Daughter of a Witch

Cooking Dinner Together

The Harkness-Vidal household was quiet, save for the gentle hum of a record player spinning an old jazz tune in the background. Y/n stood in the kitchen, her hands busy unpacking groceries from a brown paper bag. A determined smile tugged at her lips as she reached for her apron, a soft blue one with little embroidered stars her Mama had gifted her last Christmas. Sliding it over her head, she snagged it around her waist before twisting her long, wavy hair into a high ponytail. Her hair, nearly identical to Agatha's, gleamed under the warm kitchen light, the resemblance unmistakable.

"This is going to be perfect," she murmured, rolling up her sleeves and surveying the ingredients before her.

Y/n was determined to cook dinner for her parents as a surprise-a small token of appreciation for everything they did for her. It wouldn't be fancy, just a cozy, comforting meal of homemade pasta with marinara sauce, garlic bread, and a simple salad.

She had just started kneading the dough for the pasta when she heard the unmistakable creak of the staircase. Her heart sank slightly. Please don't come down yet. Just stay distracted a little longer, she thought, but her luck ran out as Rio appeared in the doorway.

"Cariño," Rio said, her voice warm with amusement. "What's going on here?"

Y/n froze for a moment before plastering on a sheepish smile. "Hi, Mom. Nothing. Just... cooking dinner."

Rio raised an eyebrow, her dark eyes sparkling. "By yourself?"

"Yes, by myself," Y/n replied firmly, dusting her hands with flour.

Rio stepped further into the kitchen, hands on her hips. "Do you need help? It's dangerous to leave your mother hungry for too long."

"I've got it under control!" Y/n insisted.

But Rio was already reaching for her amulet, the green crystal glinting in the light. With a wave of her hand, a stack of bowls and a whisk floated into the air, arranging themselves neatly on the counter.

"Mom!" Y/n groaned, throwing her hands up. "No magic! This is supposed to be-"

"A surprise for us? I know," Rio said with a grin, "but why not make it easier?" She flicked her wrist, and the pasta dough began kneading itself, the rolling pin spinning on its own like a small cyclone.

When Y/n opened her mouth to protest, another voice interrupted from the hallway. "What's all this racket?"

Agatha's voice was unmistakable, smooth, and teasing as she sauntered into the kitchen. She took one look at the magical chaos and smirked. "Oh, so we're using magic in the kitchen now? No wonder I smelled trouble."

Rio turned to her wife, feigning innocence. "Trouble? I'm just helping."

"You're cheating," Agatha countered, striding to Y/n's side. She gently plucked a wooden spoon from the counter, examining it as if testing its quality. "Cooking is an art, Rio. You can't just wave your little green crystal around and call it a meal."

Y/n pinched the bridge of her nose. "Mama, I don't need help-"

"Nonsense," Agatha interrupted, tying an apron around her waist. Her tone turned mock-serious. "This is a family affair now."

"Great," Y/n muttered under her breath.

The kitchen quickly devolved into chaos.

Rio, ever the practical Green Witch, attempted to use her magic to speed up every process. She summoned a bunch of herbs from the garden, their leaves swirling into a vortex before landing in a perfect pile on the counter. But in her haste, she accidentally summoned a little too much basil, and soon, it was raining green leaves all over the kitchen.

"Oops," Rio said, brushing basil out of Y/n's hair with a chuckle.

Meanwhile, Agatha took the opposite approach, insisting on doing everything manually. She dramatically rolled up her sleeves and declared herself the "Sauce Queen," taking over the marinara with the flair of a Broadway performer.

"Proper sauce needs care and attention," she said, her voice dripping with mock sophistication. "Not shortcuts, mon amour." She shot Rio a sly grin.

Rio crossed her arms. "Care and attention don't mean hovering over a pot for two hours, cariño."

Y/n sighed as the bickering began. "Can we please focus?"

Y/n quickly took charge, assigning tasks like a diplomat brokering peace between two rival nations.

"Mom, you can work on the salad. By hand," she added pointedly, narrowing her eyes at Rio.

"Fine," Rio said with a playful pout, grabbing a knife and chopping vegetables precisely.

"And Mama," Y/n continued, turning to Agatha, "you're still on sauce duty, but no more taste-testing. You've had, like, ten spoonfuls already."

"Eleven," Agatha corrected, smirking as she stirred the pot.

Y/n couldn't help but laugh despite herself. It was chaos-basil in her hair, flour smudged on her cheeks, and garlic bread dangerously close to burning-but it was her chaos, her family.

When the meal was ready, the kitchen looked like a war zone. Flour dusted every surface, bits of pasta dough clung to the walls, and a small mountain of basil leaves had somehow ended up in the corner.

Y/n set the table while her parents cleaned up, Rio using her magic to whisk away the worst of the mess despite Agatha's grumbling.

When they finally sat down, Y/n felt a swell of pride as she looked at the steaming plates of pasta, the perfectly toasted garlic bread, and the colorful salad.

"It's not perfect," she admitted, fiddling with her fork.

Agatha reached over and placed a hand over hers. "It's perfect because you made it," she said, her voice soft.

Rio nodded, her smile warm. "And because we made it together."

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her grin. "You two nearly destroyed the kitchen."

Agatha and Rio exchanged a look before bursting into laughter.

The conversation flowed easily as they ate, filled with teasing and laughter. Rio complimented Y/n's pasta-making skills while Agatha waxed poetic about the balance of flavors in the sauce, much to everyone's amusement.

By the end of the meal, Y/n felt full-not just from the food but from the love that filled the room.

Later that night, the three of them curled up on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over them as they watched an old black-and-white movie. Y/n nestled between her parents, her head resting on Agatha's shoulder while Rio's hand absentmindedly played with her ponytail.

"Thanks for dinner, Y/n," Agatha murmured, kissing her daughter's temple.

"Yeah, cariño," Rio added, her voice soft. "It was perfect."

Y/n smiled, her eyes drifting shut as the moment's warmth wrapped around her like a second blanket.

In the end, the food didn't matter. What mattered was the time they spent together-flour fights, basil explosions, and all.