Almost

Chapter 19: Lullabye

A/N: Thank you so much for following along with Katherine's story! How do you feel about the Evie and George backstory? Do you want more of it? Let me know!

"Home sweet home," George said as he came through the floo behind her. She had pulled her wand out and was trying to get a particularly tricky soot stain out of her blouse.

"This is why I don't wear this fabric," she muttered. "High maintenance."

George laughed and moved past her into the kitchen, where he grabbed two aprons off the wall and threw one at her.

"Excuse me," Katherine said, holding it up. "You must be confusing me with your other long-lost daughter because this one can't cook."

George reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle. "Is she the one who likes wine, too?"

"No, that one is me," she clarified, tapping her nose.

"You have to learn at some point. How can you be self-sufficient if you can't cook?"

"I'm excellent at ordering takeout," she clarified. "And could easily survive on peanut butter."

"You made chili that one time. That's cooking."

"That's dumping cans into a pot. And most of the time I burn the meat."

He handed her a glass of wine and she took a careful sip. "You've only ever tried to cook like a muggle. You should give it a go to cook like a witch."

George was actually a good teacher. He taught her the spells that let the knives chop and dice everything on their own, so she didn't have to keep her focus on them. He showed her how the stove worked by magic rather than on normal burners, able to sense when food was done and turn off automatically as it got close. He even showed her how to get the dishes to set the table like she'd seen them do for Molly.

"The work you have to do is in the flavors," he told her. "We can do better than a can."

She watched as he began putting tomatoes and onions on the stove in olive oil, letting her smell every herb and spice before he put them in. As the pasta boiled and the garlic bread baked, he kept having her taste the sauce and try and figure out what it needed. Frankly, it tasted the same to her every time, but he clearly had a specific blend in mind.

When the aprons were hung back up and the dishes began washing themselves in the sink, George sat at the table and held his wine glass up.

"Cheers," he said.

Katherine smiled and clinked her glass to his. "Cheers. It smells incredible. Do you always use beef and pork?"

"When it's just me, yes. Fred and Roxy don't like pork."

"I love pork. Probably an Iowa thing, though. Mom would grill pork chops every year for my birthday."

George nodded, spinning pasta onto his fork and taking a pensive bite. "I have a hard time seeing her behind a grill."

"It took a while, but she got better as I got older," Katherine laughed. "Mr. Parker taught her how."

"The Parkers owned the coffee shop, right?"

She gave a smile and pushed noodles around on her plate. "They do. We spent a lot of time with them when I was a kid, if I'd go to work with Mom or if she needed someone to watch me while she was in class or something."

"Are they still in Iowa?"

"They moved to Chicago, to be closer to their grandkids," Katherine said, shaking her head. "But they came back for a while when Mom died to help me get everything sorted."