The wooden stairs creaked slightly beneath my feet as I made my way down them, absentmindedly twisting the silver snake ring upon my finger. The scar across my shoulder remained a purple-red colour, a sign that even if the wound was closed, the flesh beneath was still healing. I'd only studied the scar long enough to see the colouring and size, not long enough to think of the events that had led to it.
The kitchen no longer smelt of freshly baked bread instead the room smelt of basil and garlic as George stood at the kitchen bench, chopping onions, carrots and zucchini. The garlic sat off to the side freshly crushed, the basil leaves remained attached to the stem as if he'd only just gotten it from the garden. Several tomatoes had already been crushed, the vibrant red flesh left within a simple pale blue bowl.
A soft sizzling sound filled my ears as I looked towards the stovetop, a single black aluminium pot filled with water bubbled lightly, a frying pan sat sizzling upon the stove as the olive oil within the pan began to heat. I simply watched as George carried the now chopped onion towards the frying pan and scraped it off the chopping board and into the pan with the knife, the garlic added in after he'd put the chopping board down.
He only seemed to notice me after he'd added the garlic into the pan, the sound of the onion and garlic sizzling filled the room. My eyes noted the herbs and vegetables that laid across the benchtop before I spoke, "Spaghetti?"
"It's somewhat of my speciality," He says smiling.
I smiled in response as I thought of Scorpius, picturing him almost drooling over the smell of the onions and garlic cooking, "Scorpius would be drooling if he was here," I say, chuckling softly.
George chuckled, his brown eyes filling with happiness almost as if I'd just given him a slice of my own, "Fred was the same, he seemed to always know when I was making it. He'd even go as far as apparating right into the kitchen where I'd find him leaning against the countertops as I turned around."
"Scorpius usually helps himself to the cooked mince and sauce," I say, watching as George grabbed the spaghetti and put it into the boiling water, covering the pot with a lid before he turned back to face me.
George shook his head in amusement, "It must be an older brother thing," He says.
"I think it's a twin thing because without fail, he'd know whenever I started making it," I utter, remembering the countless times Scorpius had breezed into the room like he'd been summoned.
I watched as he stirred the onions and garlic around the pan before quickly deeming them ready enough for the mince to be added into the pan, "That or wherever the food was, they'd be," George uttered as he continued to stir the mince around the pan, the red meat starting to lightly brown.
I hummed in agreement, "I can see that."
George turned back to face me as he leant on the countertop beside the stove, "Your brother, what's he like?" He asks, eyes filled with curiosity.
I sighed softly, "In many ways, he's like our father, you've only got to look at him and see the similarities. He's stubborn, protective and ambitious, all traits that our father has-that we both have."
I smiled softly as I continued to talk, "But he's also loyal, compassionate, caring and oddly attentive. He doesn't take himself too seriously whenever it's just us. He won't admit it but he loves my owl, I've seen him sitting with Archimedes and watched him run his fingers over his feathers."
George smiled softly as if picturing the blonde-haired boy sitting with an owl, "What was Fred like?" I ask as he begins to stir the mince again, the meat almost completely brown now.
He continued to stir the mince for several moments, brown eyes never straying from the pan as I waited. George grabbed the pale blue bowl filled with the crushed tomatoes and poured them into the pan with the mince, mixing the meat and tomatoes, "He was a lot like Scorpius, loyal, compassionate, caring, attentive and a jokester. Protective over anything he loved, stubborn at times and brave."
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Death Eaters Daughter
Fanfiction"Back so soon, Lysia?" Mattheo taunts, a smirk across his face as he leant forward and rested both elbows upon the long table. "How naive of you to think that you were free. It was only a matter of time before I found you." *** Elysian Malfoy and he...