, how to turn on an oven, how to use a microwave, all
things Ginny already knew. When he got to.
The importance of using oven mitts.
She had to force herself not to cover her face in her hand.
Now. Remember, class, I'll be
expecting you to be able to use all of these appliances.
Yes, not applications. That's something different.
Mr. Chorley, on your own starting next week.
So Wednesday and Friday this week will be a great time to ask
questions. Yes, Sir, the class chorused.
All right then, class dismissed. Malfoy moved so fast, you would
think. Lightning had struck him.
He hurried over to Mr. Gresnick's podium and was
speaking to him in a low, serious whisper.
Mr. Gresnick listened, but Jinny could tell by the look on his
face that he didn't like what he was hearing.
Probably asking to switch partners, Jinny thought
bitterly. Of course.
Why would he want to be partnered with me anyway?
Good riddance. She couldn't, however, shake the
lingering feeling of nonsensical hurt as she left the classroom.
Her head bowed. Week 2, July 15th, 2009.
Mr. Gresnik, much to Ginny and Malfoy's displeasure, did not
let them switch partners. The first week passed without
major incident, though Ginny was strongly of the opinion that the
hand mixers were invented in hell and a wooden spoon worked
just fine for all her mixing needs.
Why did it have to spin so bloody fast?
Tonight, though, they would be actually cooking for the first
time. Ginny.
Grimaced as Mr. Gresnik walked them through his contest winning
roasted tomato soup recipe. They would.
Need an oven, the stove and a blender and it seemed like there
was the potential to get messy. She pulled her hair up into a
bun as he spoke. She had learned her lesson the
first night and had brought different shoes to change into.
No sense standing around in her heels for hours.
All right, class, you have your instructions and all the
ingredients you need are in the pantry, Mr. Gresnik said, a
hopeful smile on his face. I understand that this is your
first attempt, so I'm not expecting perfection, just a
good solid effort. Maybe.
Gresnik knows Slughorn too, Ginny thought as she squatted
down to change into her trainers.
He took that line right out of his mouth.
I'll go get the ingredients. Malvoy.
Said and promptly walked away from her toward the palm tree to
be the back of the classroom. Jinny.
Frowned. He had not been late since the
first day, and while he occasionally quipped back to her
when she said something snarky, he had yet to cause any real
chaos. Nothing.
Like the Malfoyer of Hogwarts era, she had hadn't been in
class with him in school since they were in different years,
but she had. Heard the horror stories.
Poor Neville had barely survived potions due to a combination of
Snape and Malfoy. She would.
Have to be on her guard. She needed to pass this stupid
class. They weren't free despite being
compulsory, and it had taken a chunk of Jinny's savings to pay
for this one. Could she have asked Harry to
pay for it? Sure.
Would she? Ask Harry to pay for it or.
Merlin forbid pay for a repeat over her dead body.
Malfoy. Could afford unlimited repeats
if he so desired, but Ginny needed this to go right the
first time. Malfoy came back with a large
basket of ingredients, the most abundant of which were tomatoes.
He plopped the basket down on their workstation and moved to
the sink to wash his hands. If you want to pre eat the oven,
I'll start the tomatoes, he said.
Sure, she said. She looked down at the oven and
frowned. This one was rather more high
tech than the more simplistic model she had briefly attempted
to use in her flat. Did you forget how Malfoy?
Asked to laugh in his voice. No.
She snapped. I just click the on button.
That was the usual answer with Muggle things, wasn't it?
You weren't paying attention to Gresnik at all, were you?
Malfoy said, definitely laughing now.
There's no. On.
Button you hit bake and then type the temperature you want.
I know. That, she said, jamming her
finger into the button that said bake.
That's what I meant, sure. Weasley.
He said as he pulled out a cutting board and knife.
It's 2. 100° I know and I'm just double checking, he said,
contrary to his. Word Malfoy did not immediately
start on tomatoes. He placed the tomatoes near the
cutting board, along with a head of garlic and onion and some
basil leaves, and was now pulling.
Out what Mr. Gresney could called a Dutch oven.
Not at all related. To the oven they were using,
oddly, a baking dish, a blender and several measuring spoons.
Stalling for time? Ginny asked.
Nice on. Place, he said, Bless you, he.
Laughed. It's French, it means everything
in its place. It's better to get everything
out and prepared before you start something.
Gresnik said that you were apparently not paying attention
to. How did you pass your OWLS if
you were this bad of a listener? Well, have you know I passed?
All my owls, thank you very much, Jinny said hotly, scooting
past him to wash her own hands. But 15 year old Jinny had the
luxury of a relatively uncluttered brain, which 28 year
old Jinny decidedly does not. Why the hell had she?
Just said that out loud. All the more reason.
For Mison Plus, Malfoy said. Blithely, he poured out a bit of
oil into the baking dish and began spreading it around.
It takes more time. Upfront, but makes everything
smoother when you're actually cooking when.
You have a screaming 5 year old and it's already 7:30.
You need to get food on the table now, Jinny said, grabbing
a knife of her own. There really were a lot of
tomatoes You don't have time for whatever it was you said.
Sure. When you have a.
Wand and you can just summon whatever it is you've forgotten,
Malfoy said. Slicing into a tomato and then
cutting it into quarters if you're doing.
It the. Muggle way and figure out you've
forgotten something halfway through.
You're screwed. Yeah, because.
I'm sure you have much experience with doing things the
Muggle way, Ginny. Said.
Grimacing as she cut into her own tomato and it's juices got
all over her hands. No, I.
Just pay attention in class, he said, and immediately started
laughing as Ginny scowled. Sorry, sorry.
I'll shut up and quarter tomatoes now, Ginny.
Scowled did not dissipate, but she remained silent and focused
on the task at hand. Or.
Sort of focused on the task at hand, she and.
Harry had. Quarrelled yesterday about
sending James to Quidditch camp before school started in the
fall. Harry, of course, saw no
problems with it and had impulsively already promised
James he could go, but didn't take into account Ginny's work
schedule or the extra burden that would put on her parents to
go drop him off and pick it up. And not to mention the expense
of the uniform. And Merlin's beard Weasley.
Did those tomatoes? Offend you or something?
Ginny shook her head. Coming back to awareness of the
present and saw that she had indeed mangled her tomato.
It was. Almost.
Totally squished, she sighed before tossing it in the bin.
I'll go get another one, Malfoy said in a long-suffering voice.
What do you mean? Ginny said.
Well, you have a tonne right here.
The recipe calls for 15 large tomatoes.
Ginny stared at him. That's just.
A. Suggestion to make sure you get
enough. If something in the recipe is a
suggestion, it is listed as optional, he said with a
wrinkle. Of his nose like.
Red pepper flakes and the basil, Those are optional.
Now it was Jinny's. Turn to laugh, but mouthful.
It's soup. Who cares if we have 14 or 15 or
even, Merlin forbid, 16 tomatoes. close enough, right?
Hardly, he said, disdain in his voice.
I don't know what marks you've got in potions, but I'll have
you know I got an outstanding, which certainly qualifies you to
make soup. Apparently, Jinny said.
I've been making soups with my mum since I was three.
I think I know what's important and what's not.
The exact quantity of tomatoes is not important for this, I
promise. Seeing as you couldn't.
Be bothered to pay attention to our instructor.
I'm not sure you're qualified to make that assessment, Malfoy
said, sounding more and more like he had at school.
We're supposed to be replicating his dish, after all.
Now I'm going to go get another tomato so that we can do this
thing properly. He left.
And once Jinny was sure his back was turned, she grabbed another
tomato and tossed it in the bin. Pompous Pratt.
Jinny continued to quarter and deseed tomatoes once Malfoy came
back and he started mincing garlic very precisely, Jinny
noticed. He leaned over the cutting board
as he worked, moving the knife quickly but methodically to make
a fine mince. OK, so maybe potion skills do
help a little, she thought, begrudgingly taking a leaf out
of his book. She took a deep breath and made
herself focus, really focus on the tomatoes.
They almost smelled a little sweet.
They would taste delicious once they were roasted and pureed for
soup. The.
Oven chimed. Just as she finished the final
tomato, indicating that it had reached temperature perfect.
Malfoy said. He grabbed A measuring cup and
began pouring oil into it, which made Jinny laugh.
What? He said, raising an eyebrow at
her. You're funny, She said.
I would never measure oil that I'm just going to drizzle over
tomatoes. It says 1/4 cup.
Ginny laughed again, making Malfoy scowl.
I get that. You.
Think this class is a joke, He said with a snare.
But some of us need to pass the first time around, Ginny scarfed
in outrage. Me.
You're the one who? I'm the one who what paid
attention during the lecture, followed the instructions of the
assignment, actually bothered to care, He angrily tossed.
The minced garlic into the oil and stirred it a bit and then
poured it over the tomatoes in the baking dish.
He opened the oven. Door slid the baking dish
inside, closed it again, and then started clicking the
buttons of the oven. Maufoi.
These cook for about. 15 minutes, he said.
If you care about this class, can you please chop the onion
while we wait? The obstinate.
Part of Jinny, which was really a very large part, wanted to
refuse, but she knew that that was petty in the extreme and
would only. Prove.
Malfoy's point. Incensed, she grabbed the onion,
roughly cut it in half and started to peel it.
I also need to pass this class first time around, she said with
a sniff. So if we can just work together,
that would be lovely. You won't.
Catch me complaining? Jinny said.
Nothing. Sure that anything she did say
would start another fight, she chopped the onion in sullen
silence, the liquid from it stinging her eyes.
Didn't mean to make. You cry, Weasley, Malfoy said
with a smirk. Yeah, well, it wouldn't.
Be the first time, she muttered her mind.
Flashed. On him teasing her during her
first year for having a crush on Harry.
This. Smirk fell.
I'm. Sorry about that, for whatever
it was, I'm sure I was an asshole.
Doesn't matter now. It was.
A long time ago, Jinny said. Firmly.
Not interested in opening up a conversation that would surely
lead to another fight? Onions done.
Great, that's. Everything chopped then, and
I'll wash up. He edged past.
Her to grab the knife she had set down and she caught a whiff
of his Cologne it. Was sharp and.
Piney like mountain air. It smelled nice, refreshing.
Good Lord, I need to get lady if I think Malfoy if all people
smells good it had. Been a while.
She was a mum, she couldn't just bring random men home.
It wasn't safe and really even before the divorce.
She had married Harry. When she was only 19 and looking
back, that was far too young. Far too young to know what she
wanted, and more importantly, what she didn't want.
What did a 19 year old know about the ways of the world,
even one who had lived through a war?
Could a younger Ginny have anticipated arguing about
Quidditch camp prices? And who exactly was responsible
for scheduling James's well, visits at Saint Mungo's?
Certainly not. Malfoy was steadily washing
dishes. I could help.
I've got it. Thanks though only one sink, it
might be tough to share space. She briefly imagined.
Sidling up next to him anyway and shook her head.
I definitely need to get laid. Soon the 15.
Minutes was done, and determined to be helpful this time, Jinny
grabbed oven mitts and removed the baking dish from the oven.
The tomatoes smelled absolutely divine, the outsides were
charred in places, and the skins had wrinkled right up thanks to
the heat. Now.
Comes the messy part, Malfoy said.
Wrinkling his nose, peeling them.
We have to let them cool first, Jinny said.
They're too hot. Malfoy glanced at the recipe.
So. We do so, says the.
Recipe and so says common sense, when had Malfoy become such a
rule follower she. Glanced around.
At the other workstations and saw people in various states of
distress trying to chop ingredients and use the oven.
One man looked as though he'd never held a knife before, which
left Jinny baffled. We have an.
Advantage, Malfoy said. Following her gaze being
younger. We still remember what it is
like to not be permitted to use magic for everything.
I bet he hasn't shopped anything by hand in 20 years.
It's easy to get. Lazy, I suppose, Jinny said.
Uncomfortable to be referred to as we.
Yes, he agreed, but doing things manually has its advantages.
Like what? She said, glancing at him.
No loss of skill, for one thing. No having people stare at you in
class for another. Embarrassed Jenny.
Turned back to their own workstation, hoping the man
hadn't noticed her watching him. She wouldn't want to be watched
like that. How had it come to where Malfoy
was the one scolding her for being rude?
Peeling the. Tomatoes was as messy as she
feared. Her hands were covered in tomato
juice by the time they were done, and though she had been
careful, her palms were quite warm from the tomato's heat.
Malfoy, who was standing about a foot away from her, was in a
similar state, though the scent of his Cologne was strong enough
that she smelled that over the tomatoes.
All right, I think we're ready to actually start cooking now.
He said, moving to the sink to wash his hands once again.
Do you? Want to saute the onions or
shall I either way? Ginny said.
I don't, she had been about to say.
She. Didn't care, but then they had
already argued about that. Would that start another fight?
I can. Do it, he said.
Just add the other ingredients once I give the go ahead, yeah.
Ginny nodded. And.
Traded places with him to wash her hands, then stepped back to
watch him work. He.
Methodically. Added two tablespoons of oil to
the Dutch oven, turned the heat on the stove to a medium high,
and after maybe 30 seconds, use the knife to slide the chopped
onions into the pot. Are you this precise with
everything you do? She asked before she could stop
herself. He glanced over his shoulder at
her as he stirred the onions. For the things that.
Require precision, yes, he said. Aren't you?
Jinny said nothing. The truth was, Jinny's life had
always been sort of loosely controlled chaos.
Life at the borough was six brothers, a muggle loving
father, a harried but well meaning mother, half a dozen
chickens, a ghoul, and a small army of gnomes had been such a
flurry of activity that Jinny had never known anything
different. Hogwarts.
With all its. Various demands had been the
same. Life with Harry before.
James had been relatively calm, although his aura training and
her budding Quidditch career had put a strain on their time.
And then? After.
James, Well after James, any second that wasn't chaos was a
relief. He would give the twins a run
for their money when he got older, she was sure.
Come. Check these onions, he said.
The recipe says until tender, but that's a little imprecise
for my taste, She snorted before walking up to the stove and
looking at the onions standing right next to him.
Maybe another minute, she said. How can you tell they'll be
more? Translucent.
When they're done, he. Nodded.
Be ready. With the tomatoes, Jinny.
Bit back. A retort about him being bossy
and then waited for his go ahead.
She grabbed the bowl of peeled tomato quarters and dumped them
into the pot. Some of them splattered as it
landed and splashed them both. Watch it, Weasley.
He said, wiping off a bit of tomato off his face.
See, This is why I'm precise. Otherwise you make a mess.
Merlin. Forbid.
Jinny said with a roll of her eyes before glancing at the
recipe. 2 cups of water and some salt and the red pepper flakes.
She grabbed the measuring. Cup and began filling it with
water as Malfoy glanced over at the recipe and glared at her.
1A. Teaspoon of salt, not some of
salt my. Mistake, she said sardonically
as she poured 1 cup of water into the pot, then filled the
cup again and poured that in. You can salt to taste, you know,
or we can follow the recipe. Jinny pinched the bridge of her
nose before taking a deep breath.
Or we can follow the recipe, yes.
Malfoy laughed. Compromise.
Not too familiar in your world. It was Jinny's turn.
To glare. It's not compromise if I'm just
doing what the other person says.
It made her think of Harry and put her in an absolutely foul
mood as Malfoy added salt and red pepper flakes, then gave the
pot a stir and turned the heat all the way up.
I suppose not, He agreed, surprising her.
How shall we compromise then? Jinny stared at.
Him trying to figure out what the trick was.
What was his angle? How about?
This, He said. Once this boils, we can leave it
alone for 30 minutes, according to the recipe.
I'll do the. Dishes.
While we wait. And after that, it's your game.
I'll follow your lead. Yeah, after that.
Meant using the blender, which Ginny was definitely not looking
forward to. But she wasn't.
About to tell Malfoy that sounds.
Good to me, she said. The blender is the most
complicated part. He smirked at her sounds.
Like it He started washing the. Dishes once again while they
waited for the pot to boil and Ginny found herself watching his
hands. He was methodical.
Even here, making slow, deliberate circles with the
sponge as he washed, it was peaceful earth to.
Jinny, he said, making her jump. What She said.
I was asking if you couldn't turn the heat down on the soup
and put the lid on it. It's boiling now.
Oh. Yes, sorry.
She hurried forward and did as he said, keeping her eyes away
from him. What the hell was wrong with
her? Malfoy put the.
Last dish in the dish rack and looked at their workstation
before giving a satisfied nod. Almost.
Done, he said. Good work.
Thanks you 2, she said, nonplussed.
Now they had 30 minutes to. Wait and.
Do nothing, apparently. She rustled in her bag for her
parchment and quill, hoping to make use of this time to write
up some pictures for new articles for Cuff.
He. Always had her covering such
boring topics. Maybe if she wrote a really good
article he would let her move to the sports section like she
wanted. Working on an.
Article. He asked, leaning back against
the unused workstation behind them.
You know I work for the. Prophet.
She asked, raising an eyebrow. Seeing as I read the Prophet,
yes, I do, he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
You must read it cover. To cover then, if you've noticed
my articles, she said, again, against her better judgement, I.
Like to be. Thorough as well as precise, he
said, not taking the opportunity to mock her poor prospects like
she thought he might. She glanced at him.
Just as polished and tidy as he had been the first day of class.
You're. Different from how I remember
you at school. Are you calling me sloppy,
Weasley? He said with a smirk.
She laughed in spite of herself. No, you're just significantly
less of an arsehole than I remember.
His smirk fell. And he looked away.
Yeah, well, people change. They grow up.
I suppose they do, she said, not sure what else to say.
An awkward silence. Fell over them and Jinny tried
and failed to come up with innovative, interesting ideas
for new articles. Had she offended?
Malfoy. Somehow he had been kind and
joking to her until until she brought up the past.
Maybe she wasn't the only one sick of being compared to who
they were in 1998. Soon the 30.
Minutes were up and Malfoy looked at her expectantly.
Her turn to take the lead and use the blender.
She took a deep breath. And nodded to herself.
Turning on the stove, she grabbed A measuring cup and
scooped out some of the soup, which really did smell delicious
at this point, and poured it into the blender.
She. Did that several.
Times before she put the lid on the blender and plugged it in
Weasley. Wait.
Malfoy said, taking a step forward, but Jinny had already
pushed the puree button, just as Mr. Gresnik had instructed.
The lid burst. Off the top of the blender and
hot, steaming, chunky tomato soup splattered everywhere,
including all over Jinny. She cried out, shocked, and
Malfoy rushed forward to turn off the blender.
Are you? OK, you knew that was going.
To happen, Jinny cried, irate. What?
He snapped. No, I didn't.
Everyone was. Watching just as he had
intended, probably furious tears filled Ginny's eyes as she
reached for her bag. You let me do that part because
you knew I would fuck it up and embarrass myself, she said.
Hilarious, I'm sure. Well, I'm done for the night.
You can clean up yourself. Miss Weasley.
Mr. Gresnick started, but Ginny was already halfway out the
door, still covered in soup. Fuck this stupid class and fuck
Draco Malfoy for lulling her into a false sense of security.
Why did everything in her life have to be such a complete God
damn mess? Week. 9 Monday, August 31st,
2009. The weeks passed.
In a blur after the disastrous tomato soup incident, Ginny and
Malvoy both gave stiff apologies that they didn't mean and
proceeded through class with the utmost formality.
They were mostly successful in their cooking endeavours, though
Malfoy's rigid adherence to the recipe as written drove Ginny up
the wall. They had made Margherita.
Pizza. The dough had been nearly as
disastrous as the soup, but Ginny had held her temper that
time. A mushroom risotto, which Ginny
had grudgingly admitted Malfoy excelled at.
Spaghetti Bolognese, which had been absolutely delicious and
Ginny's favorite. As well as a fish dish, a
chicken dish and a classic Sunday roast.
They were entering the final quarter of the class and Jinny,
for one, couldn't wait for it to be over, not least because her
life was about to get a lot busier.
Did you brush your? Teeth, yes, James said with a
definitive nod. Are you telling a fib?
Jinny asked, scrambling around the kitchen to grab everything
she needed for the day. Maybe.
James said, making Jinny groan. Teeth now.
Or we're going to be late. James giggled and rushed off to
the bathroom. Jinny.
Watched him. Go not able to be angry with him
for long, she couldn't believe that he was starting school
already. This whole thing would be new
for the both of them. Muggle primary school had been
one of the few things Jinny and Harry had been able to agree on
in their divorce decree. Harry liked the idea that James
would get lots of muggle exposure, just like he did in
his youth, and Ginny liked the idea of James being among peers
who had never heard the name Harry Potter before.
It would keep him grounded. Ginny, however.
Had been home schooled before Hogwarts, so signing up for
muggle school and getting James there on time in uniform with
the right supplies was a hurdle she'd never navigated herself.
Every time she complained about it to mum she would just tut and
say Jinny should let her teach James herself, which was not
helpful in the slightest. OK, now my teeth are brushed.
James said coming around the corner.
Jinny smiled at him. She had to admit he looked
absolutely adorable in his red polo shirt and khaki trousers, a
mini Gryffindor in the making. OK then, let's get going.
She said. She knelt down and extended her
arms to him, inviting him forward for her to hold for
apparition. Mummy, he said.
Before. Taking a step forward, I'm
scared of going to school. Why, darling?
Jinny asked, reaching out, took up his face with one hand.
I know it's new, but you're going to have so much fun.
You're going to meet so many new friends and learn lots of new
and interesting things. There's just one rule.
Remember, don't talk about magic, he said.
He looked so much like Harry here that it made her heart
hurt. His eyes were the same honey
brown as her own, but otherwise he was the spitting image of his
father. That's right, she said.
Do you remember why Muggles aren't supposed to know about
magic? He said.
They don't understand it. That's right, Jinny said with a
relieved breath. I promise you're going to have a
good time, OK? I'm going to walk you to your
class and meet your teacher, and I'll be there to pick you up
when the day's over, and then I get to go to Grandma and
Grandpa's house? He asked.
Yes, she said. I have class tonight too, but
after that we can do story time. Does that sound good?
James, who was already a voracious reader thanks to his
aunt Hermione, embraced her. Her heart squeezed as she kissed
the top of his head, picked him up and spun on her heel to
operate around the corner from his school.
That tickles my. Tummy.
James said with a giggle. Oh, it does.
Does it? Jinny asked.
Before. Tickling his stomach for real
and turning his giggles into loud but still adorable
screechers. How about this?
She glanced down at her watch and her stomach dropped.
They were almost certainly going to be late.
OK, James, let's hurry now. She said, putting him down and
grabbing his small hand in hers. We can't be late on your first
day, right? Jinny was not the.
Only parent arriving late. There was an absolute crush of
people entering the small campus, and Jinny felt
immediately overwhelmed. They all seemed to know exactly
where to go, like a million worker bees all flying to their
destination. And Jinny was on an island,
lost. She looked around.
Determined to figure it out, and her eyes alighted on a
shockingly familiar figure. What the fuck?
What in Merlin's name was Draco Malfoy doing here?
Dressed in Muggle clothes with a gaggle of laughing school
children around him, He. Was laughing too.
More carefree than she had ever seen him.
His eyes met, hers widened, just for a moment, and then he
extricated himself from the group.
Or tried to. Anyway, a couple of children
followed behind him like he was a mother duck.
Oh bloody hell, why is he coming over here?
Cheers to running. Into you in unexpected places,
Miss Weasley, he said, nodding. At her.
What are you doing here? She asked, doing her best to
keep the suspicion out of her tone.
I work here. He said, and he tapped the badge
pinned to his sweater that Jinny hadn't noticed before.
Draco Malfoy, year three. You you work here.
Jinny asked. Looking around with with muck.
Yep. He interrupted, shooting her a
meaningful glance. This is my sixth year here.
I teach year 3, but you seem a tad too young for year 3, I
believe. He squatted down.
To what was eye level with James, who was watching him with
wide eyes. What's your name?
He asked in a. Kind voice, James Sirius Potter.
James said, glancing up at Ginny and then back at Malfoy.
Well. James serious Potter, you look.
Ready. For your first day of.
Reception. Malvoy commented, and James
nodded his head in agreement. But mummy doesn't know the way
to the classroom. He said, making Ginny flush.
That's. OK, it's her first day too,
Malvoy said. I'll show you both.
Miss Peterson is really nice, you'll like her, OK?
James said, not leaving room for Ginny to protest.
Alex, you 2 go ahead to. Class, he told the two children
with him. I'll be.
Right there. Can you tell the other students
to wait for me? Yes, Mr. Malfoy.
They. Chorused before running off.
Jinny was so thrown. Off that, she couldn't.
Even think of anything to say as Malfoy LED them deeper into the
campus and finally stopped in front of a classroom, he
introduced them to Miss Peterson, who indeed did seem
very kind, and whom James took to immediately.
She was so kind, in fact, that. She seemed.
To be quite friendly with Malfoy.
No animosity at all. He showed no signs of disdain.
Or. Disgust while speaking to her
and even laughed at her jokes. Draco Malfoy.
Genuinely. Interacting with Muggles, Draco
Malfoy working at a Muggle school.
It didn't make sense. Jinny kissed James on the head.
As they said their. Goodbyes.
He was much less nervous now, and eager to go inside the
classroom, where she could hear other children laughing.
Soon, she and Malfoy were alone. See you tonight then.
He said after a moment and turned to walk away.
Presumably toward his own classroom.
Wait, Jinny blurted. He stopped and looked over his
shoulder at her. I don't understand, she said.
Perhaps I'll explain it to you some time.
He said. But right now I'm going to be
late to class and I presume you are about to be late for work,
so it'll have to wait see. You Weasley.
And with that, he walked off. Jinny fought the urge to chase
him down and demand answers, knowing that it would make her
look like a crazy person in front of all these muggles.
And he was right. She.
Was going to be late. For work.
She let out a frustrated hoof and hurried off campus, her mind
full of Draco Malfoy and laughing children.
The work day. Passed in a fog.
Jinny got precious little done on her.
Article. About the Ministry's new
regulations on classy potion ingredients.
And Mr. Kerf had shouted at her for over 1/4 of an hour.
She promised to do better, but her mind drifted as soon as she
was back at her desk. Draco Malfoy.
Taught Muggle. School children, small Mughal
school children, small Mughal school children who actually
seemed to like him, and he apparently had been doing so for
six whole years. She couldn't wrap her brain
around it. And she was still.
Lost in thought, she picked up an ecstatic James from school
who had nothing but positive things to say about Miss
Peterson and his first day. She glanced around for Malfoy,
but he was nowhere to be seen. Had she hallucinated him this
morning? Was she that sleep deprived?
And you have a friend here? Too, Mummy.
James said as they walked around the corner.
I do? Jinny asked.
Mr. Malfoy. He said he's your friend, right?
He, I am. Yes, he's my friend, Jinny said,
having no idea how to explain the nuances of her relationship
with Malfoy to A5 year old. She quickly apparated away with
James and dropped him off at the Burrow, where her parents were
ecstatically waiting to hear about his first day, and
apparated again to the recreation centre.
She arrived, as luck would have it, exactly at the same time as
Malfoy. He had changed into wizard
robes, looking every bit as posh as the world would expect him to
and not at all like a Mughal school teacher.
Fancy seeing you here, He said. Holding the door to the building
open for. Her, you changed your clothes,
she said as she walked inside. I did indeed, he said.
Good observation. Why I think this colour brings
out my eyes. Jinny huffed as they approached
the classroom. Be serious.
He looked at her, pausing. Before the classroom.
Door How do you think the people in there would?
React to seeing me in Muggle clothes with a Muggle briefcase
with the school's name on the side.
Rather like you did, don't you think?
Ginny flushed. I prefer to.
Blend in in a crowd. He said.
We share that in common, I think, so I present how people
expect. It's easier that way.
He opened the door and seeing Mr. Gresnick.
Saw her. Ginny went inside, discomforted.
All right, class, we're. Officially in the.
Last quarter, Mr. Gresnick said. Great job making it this far.
You've all grown a lot and hopefully you've been enjoying
the class. Tonight we're going to be
focused on. Breakfast.
Foods. But before that, we should talk
about your final projects, your final week.
The recipe will be up to you and your partner.
You'll choose something challenging but doable for you
to make and present your final. Dishes on the last night of.
Class Don't be afraid to push your limits, both in terms of
the dish and the Mughal technology required to create
it. Remember, absolutely no magic
allowed. Consider your dish now and.
Ponder the. Idea of practising outside of
class. These dishes should really show
off. All the skills.
You've learned. Gresnick then began lecturing
about how to. Poach an egg.
And Ginny forced herself to pay attention, a point of contention
between her and Malfoy that she was tired of arguing over and
over again. Soon enough, the class was
ending. Did James have a good first day?
Malfoy asked as he began packing up his things.
He he did. Thanks for asking.
And thanks for showing us where to go, Jinny said.
No problem, he seems like. A sweet kid he is, though he.
Definitely has a spicy side too. He gets that from his mother.
And despite his health, Ginny. Laughed and.
Malfoy smiled a little. I have a million questions for
you, but perhaps my first one should be what we're going to
create for this final project, she said.
A million questions. He repeated.
Sounds like it would take me a while to answer them.
Answer number one, I'm open to ideas, but I do have to say I
make a killer chocolate souffle. You bake?
She asked. Raising.
Her eyebrows question #2 Yes. I bake and cook.
Incidentally, what about house elves?
You assumed, and I blended in with the crowd, Jinny
interrupted. He nodded.
Easier that way, Most of the time, he said.
Jinny looked at him, really looked at him.
He was perfectly poised in his clearly expensive robes, but he
had somehow looked so much more natural this morning.
I think chocolate souffle sounds great, she said cautiously.
And and and if you. Wanted to practice this weekend.
James is with Harry, so we could use my flat, she said in a rush
before she could second guess herself.
Malfoy, to his credit, took it in stride.
Sounds lovely, I'll bring the ingredients.
The 7:00 on Saturday. OK, having Malfoy over.
To her flat on a Saturday. Night.
Yep, sounds good, she said. He smiled at her.
Great. I'm looking forward to it.
Have a good night, Ginny. Ginny.
Not Weasley, Ginny, you too. She called after his retreating
back, ignoring the warmth in her cheeks.
Week 9, Saturday. September 5th, 2009.
Why the hell? Had she'd volunteered her flat.
For cooking practice with Malfoy, it was 645 and Jinny.
Was. Rushing around the space,
cleaning both magically and mechanically, tossing James's
toys into a nearby chest as a feather dust had cheerfully
glided along the tops of the bookcases.
It wasn't like the flat was dirty, exactly.
Jinny cleaned it at least twice a week, but between working 40
hours a week, parenting A rambunctious 5 year old, and
having three of her five week nights taken up by class, it was
looking lived in just picturing Malfoy's perfectly.
Quaffed. Hair, his elegant robes with
Neri A wrinkle walking in here made her want to break out in
hives. Part of her didn't care.
If Malfoy thought her flat. Was messy.
What did she care about his opinion anyway?
If he had anything rude to say. She would tell him to fuck off.
And send him packing, but apparently.
Some part of her did care. And that part of her had her
running around the flat in a whirlwind, arranging and
rearranging the pillows on the couch.
What was that stupid French? Phrase he said about.
Having things in their place at 6:56.
There was a knock at. The door.
Jinny jumped, waving her wand to dismiss the feather duster and
took a second to straighten her hair before opening the door.
Malfoy was there, his hair unstyled, wearing a hunter green
muggle T-shirt and holding a paper bag of groceries under one
arm. Hi, she said.
And come on in. Hi.
He said, smiling at her as she stepped.
Aside to let him in. Jinny fought back the
embarrassment as he took in her flat.
It was small, certainly smaller than grim old place where she
had lived with Harry and equally as shabby.
The kitchen, living room, and dining area were basically all
one room. Malfoy made no comment about it
as he walked further into the space and set the bag of
groceries on the kitchen counter.
Thanks for buying the ingredients.
She said, following him toward the kitchen.
It's only fair since you're providing the kitchen.
He said as he started pulling things out of the bag.
A package of eggs, followed by a bottle of vanilla extract and a
package of expensive looking baking chocolate.
I didn't know what you already had on.
Hand. So I just bought everything, he
continued, still not looking at her as he removed the package of
sugar and a container of butter from the bag.
Jinny squinted. Trying to decide if this was
meant as an insult about her financial situation, but his
tone was neutral and he didn't. Laugh.
So she let it go for the moment. Thanks, she said, not knowing
what else to say. Did you eat dinner already?
He asked. Crap.
In her cleaning frenzy, she had not, in fact, eaten dinner.
No, she said. Did you?
I ate a little while ago but. Maybe.
We'll have dessert for dinner. He said, smirking at her over
his shoulder and making Jinny's stomach do some stupid little
backflip that she instantly berated herself over.
What the hell is wrong with me? Malfoy was what was.
Wrong with her truth. Be told he had apparently
changed quite a lot in their years.
Away from school, which meant that she did not know how to
handle him. Or we can order something, I
suppose. He said, dart creeping into his
voice. When she didn't say anything,
she shook her head to clear it. No.
Dessert for dinner sounds great. Merlin knows I can't do that
during the week. He laughed, turning back to the
ingredients, apparently taking stock that he had everything.
I don't know. I don't think James would.
Object. My sanity would object.
He laughed again. Five year olds and sugar do.
Not mix. I only taught reception for one
year and that was enough for me. I prefer them when they're a
little older. Malfoy teaching 5 year olds.
This was too much. I'm still, she started, not sure
how to rephrase the thought. Surprised at how you've changed.
His motions slowed a bit as he folded the grocery bag up
neatly, not crumpling it as Jinny would have.
Most people are when. They find out, he said.
So I usually make it to. My business not.
To run into other people from before other people like her.
The memory of him speaking so urgently to Gresnik after their
first day in class flashed in her mind.
I'm sorry. She blurted.
He raised an eyebrow at her. Sorry for.
What? Sorry you had to be partnered
with me. His eyebrows shot up still.
Further. What?
She flushed. Anger.
Sparking in her. Stomach.
Don't pretend you were happy about it.
It's ours and a bunch of people over 50.
If I wasn't in there, you'd would get to be anonymous just
like you. Like you Haft.
Once again though, this one. Was crueler.
I don't think you get it Weasley.
I'm not anonymous anywhere I go in the wizarding world.
My trial was front page news. Or do you not remember that
people recognise me immediately and not for being some chosen
hero like your ex-husband Jinny Haft?
Your trial was 12. Years ago.
Surely people have forgotten about it.
And just like you had forgotten about it.
Forgotten that I was a Death Eater, that I took the Dark Mark
at 16, that I let terrorists into Hogwarts and ultimately led
to the murder of the beloved Elba Stumbledore.
No one has forgotten that, Weasley.
Trust me. And they won't.
And I knew that even at 18. So I left.
My father went to Azkaban, my mother ran away to our summer
home in France, and I went to Muggle university.
She stared at him. Colour had risen in his cheeks
and he was breathing slightly heavier.
She opened her mouth, not sure what she was going to say, but
an odd ringing noise interrupted them.
Malfoy looked down for a moment before pulling what Ginny was
pretty sure was a cell phone out of his jeans pocket.
Hey, he. Said as he put the phone.
To his ear. Not tonight, sorry.
Yeah, yeah, OK, see you Monday. He tapped the front of the
phone. Then pressed a button on its
side before putting it back in his pocket.
Sorry, he said. Turning to her again, I meant to
silence it when we got here, but I got distracted.
These Muggle Studies classes. Must feel downright insulting to
you, she said, making him laugh more genuinely again, A bit, he
said. I appreciate the idea.
Behind it, though, I'm sure it's beneficial for most pure bloods.
If it was actually fair, they would let you test out of it.
But you know, former Death Eater and all.
He shook his head, and it seemed as though.
He. Was.
Shaking off the past, she watched his broad shoulders
deliberately relax. All right, let's get started.
I have the recipe here. He pulled out the phone again
and began tapping away in your cell phone.
She asked. Incredulous, I think most people
say. On your phone, not in it.
But yes, I thought phones were for calling.
People. Like how you can with flu
powder? They are, but this is a.
Smartphone. They're kind of new, but they do
more things than just call people.
Like with this one, you can go on the Internet.
Ginny eyed it sceptically. She had never used the Internet
before. How does it work?
She asked. Come here.
I'll show you. She approached cautiously.
And peered over. His shoulder as he showed her
how to tap on the screen and move her finger on it so that it
would move up and down. And you can just find anything
you want to know this way? She asked, wondering if Hermione
knew about such things. She was muggle born shortly.
She had. Heard.
Of the Internet? Most anything, yes.
He said they call it Googling. You're pulling my leg, I swear
to Merlin. See Watch.
I'm going to Google chocolate souffle recipe and I already
have one pulled up but I'll open a new tab.
And he started tapping away faster than she could.
Follow and soon there was a long list of what appeared to be
chocolate souffle recipes. Wicked, she said, her eyes going
wide as she reached out to tap on the screen, though her
expression fell as nothing happened.
You have to click on the link. He said not.
Unkindly, see how this part is a different colour?
Tap that part She. Did and the appearance.
Of the phone changed into a smiling middle-aged woman
holding a bowl of chocolate cake batter.
That's a Muggle celebrity. He said Martha Stewart.
But let's use the. Recipe I already have.
I've tried it out a few times before and it's always come out
well. Do your parents know?
She asked, do my parents know what?
Do they know Martha Stewart? Definitely not.
Do they know how to make chocolate souffle?
Also probably not, although to be fair, I haven't asked.
Do they know you live like a Muggle?
He glanced at her. I wouldn't say I live like a
muggle. I still use magic all the time.
I just don't only use magic. But to answer your question, my
mother knows and pretends not to know, and my father has no idea,
and I intend to keep it that way.
That must be lonely. He stiffened a bit.
Not at all. I have friends both muggle and
magical and I'm busy during the week with work.
Who are your magical friends? Taking.
Roll Weasley. Just curious.
He was quiet for a minute as he swiped.
At his phone. Blaze knows, he said.
Blaze. Zubini, Yeah.
What does he think about it? He.
Thinks I'm barking mad. But he doesn't give me shit for
it so it works out fine most of the time.
What about a girlfriend? She asked or.
She glanced down at his ringless hand.
I've never been married, he said quickly.
I've had a few girlfriends, but nothing that serious.
He set his phone down on the. Counter and.
Moved to the small kitchen sink to wash his hands.
What about you, Miss Nosey? What about me?
She asked. You know a little about my life
now, or my life since school at least.
What about you? I'm sure you know it all
already. Since you read the Daily Profit
cover to cover, apparently that's not the same thing as
hearing. It from a real person.
Forgive me if I'm sceptical of any Skeeter articles.
Jinny blew out her breath. As he stepped away from the.
Sink and she took his place. There's not much to tell.
I got married at 19. Played chaser for the Harpies
and had James at 23. Got divorced at 26.
And started working for the prophet at 27.
When I'm not at work, I'm with James, either here or visiting
my parents or my brothers, or occasionally going to Luna's
house. She has twin boys close to James
age so they can play and when James is with Harry I'm doing
absolutely nothing relaxing. He suggested from your busy
week, I guess, she said. Embarrassed, but she wasn't sure
why everyone was shocked. When you quit the Harpies, he
commented. Making her grit her teeth.
Yeah, well, Gallivantin. All over the country isn't
practical when you're taking care of a toddler, and someone
needed to make the responsible decision.
Why, oh why did she say that out loud?
She angrily turned the sink off and dried her hands, not at all
in the mood for baking. She was in the mood for eating
ice cream straight out of the carton and holding up on the
couch alone. You're a good mother.
She stopped and looked at him. You barely know me.
You don't know that I can tell. You make a lot of sacrifices for
him, he said. Good parents put their children
ahead of themselves, even when it's hard.
You needn't know what to say to that.
She sighed and took a deep breath before saying let's make
this souffle. Then they worked together.
In mostly. Amicable silence, with Jinny
grudgingly allowing Malfoy to take the lead.
He'd made this recipe before. And clearly knew.
More about muggle technology than she did.
He handled microwaving, not macrowaving.
He corrected her the butter and chocolate while she separated
egg yolks from the whites. An absolutely disgusting task to
do without magic. This is so slimy.
She said, winkling her nose, making him laugh.
It is kind of gross. He agreed.
You really do this part without. Magic.
Sometimes I cheat a little. He said it's not normally a rule
to not use any magic at all. Figures, she said.
I can't imagine you getting messy.
He paused at that. Why so?
You always seem perfectly put together.
She said, flushing as she spoke, perfectly in control.
He stirred the chocolate and. Butter walking.
Closer to her, I value being in control.
Because I know what it takes to be out of control.
She looked up at him. Egg whites all.
Over her hands, surprised to find his eyes were already on
her face. His eyes seemed darker than
normal, and she found herself mildly surprised that she had
looked at his eyes enough to be able to tell the difference.
I'm always out of control. She whispered.
Why? Don't you take it then?
Take what? Take control?
A spark of anger. Surged through her.
Well, it's not exactly that easy, Malfoy.
And try to be in control all the damn time, and it never fucking
works. And so I'm always one disaster
away from. Without warning, without
preamble, he leaned down and kissed her.
His full lips pressed against hers, a faintest tint of mint on
his breath, and Jinny gasped in surprise when she didn't pull
away. Immediately.
He began to move. He gently slipped his tongue
into her mouth and his lips moved against hers.
Heat pulled in Jinny. 'S core and she.
Tentatively kissed him back, too aware of the ball he was still
holding and the egg whites all over her hands.
This was so surreal. That she almost couldn't.
Believe it was really happening. This was Malfoy.
He pulled back after a moment. Sorry, he said, a little
breathless. I guess I lost control.
For a second there too, I what? She mumbled.
Trying to wrap her head around the moment, he flushed and took
a step back, rapidly stirring the chocolate butter mixture.
Sorry, he said again. Looking down embarrassed.
Fuck that he. Said Take.
Control. So she was taking it.
Ignoring that her hands were covered in egg whites, she
closed the distance between them, grabbed both of his cheeks
and kissed him firmly. It was his turn to gasp in.
Surprise. But he recovered quickly.
She felt, rather than saw him put the ball down on the counter
before reaching up to tangle his hands in her hair.
He pressed his body against hers, backing her up a step.
The kitchen, small as it was, made it so that even taking one
step back had her pressed up against the cabinets.
He felt firm against her, and she shivered at the pressure of
his hips against hers. He pulled back just.
Enough to be able to. Whisper.
If you want me to stop, tell me to stop.
She made eye contact with him. Don't stop.
That was all the encouragement Malfoy needed.
His mouth crashed down to hers with renewed vigour, his tongue
exploring her mouth as his hands slid down from her hair to her
waist. She moaned in his mouth and his.
Grip on her. Tightened, She too moved her
hands. Lower.
Coming to rest at the hem of his shirt, her hands slipped under
the hem line, ghosting over his abdomen, and he paused.
She pulled back from the kiss. Is this yes?
He interrupted, returning his mouth to hers.
She allowed her hands to explore, feeling the firm
muscles of his abdomen under her fingers.
Malfoy may not have a physically demanding job, but he hadn't
lost his seeker physique. He grabbed her arse, making her
squeal before lifting her up and setting her on the counter.
You tell me if this. Is right, he said, panting.
He kissed her. You spend every day of your life
desperately trying to hold on, to control, because if you
don't, everything will fall apart.
He kissed her again. Using his knee to.
Spread her legs a bit so that he could stand between them.
But the harder you. Hold on, the more control slips
out of your grasp. He kissed her again.
You try and you try. And you try so God damn hard
that you're 1 wrong move away from absolutely losing your
shit. He kissed her again.
Am I right? Yes.
She whispered, heart pounding. I'm.
Always fighting for control. How would you like to lose it?
She hesitated. And he kissed her.
So gently that his lips barely brushed against hers.
I'll only take what you give me. Weasley.
He whispered. If you let me, I'll take care of
you. You can let go just for a little
while and if you want to stop. You tell me and we'll stop.
He was right. She was so so.
Tightly wound all the time. She wasn't even sure she knew
how to let go at this point. But maybe Malfoy could show.
Her. OK, she said, nodding at him.
She felt him smile against her. Mouth before.
He kissed her again, slower this time.
His hands moved under her shirt, skating over her stomach where
he started to lift the hem up. She raised her arms.
Allowing him to pull her. Shirt off, he tossed it
carelessly on the ground in a very unmalfoy like move.
His eyes travelled over her form, lingering on her breasts,
and Jinny thought the flush that was coming to her cheeks.
She was no virgin. But sex with?
Harry had always been in the bedroom, usually in dim light.
Watching Malfoy observe her in the kitchen with all the lights
on was new, and not just because it was Malfoy.
You're thinking too much. He observed.
Let go. He pulled his own shirt off and
tossed. It on the top of hers before
sliding his fingers to unhook her bra.
I don't know how. She said, her heart skipping a
beat as her bra came undone and he slowly slid the straps down
her arms. Then I guess I'll have to show
you. He murmured, his eyes on her
breasts as he reached down and gently run his thumb over her
nipple. I would be lying if I said.
I hadn't thought about this before, but the real hue is
beyond anything I imagined you've.
You've thought about this before.
He rolled her nipple between. His fingers.
Watching as it hardened several times.
He. Lifted his other hand to her
other breast, palming its weight before kissing her again.
I don't understand, she said after he pulled away.
He tilted his head a bit. Confused.
Jinny. Not only.
Are you stunningly beautiful? But you're smart, completely
unafraid to speak your mind and funny as hell.
I'm confused how you think. I wouldn't imagine this.
That was the difference she realised the world had.
Always seen her as Harry Potter's girlfriend, Harry
Potter's wife, Harry Potter's ex-wife.
He had been special and she had been his plus one.
Malfoy, it seemed, was seeing her as Jinny, not to anyone or
anything else. I'm ready to lose control.
She said and wrapped her legs around his waist before kissing
him, her arms around his neck. He felt strong and solid
underneath her, so much that she didn't even flinch when he
picked her up again and started walking.
His hands traced up her bareback, sending delicious
chills down her spine. The bedroom is.
She started. When not going to the bedroom,
he said. She wrinkled her brow in
confusion as she felt him summon his wand.
He waved it and she heard a rustling behind her before he
sat down on the edge of the dining table.
Just making space, he said. I should have said when not
going to the. Bedroom yet she glanced down and
saw. Her stack of books and.
Parchment and bills, which she had really meant to put away
before he arrived. We're sitting neatly on the
floor, leaving the dining table empty.
Lay back. He whispered, sending chills
down her. Spine once more.
We're going to break the table. Are you supposed to be worrying
about anything right now? No.
She said taking. A deep breath and laying back on
the table, noticing how odd it was to feel the wood against her
bare skin, he kissed her once more but quickly moved down to
her neck, his mouth warm against her pulse point.
As his hands fondled her breasts, he again used his knee
to spread. Her legs.
Allowing him to stand between them, his hands soon drifted
lower, trailing over her sensitive stomach before
unbuttoning her jeans. He hooked his thumbs into the
waistband and, eyes on her face, slid her jeans and knickers off
in one fluid motion. She was lying.
Stark naked. On her dining room table in
front of Draco Malfoy, of all people.
When I said. I was going to have dessert.
For dinner I was imagining chocolate, he said with a smirk.
But this is going to be so much better.
Did he mean? He did.
He knelt. Down between.
Her dangling legs, his hands gently pressing on her thighs as
he pulled them a further apart. Malvoy.
She said. Hmm, ay.
She didn't know what to say. He pressed a kiss to the inside
of her thigh, making her breathing go shallow.
You what? I don't know.
Then let me take care of you, he said, kissing her other thigh.
If you want me to stop. You say stop, I don't want you
to stop. Then in that case, he brought
his mouth to her lips and the core of heat in.
Jinny's belly. Tightened as he licked, he
lapped at her, swirling his tongue up and over her before
focusing on her clit. Jinny moaned, and he.
Brought his hands. To grip her hips, holding her in
place. The heady haze of.
Arousal clouded her. Mind as he worked, the warmth in
her core spreading over her skin.
His earlier statement about being thorough and precise held
true here as well. He left no part of her
untouched, and when he noticed her respond to something, he
stayed there, repeating the motion again and again until she
was writhing underneath him. Soon he slipped.
A finger inside her. Gently at first, but then
quickly finding a rhythm that had her booking her hips into
his hand. Her whole body tingled and
trembled as her orgasm built and built, and when she finally fell
over the edge, she cried out and grabbed his hair, holding him to
her. The shock waves of ecstasy.
Rippled through. Her making her legs shake in his
grip after another moment she. Let go of his.
Hair and he pulled back, grinning from ear to ear.
Fuck Weasley. He murmured.
You're flushed all over. She was her chest.
And stomach were. Blotchy and red.
That was incredible, she panted. I aim to please he.
Said with a smirk. But we're not done yet.
That was round one. That was round. 1.
Jinny's thighs shook and Malfoy laughed.
He helped her to sit up, but before she could get off the
table he scooped her into his arms, 1 supporting her back and
the other cradling her legs. She put her arms around his neck
as. He walked quickly.
Toward the small hallway leading to the bedrooms.
Left or right? He asked, his voice deep with
his own arousal. Left, she said, indicating her
own door, and he used his body to push it open.
She had not cleaned in here. Having no reason.
To suspect anyone would see this room, let alone Malfoy.
You're thinking too much, he said as he laid her down.
On the unmade bed, I'm not thinking about anything but you,
I promise. That sent delicious chills down
Jinny. 'S spine making her squirm.
She heard the distinctive clink of him undoing his belt and her
walls clenched, anticipating what was to come.
That sound was followed by the soft rustling of fabric as he
loosened his jeans and dropped them to the floor.
What do you say we try to? Set a record.
He asked as he crawled onto the bed.
Climbing over her A record. He brought his mouth.
To her neck once again. Sucking gently.
What kind of record? She asked, her voice breathy as
she felt the weight of him settle over her.
How many times do you think you can?
Come in a row, Jinny's heart. Skipped a beat 2 she said.
After a moment, Malfoy slowly traced her finger.
Down her side two, he repeated, setting our expectations low.
I see. He pressed a kiss to her mouth.
Though it was quick, I think I can beat that.
He kissed her again. Deeper this time, and slid one
hand down to her thighs. She spread her legs open and she
felt him grin against her mouth as he moved to her clit, making
slow, deliberate circles over and over again.
She could feel his length pressing.
Against her thigh. And she wanted to reach for it,
but he stopped her. Not yet, he breathed against her
mouth. It's still your turn.
Jinny took a shuddering breath, arousal washing through her.
He increased his pace just a little, and he began to pool in
her core once again. Was she already close to coming
again? It was the intentionality.
She. Thought that made this so
incredibly hot. Just like everything he did,
Malfoy's movements here were calculated, purposeful, all
designed to bring her slowly but surely over the edge.
Nothing was done on accident. It all mattered.
She moaned into his mouth. And he slipped her finger.
Inside her once again, wetness pooling between her thighs, she
wrapped her arms over his shoulders and dug her nails in a
bit once he began to set a rhythm.
His thumb never lost track of her clit, keeping that slow,
deliberate pace even as first one finger, then two slipped
inside her, gradually increasing speed as they thrust in and out,
pulling against her most sensitive of places.
Jinny cried out as she came again, her fingers digging into
his shoulders as her legs involuntarily lifted up the
mattress. Shock waves raced through her
little aftershocks, making her thighs quiver.
That's one, he said, lifting his head.
Up. That's two, she said, brow
furrowing. Oh, I wasn't counting the one on
the. Table, he said.
That was a warm up. Jinny laughed, half in
disbelief, half in amazement. I wasn't lying, he said,
reaching down to stroke himself. For a moment, I aim to set a
record. He grabbed the undersides of
her. Thighs.
And pulled her legs up a bit so that her knees were bent and her
feet were flat on the mattress. One more for you and then we.
Get to go together, he whispered.
As he positioned himself at her entrance, moving the tip a bit
in her slick, a small part of Jinny was.
Beginning to wonder. If she was having a very
realistic dream, but all doubt flew out of her mind as Malfoy
entered her, this was real. Very real.
After a few gentle thrusts, their hips met, and Malfoy let
out a shaky breath before beginning to move.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him closer to her
as his eyes widened for a moment.
His cheeks were flushed. Good.
She wasn't the only one affected.
He kept that pace up a little bit, his eyes fluttering closed
in blissful concentration before he pushed himself up, changing
the angle. Jinny arched her back, relishing
it and seeing that she liked it, he grabbed her legs and pulled
them up to his shoulders in one fluid motion, deepening the
angle further. Oh fuck.
She murmured as he picked up his pace.
Oh fuck, oh fuck. He brought one hand to her clit,
the ghost of a smile on his face, and within 10 seconds she
came apart, her hands making tight fists with the sheets as
she writhed. She blinked rapidly.
Stars. Clouding her vision.
That's 2. He panted and increased his pace
a bit. His hand never leaving her clit,
he reached down forward with his other hand and gently pinched
her nipple, making her arch her back still further.
Do you think you can give? Me one.
More hi. Words escaped Jinny at the.
Moment, There was nothing else, just this.
Just them I think you can. He whispered, and he pinched
harder. Let's see, he was getting close.
Gee could tell. His thrust became more urgent,
his breathing quickening as he moved.
You're fucking perfect, He. Murmured.
Quietly enough that she wasn't sure he had intended her to hear
it. Everything I could want.
He leaned forward. Bending her legs.
Back some, and as he came inside her, the look of ecstasy on his
face sent Jinny over the edge once again.
They came together, just like he had promised.
Oh my. God.
He panted, and she could feel him twitch inside her.
Oh my God. Gently, so gently, he pulled out
of her, letting her legs drop from his shoulders down onto the
bed. He collapsed next to her.
In a sweaty heap. Breathing hard for a moment.
They just lay there together. In spent silence, catching their
breath once she. Came to enough for.
An awareness to move, She summoned her wand and cast a
contraceptive charm. Good call.
Malfoy said. Sorry, I should have asked.
I think you were a little too. Busy to.
Ask, she said with a laugh, and he laughed.
Too fair. He turned on his.
Side to face her his. Hair was slick, was sweat and
sticking to his forehead. She turned to face him as well,
the surrealism of the whole thing hitting her all at once.
I you. What?
He asked when she didn't. Continue.
I didn't know it could feel like that, she said, flushing in
embarrassment. For one terrible moment, she was
afraid that he would make fun of her for it, making some dig
about Harry, maybe, but he just reached out and brushed hair out
of her face. I'm glad I got to show you.
Then. He said.
Now. What?
She asked. Now, I suppose we make our
chocolate. Souffle like we intended,
although I wouldn't say no to a shower first, No, I mean.
After this? What?
Now? What does this mean?
He ran his thumb along her jawline, not quite making eye
contact with her. Well, I suppose.
It can mean whatever we want it to mean.
Jinny had no idea. What she wanted it to mean.
I'm not looking. To move in tomorrow, if that's
what. You're worried about, He said, a
bit of stiffness coming into his voice.
I had fun, and I think you did too, and while I'd like to do it
again if you feel differently. He started to pull his hand
away. No, she said, grabbing his wrist
and holding it in place. I didn't mean it like that, I
just I wanted to know if this was.
Just a hook up for. You or Weasley on my?
First day of class, I saw you before I saw anything else in
the room, he said abruptly, making her stop in.
Her tracks you what? She said, eyes widening.
I left the wizarding world. Mostly behind at 18 because I
was afraid to face living in it with what I'd done.
I wasn't brave enough to stay. My whole 7th year is a blur even
still. I've been to therapy for it but
I don't think it's ever going to fully come back.
But do you know what I do? Remember.
You standing up against the Carrows?
Jinny gasped her hand. Covering her mouth.
I was amazed you. Even came back to.
School with how much of A target you had on your back.
He continued, a strange kind of fire coming into his eyes as he
spoke. Harry Potter's girlfriend, we
all knew it, and the daughter of the known Order members.
But there you were. You weren't hiding off on the
sidelines. I lost count of how many times I
saw you take punishments for other students.
You were so so. Brave Every.
Second of the day. And I could barely get out of
bed in the morning. I was so controlled by.
Fear after the war was over, I. Was sure I was.
Going to Azkaban, but Potter stepped up and testified at my
trial, so of course they let me go.
But they didn't really let go, did they?
I. Left the Wisengemot A supposedly
free man and instead got the honour of spending my life
forever on trial in the court of public opinion.
Jinny knew what that was. Like she.
Knew exactly what that was like. My life was chaos.
I couldn't even leave the Manor at first, I was so terrified of
everyone and everything. But then one day I had had
enough. I remember you fighting against
the Carros even though you knew you couldn't win, not really.
And I said to myself, I'm not going to give up my whole life
without a fight. So I broke my mother's heart and
left. Draco, let me finish.
I'm. Not sure you can imagine just
how difficult it was for me, given the way I grew up, to
suddenly drop into muggle society and try to figure things
out, but I did it. I went to school.
I made friends, I lived in a shitty flat with too many
roommates during uni, all the normal muggle things.
But I could never. Quite bring myself to change my
name. I thought about it many times
but I never did it. It felt like hiding and every.
Time, I thought. About it.
I remembered the look you would get on your face when you would
stand up against Amicus Cairo, and I knew I couldn't hide it.
If you didn't hide there, I wasn't going to hide out in the
Muggle world either. He paused.
Taking a deep breath. But Jinny's head was spinning so
much that she couldn't even form a proper sentence.
I got older and things started to fall into place for me, he
continued. I did my.
Undergrad in history at the better to understand muggles you
see, and I realized I would like to teach so I did my post grad
in education and got a job. My mother can't understand it
Uni she could sort of rationalize as me being
rebellious but working a job day in and day out when I couldn't
spend through our fortune if I tried in my whole lifetime.
She doesn't understand it, but when I'm there, I you're, you.
She interrupted. He blinked.
What? When you're there, you're you.
When you're in wizard's robes, you're stiff and formal.
But that first morning at school, you were free.
He nodded. It's been.
A gift to get to live this life when I so easily could have
ended up behind bars forever. I never ever take it for
granted. I live my life in my little
bubble and I'm happy most of the time.
Then these stupid classes became mandated and it was a reminder
all over again that the wizarding world will only ever
see me as the Death Eater who hates muggles.
I was pissed that I had to take them, rightfully so, I think.
And then I show up on the first day late from having to attend a
staff meeting at school, and who do I see but you?
Her mind flashed to him, rushing into class.
Apologising for being held up I hadn't seen.
You in 12 years and. Running into you so unexpectedly
it took my breath away. I knew you didn't want to be in
class either, and you didn't want to be partnered with me,
because why would you? Your name had already been
drugged through the muck enough in that stupid prophet with its
hero worship of Potter spending your evenings with a former
death. Eater couldn't have been high on
your priority list, so I asked. Gresnick to switch.
Partners. To spare you the embarrassment,
but he wouldn't let me you asked to switch partners for.
My benefit? She asked, incredulous.
What did you think? He asked raising.
An eyebrow that you just. Didn't want to be partnered with
me, she said sheepishly. He laughed.
I suppose. That's fair given our history,
but no, not the case if sex with.
Malfoy had been surreal. This conversation was on another
level. So where?
Does this leave us? Then he asked, her hand still
gripping his. Wrist, I think, she said, slowly
rubbing her thumb against him. That we should take a shower.
Make this. Chocolate souffle.
And then if you don't mind how absolutely trashed my room is,
you could spend the night if you like I'd.
Like that he. Said softly.
What was that French saying you? Said in class.
Mison Plus. Yeah, that I've been thinking
about that for. Weeks, as you can maybe tell.
Nothing in my. Life feels like it's in place
most of the time. Ever since the divorce and maybe
even before that, I've been scrambling to just try to
survive. I run to work where I barely
make it through the day writing about shit that doesn't matter
to goddamn anyone, only to rush to my parents house to pick up
James who should have had a nap but probably didn't.
So he's running around the flat like a madman while I'm trying
to make dinner and get him a bath and put him to bed.
Then I wake up and do it all over again.
And that's not taking into account I mean to Co parent with
the most famous parent, most beloved man in all of wizard in
Britain. Which, let me tell you, is not
easy. My life feels too.
Full most. Of the time, like I can never
get a break, but maybe it was actually just missing something.
Malfoy looked like he. Was holding his breath.
I envied you so much in class these last weeks.
You always seemed perfectly confident, perfectly in control,
like you were running your life. It wasn't running you.
I wanted that and maybe, maybe I was meant to meet.
You again. For you to show me it was
possible for me to see that maybe, maybe the reason nothing
was falling into place was because I was missing something
that maybe I don't have to. Do everything.
Alone all of the time. So yes, if you want to stay the
night, you can stay the night and after that.
Maybe we can. Figure it out together I would
like. That very.
Much he said. And before he could say anything
else, Jinny kissed him. You have been listening to Meese
en. Place by Radio Ravenswood,
narrated by me, Briar and Tones if you like this work, please.
Don't forget to head. Over to the original work on AO3
and give the author a big fat wet kudos.
Thank you for listening.