InsaneJournal

Fic: Experiments in Muggle Living, PG, H/D
Title: Experiments in Muggle Living
Author: foreword
Disclaimer: Very obviously not mine.
Summary: Draco is no Martha Stewart.
Rating: PG
A/N: Based on a bunny from saoni.

Thank you to cloudsurfing as always. ♥



Potter was insufferable.

Draco reflected that he had known this for quite some time, but this really took the proverbial cake. Only there wasn’t much proverbial about it.

When he’d initially learned the ingredients, he’d been secretly amused that Muggles put flowers in their cakes, and horrified at the idea of eggs mixed with chocolate.

But this flour was not the slightest bit amusing, and Draco quickly found himself coated in white dust. Potter had assured him that this was an important part of the process, and Draco was beginning to think that Muggles were completely cerebrally challenged.

He had managed, however, to mix the cursed dust with sugar and water, and had progressed to glaring at the three chicken eggs that seemed far too small to be of any real use.

He glanced at the recipe again, frowning at the lack of helpful instructions. Draco was an ace at Potions, and he had never encountered a potion involving eggs that made no mention of how to use the shells.

Potter chose that precise moment to waltz into the kitchens, hopping up on a counter and snatching an apple out of a bowl as he regarded Draco, smiling as if he were some sort of entertainment.

Draco tensed, bristling as he raised a powdery-eyebrow at the other boy, scowling.

“Aren’t you supposed not to see it until it’s ready?”

Potter laughed, taking a bite out of the apple and proceeding to talk while chewing. Draco was disgusted.

“That’s brides on wedding days, not birthday cakes.”

Draco had been so fixated on Potter’s insistence on crude behaviour that it took him a moment to process what Potter had said. He scowled.

“I don’t see why I can’t use magic. This is ridiculous.”

Potter gave him a meaningful look, the laughter in his eyes dying as he slid from the counter and crossed the space between them. He brushed two fingers across Draco’s forehead, wiping flour away.

“Because then they could find us.”

Draco sighed and closed his eyes.

“If you don’t leave this kitchen soon, you’ll have much more immediately dangerous things to worry about.”

Potter’s expression broke into a grudging smile and he shrugged, biting into the apple again as he wandered out of the kitchen.

Draco dropped each of the eggs into the mixing bowl, crushing them with a metal spoon and mixing them into the batter, shells and all.

*

Draco was still covered in flour, as Potter had insisted that they eat before he showered. He had just raised his wand to levitate candles above the rather lopsided cake when Potter sighed and grabbed his hand.

“Knew we should have locked it up.”

Draco opened his mouth in indignation as Potter confiscated his wand, fully intending on telling him the many reasons why this would not, in fact, be a grand idea, but Potter grinned at him then, his hair rumpled and his glasses crooked and Draco resigned himself to a sigh. Potter kissed him quickly, a quiet ‘thank you’ at his mouth, and took a seat at the table, examining the cake curiously. Draco flushed and hastily began slicing it, forgetting about the candles all together.

“This is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

Draco’s hand shook slightly and he swallowed, trying not to think about what sort of birthdays Potter had had before.

“Of course it is, Potter. Shut up.”

But Potter only smiled in response to this, as Draco shoved a plate full of cake at him – dark chocolate flecked with white. Potter, being the greedy little eating machine he’d lately become, hastily began shovelling cake into his mouth. Draco frowned and turned away, fully intending on retrieving a very large bottle of wine – and perhaps one for Potter, as well – when a large crash brought his attention back to the birthday boy.

Potter had fallen from his chair to the floor and was currently spread eagled on his back, his fork clattering to the ground from loose fingers.

He stared at Harry for a moment in shock, his brain giving him multiple demands simultaneously that his body seemed unable to carry out.

“Potter?”

But Harry didn’t respond. Draco dropped to the floor beside him, his knees apparently collapsing under the enormous weight that was suddenly pressing down on his chest. He raised a tentative, shaking hand, intending on touching the other boy, but he couldn’t bring his fingers to search for a pulse. He swallowed, cursing under his breath as he let his hands drop to Harry’s clothing.

If he could only find his wand.

If he could find his wand, Harry would be okay.

If he could find his wand, he could fix it.

He reached into Harry’s pockets, his fingers closing around lint and scraps of parchment, and the body underneath his hands moved. Draco froze, stealing a glance at the face that was entirely too flushed to be dead. He narrowed his eyes, but forced his hands to continue as if he hadn’t noticed, finally standing up with an exasperated sigh. He stepped carefully over Potter to the table and lifted the remaining cake, smiling as he up-ended the plate, letting the cake drop onto Potter’s head.

Potter sat up at once, cursing and flinging chocolate everywhere and then he was on his feet, grabbing Draco by the shirt collar and pressing up against him, kissing him until Draco was sure he’d have chocolate hair for weeks.

He wasn’t sure how he put up with him, really.