𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

Chapter 7

"You know… it's not so difficult after you get the hang of this…" Draco said peeling the potatoes in his hands under Mrs. Dunham apprehensive eyes. Draco was sweating. Mrs. Dunham prayed. "It's quite easy, actually…" Draco continued. "I don't understand why they… ouch!"

To say that Mrs. Dunham waited for this to happen would be an understatement. Draco cursed and immediately put his index, bleeding finger in his mouth. Mrs. Dunham sighed. The cut wasn't too deep and would heal in a matter of days but Malfoy, being who he was, would whine about it for years to come and Mrs. Dunham knew it.

"Come on, Mr. Malfoy…" she tried to say as Draco cursed and glared at the innocent, half-peeled potato in his hand.

"Are you kidding, woman?" Draco exclaimed, "I'm not going to go this kind of servant thing ever again!"

"Mr. Malfoy, Draco, the first time is always difficult…" Mrs. Dunham said and took Draco's injured hand in hers. "See? It's not even bleeding anymore…"

"Well, that is beside the point!" Draco exclaimed. Mrs. Dunham sighed.

"I'm sure the next time you'll do a perfect job…" Jennifer said, smiling softly at him. "You are doing very well, Draco. I'm sure you'll know how to cook in no time!"

Draco had to admit that Mrs. Dunham was right. He was going pretty well, to tell the absolute truth, and that was because he had connected the art of cooking with the Potion's lessons he had attended at Hogwarts. Draco had always been good at Potions. He understood the logic behind it; he practically had the subject in his hands. Cooking was like breeding some kind of potion, he decided.

"Maybe…" he said after a moment, earning another kind smile from Mrs. Dunham.

"This…" the woman said after some moments of silence. "Will help you live on your own, think on your own, make your own decisions…"

Draco blinked at her. How could cooking help him do all that kind of stuff? It was ridiculous. He couldn't realize that Mrs. Dunham was talking about something else entirely, something deeper than simple cooking.

Draco nodded, not knowing what to say really, and after a moment of hesitation took the potato back in his hands and resumed peeling it. Mrs. Dunham sighed. Really? How could Potter manage with Draco? The little prince was so arrogant and lost. You needed so much patience when wanting to help him…

Wait a moment.

Why Potter agreed to help Malfoy in the first place?

"What is exactly your relationship with that young man I see coming once in a while here?" Mrs. Dunham asked bluntly but with an innocent smile on her face. Draco stopped in his tracks, not really expecting the question and accidently cut himself again.

"Oh, darn!" Draco exclaimed. Mrs. Dunham blinked at the reaction. Draco stared at his bleeding finger, his mouth agape. He tried to regain composure but suddenly the day when he and Harry accidentally kissed returned into his mind and blushed violently.

Mrs. Dunham was now more than just curious.

"We…" Draco said after a moment. "He just… helps me adapt to…" why the hell was he blushing? Didn't he already tell himself that that kiss wasn't nothing but an accident? "We… are nothing to each other…" he finally said. "I just asked him a favor, knowing he wouldn't refuse…"

"Oh…" Mrs. Dunham said, afraid she just stepped into something forbidden, unknown even to the two men. Silence fell between them and Draco reassumed what he was doing with more force than strictly necessary. The question had been ridiculous! The answer was even simpler. So why, damn it, his heart beat so much? Damn it. Damnit. Damnit.