The Slytherdor (Draco X Reader)

Year 7-17

Edited May 10, 2017.
A/n: Yn=your name.

You walk back into the warm house with a cauldron full of snow and hang it onto a hook hanging above the fireplace. The house had electric lights and was very up to date except for the kitchen. There was a dishwasher, oven, sink and all the kitchen supplies except for the stove. That apparently was the fire place. There were outlets scattered everywhere along the walls and the bed room was down the hall. The wallpaper was of red and white striped that made it look like ribbon candy were plastered on the wall.

"I'll take the couch. There's only one bed," Harry says. You start hunting through the closets to find a blowup mattress.

"Only one? You sure?" You ask Harry. He looks at you and hugs you.

"You're the best sister!" Harry says. You smile and walked into the bedroom to blow up the mattress.

"Call me when the water's boiling!" You call.

"Okay. Wait, what's boiling?" Harry asked.

"Call I'll you," Fawkes says.

"Inflari," you say as the bed inflates into a squishy mattress.

"You Harry her call!" Fawkes shouts.

"What?" Harry asked utterly confused.

"Boiling water is!" Fawkes screams.

"Coming," you say waking into complete chaos. Imagine that Harry is chasing Fawkes around and Storm is trying to bite Harry's leg for some reason and Fawkes was squawking about the water boiling and how Harry is a daft dimbo.

"Yn! Help!" Harry squeaks.

"Why are you a daft dimbo and Storm trying to bite you?" You ask.

"Storm sides with Fawkes and Fawkes keeps calling me a person with an extra side of stultus," Harry reported.

"VILIS! VAFFANCULO! Tha gràin agam ort! La agua está hirviendo idiota!! Tá an t-uisce fiuchphointe duit leathcheann!!" Fawkes bellows strutting around like a constipated chicken. "Ag fuck tú," Fawkes adds once he catches his breath.

"You done yet?" You asked mildly bored and barely containing your laughter.

"What'd he shout?" Harry asks.

"Fuck your mm in Latin Fuck you in Italian. I hate you in Scotts Gaelic. The water is boiling, idiot in Spanish, the water is boiling in Irish, and Fuck you in Irish. Pretty much doesn't like the fact you can't understand what he was saying," you translate and explain.

"Great he know swears in different languages. How'd you-" Harry asked.

"I can speak with Fawkes through the mind. Now, want some pasta?" You ask.

"Gladly. Wait, what's the animals going to eat?" Harry asks.

"Rats of lots here. Nice fat big ones," Fawkes says as he and Storm start hunting through the house.

"Well, that was sure entertaining," you say giggling.

"What, to be grilled by an incompetent bird that swears in multiple languages and can't speak with correct grammar or word order?" Harry asks while you put the pasta in. You wave your wand and the coffee table was set for two in a blink.

After a few minutes, Harry took the pasta off the fire and drained it. You threw together a sauce and put the pasta in it and tossed the dish to make the pasta coated with the sauce.

"Sis, you're an excellent cook!" Harry says.

A/n: I admit. I was Siriusly starving when I wrote the chapter and wanted to give you and Harry some bonding time. Sorry if you got hungry reading this.