Yes, Chef

In. 

Out.

In. 

Out. 

In.

“Alright, come on, gather around. Let's go over any questions about the menu for this week,” Harry announced, standing in front of his staff who shuffled the parchment he had Rich hand out at the end of shift on Saturday out of server books or pockets. Harry took out his own copy, running a finger down the page to make sure everything was in order. 

Amuse Bouche - Crispy Oyster with Champagne Vinegar Granita 

Appetizer -  American Wagyu Beef Carpaccio with Truffle Aioli  and 32 month Aged Balsamic Glaze 

Soup - Cream of Wild Mushroom Soup with Sourdough Crostini 

Fish Course - Pan Seared Halibut with a Corn Succotash and Meyer Lemon Butter Sauce 

Main - Dry Aged New York Strip with a Bourbon Cream Pan Sauce and Truffle Shavings 

Palate Cleanser - Blueberry bourbon sorbet with mint oil 

Dessert - Wild Berry Cobbler with Vanilla Ice Cream and Raspberry Coulis 

Harry had shifted the blueberry sorbet as a palate cleanser before handing out the menu, wanting to showcase a true American dessert that had British roots, but was derived from the colonies. Anthony raised a hand, clearing his throat when Harry nodded from his to go ahead. 

“I just wanted to make it known that the cocktail special for this week will be a cranberry thyme Manhattan. I infused the vermouth with fresh cranberries and thyme and there are spiced bitters in it to bring down the tartness of the cranberries. It'll pair best with the main course,” he said, lowering his hand. “It's called Thymes Square.”

Harry hummed, scanning over the servers one more time. “Sounds great, anyone else? Let's work on greeting times for the next two weeks, yeah? As soon as a table sits, greet them and run through the basics before moving on to the next. Start with the first table sat in your section and go from there,” He clapped, dismissing everyone to continue to prepare for the first service. 

“Harry, can I talk to you?” Draco asked, taking him by the elbow and leading him to the office. 

“Is everything alright? Is anyone giving you trouble?” Harry furrowed his brow, watching as Draco closed the office door. When Draco turned to face him, he took two steps forward and placed his hands on the side of Harry’s face before pulling him into a kiss. Harry made a small noise in the back of his throat, kissing back immediately, tilting his head to deepen it a bit. When Draco broke away breathless, Harry raised an eyebrow at him, bringing a hand up to caress the hand on his cheek. 

“You alright, love?” He asked softly. 

“I'm perfectly fine. Been dying to do that since I got here after seeing this coat,” Draco mused, running his hand down the dark green chef coat. “Brings out your eyes and you look devastatingly fit in it.” 

“Devastatingly fit? Maybe I could convince you to come back to mine tonight?” Harry asked, a small smirk playing on his lips. 

“Perhaps I'll consider it,” Draco said, gently patting Harry’s cheek. 

“Are you both done? I'd rather not have to watch Draco go down on you again because that makes me a cuck in away and you only have ten til service,” Blaise’s voice sounded from behind them. They both jumped, Harry whirling around to find Blaise behind the desk. 

“Oi! Where the fuck did you come from?” Harry asked, feeling his cheeks heat. 

“Oh, I've been here the entire time. I escaped the pre-shift early to come put the ledger back in the desk and dropped my quill. You two showed up a moment later,” Blaise said loftily. 

“You're a shifty one, Zabini,” Harry muttered, stepping towards the door. “Let me know if you want to come over, yeah? Fair warning, I do get up rather early if you stay the night,” he said, one hand on the door knob. 

“Don't worry about me. I can sleep through anything which includes Blaise’s not so quiet escapades in Sixth Year. That was when I did get sleep that year,” Draco grimaced. 

“Oi!” 

“Brought it on yourself, Zabini,” Harry chided before opening the office door, leaving the two to bicker amongst each other with a smile on his lips. 

↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹

Harry was outside smoking a cigarette, trying to ignore the bite of the incoming December air as snow fell softly to the pavement, sounding like static. 

The main courses had just been sent out and he felt like he deserved this cigarette after how well the first dinner service went with some of the new service ideas he was testing out.

Of course, having two dinner services go well just was out of the question. 

“Oi, Harry, I have a guest who is unhappy with the cook on their steak,” Blaise said, poking his head out the back door. 

“The love of Merlin- what is wrong with the cook on their steak? They chose it at the beginning of their meal! What could possibly be wrong with the cook that they chose?” Harry questioned, exasperation seeping into his voice. 

“Well they said they didn’t like the cook.”

“What was the cook on the steak?”

Silence, just for a moment. 

“Well done.”

“And what did they not like about the cook?”

“They said it was too tough and it tasted like shit.”

“No fucking shit it tasted like shit! Oh sweet Merlin I’m going to lose it,” Harry took a large inhale of the cigarette before throwing it down and crushing it with his foot. “What the fuck did they expect from a dry aged New York Strip with a literal temputure suggestion of bloody medium rare next to the item? I’m not making another bloody fucking steak.”

“Well… Now they do want to follow the suggested cook this time… said he wanted to try something different” Blaise trailed off, wincing a bit at Harry’s outburst. 

“Absolutely the fuck not. Take it off the bill or something, but I’m not making another when they ruined a perfectly good steak! Maybe don’t try something different when you’re spending bloody hundreds of Galleons on it!” Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Well you do want that star, right?” Blaise followed up. Harry let out a noise of frustration, a stray beer bottle from one of the neighbouring businesses exploding into fine dust. 

“If he wants another steak I’m not bloody cooking it!” Harry snapped, feeling his anger radiating off his skin. 

“Down boy, I’ll get Rich to do it. Why don’t you just stay out here for a minute so you don’t make the staff cry?” Blaise suggested, already inching back inside a bit. 

“Fuck off,” Harry grumbled, pulling out another cigarette. He lit it with a wave of his hand, letting the smoke fill his lungs as he pulled. Blaise disappeared and Harry sat on the crate beside the door, muttering to himself because honestly…

Who in their right mind would ruin a steak and then demand a new one! 

Honestly, he was a bit frustrated. It was one thing to perhaps not like the cook and want it cooked more, but to choose a temperature that requires him to make a whole new steak for something different? He worked so bloody hard to get to this point and for some reason these arseholes began rearing their heads as if Harry’s name attached to that blasted article pulled them out from under what black hole they lived in. 

Harry had no perception of time passing because before he knew it, Blaise peaked back out when he was on his third cigarette, giving a thumbs up. 

“He enjoyed the steak this time,” Blaise offered. 

“Maybe he should’ve gone with the Chef Suggestion,” Harry snarked, taking one last pull of his cigarette. 

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that! You have no idea the type of things these people do to try and save a spot of money,” Blaise tried, stepping fully out from behind the door.

“I honestly don’t care. If you can’t afford it, don’t come. The price is clearly displayed and informed at the time of the reservation. We don’t even charge to cancel!” Harry argued, feeling bitter. 

“Sometimes, those who can’t afford it want to feel special too,” Blaise countered.

“Who are you and what have you done with Blaise Zabini?” Harry shot back, raising a brow. 

“I have my moments,” Blaise shrugged. 

At that moment, Draco’s head popped out from behind the door. “Harry? I have a guest at table 13 who said the cobbler was burnt and everything was just dreadful and is demanding that she doesn’t pay.”

“Don’t tell me she ate everything. I think I’d blow a bloody fuse if you tell me she ate everything,” Harry groaned, rubbing his face. 

“Oh, she certainly ate every last morsel of food that she was given tonight,” Draco replied matter of factly, ignoring the incredulous look that Blaise shot him. Harry took a long inhale of his cigarette before letting the smoke seep out from between his lips. He took a breath. 

“What the fuck is wrong with people today? Everything was fucking perfect on the menu! Who in their right bloody mind thinks this rubbish up!” Harry exploded. Blaise got up and shoved Draco back inside. 

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll handle it!” Blaise called as he shut the door quickly as another glass bottle burst into shards. 

Harry let out a frustrated shout as soon as the door closed.

And it was only Wednesday. 

↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹↹

“We’re going out!” Draco declared on Saturday, walking into the kitchen and around the pass as Harry was finishing polishing his knives. 

“I’m bloody tired, Draco. I don’t want to go out. I want to eat this cobbler and sleep,” Harry groaned, also thinking about the nice steak sandwich Rich had made for family meal that night as well that was tucked in his bag. “I also got that sandwich from family meal and I’m just exhausted,” he whined. 

“Nope! We’re going out. It’s been an abnormally mental week and we’re going to go dancing,” Draco said, forcing Harry to set down his knives as he began transfiguring his trousers into a tight pair of black slacks. 

“Oi! This is my nice pair of trousers! You better change them back after this,” he bemoaned, letting Draco open his chef coat and start tailoring his black shirt to be tighter before casting freshening and cleaning charms over his clothes. 

“They look like almost every pair you own, Potter,” Draco scoffed, a small piece of pink tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he began to fix Harry’s hair. 

“But these ones are new so they’re my nice pair. Don’t even got holes in them yet,” He complained. 

Draco let out a dramatic sigh, finally leaving Harry’s clothes alone as he began tucking the knives into the knife roll. “You will survive, Harry. Besides, don’t you want to dance with me?” He asked, turning towards Harry and having the absolute most pouty look on his face. 

“You’re a brat, you know that?” Harry grumbled, shrugging off his coat and stuffing it into his work bag before pulling out his sandwich. 

He did suppose it was an abnormal week. They never had complaints, but for some reason almost every service that week had some sort of issue from the steak to the wine to the service and every single issue was quite literally a non issue that was made into an issue by whoever complained. 

It honestly really pissed him off. 

So maybe going dancing with his friends and his partner wasn’t the most terrible idea in the world. 

Harry took a bite of his sandwich, savoring the salty cheese and creamy roasted garlic aioli that broke up the meaty steak perfectly. “Who is coming?” He asked around a mouthful of food. 

Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Honestly, don’t talk with your mouth full. Didn’t anyone teach you any manners?” he chided. 

“Not really, no. Too busy being locked in a cupboard as a child, but my Mind Healer said that it’s good that I can joke about it now,” Harry shrugged. Draco looked mildly horrified. 

“You know, I wasn’t sure if those rumors at school were true and I thought that you were joking that one night. That’s… not normal. Who would lock a child in a cupboard?” Draco asked, a bit of anger flashing in his eyes. 

“My aunt and uncle. They’re Muggles. My cousin is rather nice to speak to now since he moved out. Reconciled a bit after I moved back from America.”

“What awful people. Locking a child in a cupboard. We’re circling back to this, Potter,” Draco said sharply, narrowing his eyes a bit. Harry shrugged and took another bite of his sandwich, licking a bit of sauce that had dripped onto his hand. “Honestly, you trauma dump at some of the most random points sometimes,” Draco muttered, eyes following Harry’s tongue. 

“Sorry about it, just happens. Who’s going again?” Harry asked again, popping the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth. 

“Hermione and Weasley will meet us there. Blaise floo called them during the break between first and second service. Then of course Pansy will be there, Blaise, and myself,” Draco said as he began to tighten his own pants before pulling off his jumper and neatly tucking it into Harry’s bag, leaving him in a long sleeved black shirt. Draco pointed his wand at his stomach, beginning to alter it. The shirt shortened around, stopping about four inches past his sternum and effectively turning it into a crop top. He then waved his wand again, the fabric blooming with intricate silver flowers while tightening just slightly on him. Harry watched, feeling his cock twitch slightly as Draco looked at his reflection in the stainless steel stand up before casting one more spell on his trousers to make them ride lower on his hips. Harry’s brain went blissfully blank at the appearance of Draco’s hip bones. “I’ve always been rather good at tailoring charms and transfiguring clothing,” Draco smirked before moving over to Harry to wrap his arms around his neck. 

“Yeah… Sorry, Who’s going again?” Harry said dumbly. Draco merely threw his head back with a laugh, exposing his long expanse of throat that Harry desperately wanted to mark. Before he could duck his head to do so Blaise burst into the kitchen. 

“Come on you two! Let’s get the fuck out of here. I need a drink,” Blaise announced, Pansy following behind him. 

“Hello, darlings. Draco, you look absolutely stunning as always,” Pansy commented, walking around the pass to join them. 

“What about me?” Harry pouted. 

“You’ll suffice,” She waved him off. 

“Oi!” 

“Stop trying to phish for compliments from my wife, Potter,” Blaise chided. 

“I’m doing no such thing, Zabini,” Harry grumbled, knowing that was exactly what he was doing. 

“Here, love, hold still. Before you even say it, yes I will return your clothes to their original state when we get home tonight,” Draco said, breaking away from Harry before beginning to transfigure his chef coat. Harry couldn’t even argue because his chest flooded with warmth at the prospect of Draco saying home. 

Draco had managed to shorten the sleeves on the chef coat and make it look more like a button down that hung open to show his now tight black shirt. The coat didn’t need any additional designing as it was white with thin black stripes and Draco didn’t want to add any patterns that might clash. 

“I love you. Now I might actually fit in,” Harry said, looking down at himself and loving the soft caress of Draco’s magic on his skin. 

“Yes, yes I love you too, what ever would you do without me,” Draco sniffed before shrinking his own work bag and placing it in Harry’s. “Now come on, I want to get drunk.” 

“I second wanting to get drunk,” Blaise said, beginning to herd them out the door. Harry cast his wards and locking charms, gooseflesh rising on his skin almost as soon as they were out in the cold. 

“How are you lot not freezing?” Harry questioned as they began to walk quickly down Diagon Alley only to turn on to Horizont Alley. 

“Whores never get cold,” Pansy said nonchalantly. 

“Don’t call my boyfriend a whore!” Harry said quickly. 

“Oh darling, I didn’t call him a whore. I simply made a silly statement, but you certainly just did,” Pansy shot back with a smirk. Harry sputtered as Draco let out a peal of laughter. 

“Don’t worry, Potter, I’m only a whore for you,” Draco teased, which caused Harry’s brain to nearly shut down. 

He didn’t have to come up with a reply as they finally made it to the Golden Dragon, one of the newer wizarding clubs to open in London. The bouncer merely saw Harry as they approached, immediately waving them through before the line of witches and wizards who were waiting outside the club. Harry ducked his head sheepishly at the couple of shouts of outrage, yet was silently grateful he didn’t have to wait in line. 

The spell restriction wards almost immediately took effect as they stepped through the threshold and once their wands were checked, Harry stood on his toes to see if he could spot Ron and Hermione. 

“Look, they’re over there,” Draco said as he pointed to a booth that was tucked into a corner and already had what looked like a tray of shots and a tray of pints and cocktails on the table. The four made their way over, pushing through the crowd that seemed to move as one while the bass thumped through Harry’s veins. 

“There they are! Heard you three had a right week!” Ron shouted over the music as they began to pile in the booth. 

“Oh, Hermione, it was awful. I had to go shopping by myself and get my hair and nails done with almost no input from my husband,” Pansy sighed, immediately reaching for what Harry suspected was an elvish vodka cranberry. 

“Oi! I wasn't talking about you Pansy! Witch Weekly is doing just fine at the moment,” Ron snorted. 

“Can't a girl dream?” She grumbled before falling into conversation with Hermione. 

“It was rather tense. I'm surprised Harry didn't burn down the place by Thursday with how things were going,” Blaise grimaced, claiming a pint of ale for himself. Harry took what looked like an amber ale for himself, downing almost half of it in one go. 

“Well that answers that,” Ron laughed, taking a sip of his own pint. 

“I thought he was going to burn it down after Wednesday after hearing about the temper tantrum about the steak and then seeing his reaction to the woman who ate all her food and wanted to not pay because it was ‘absolutely horrid! What rubbish!’” Draco said in a shrill voice while claiming the last elvish vodka cranberry. 

“Oi! In my defense, I haven't gotten almost any complaints in two years, almost three! Then that bloody article came out and everyone who ever had a complaint came out of the woods!” Harry exclaimed. 

“Well it hasn't affected your rating at all. I think they all knew they were being somewhat ridiculous, but that's what you have front of house managers for. To please the guests so you can have tantrums in the walk in cooler or in the alley,” Blaise snorted, beginning to pass out the shots. 

“Can you stop saying I had tantrums?” Harry groaned with displeasure. 

“Absolutely not. To Harry and his tantrums!” Draco declared, holding up his shot of vodka. 

“To Harry and his tantrums!” Everyone except Harry declared, raising either vodka or firewhiskey to toast and threw back their shot. 

Harry just threw back the shot. 

“Oh! Check this out. If you want a refill, all you've got to do is tap the glass with your wand and it'll refill and add to the bill. Once you've opened a tab they tap your wand to the slip and then it keeps the line at the bar down. Interesting bit of magic, don't you think?” Ron asked, demonstrating by not only tapping Harry’s almost empty pint, but each shot glass to refill them with either clear or a smoky amber liquid. 

“That is pretty neat. I wonder what kind charms they used,” Draco said, looking at the shot glass in his hand. 

“I don't really care because it looks like Weasley is buying,” Blaise said with a smirk. 

“Oi! You and I both know that we'll end up splitting the bill, Zabini,” Ron cut in. Harry let out a laugh before clinking his shot glass with Draco’s, downing it and setting it back on the table. 

“He's right. Got a bit of a soft spot for Ron, Blaise?” Harry teased, feeling the alcohol start to ease some of the tension he had been carrying that week as his brain felt delightfully fuzzy around the edges. 

“Maybe a bit,” Blaise replied, raising his own shot glass and knocking it back. 

“Maybe a lot,” Draco chimed in, taking his own. 

“It's okay, admit I've grown on you,” Ron smirked, taking his shot. 

Draco drained his drink before motioning for Ron to tap it who obliged with no fuss. Harry shook out a cigarette and waved his usual odorless charm on it before lighting it with a muggle lighter and taking a pull. 

They began to fall into an effortless conversation about their weeks littered with plenty of banter while Hermione and Pansy would chime in every so often. Eventually Draco got tired of chatting and pulled Harry into the mass of bodies, arms thrown around Harry’s neck as they began to dance. 

No one paid them any mind, too caught up in their own rhythm to notice the two moving energetically with each other. Suddenly, the tempo dropped a bit as a muggle song came over the speakers, the DJ insisting that everyone knows the song. 

“Oh, I do rather enjoy this one,” Draco breathed, turning around to press his back into Harry’s front, sliding his hands down Harry as he lowered himself slowly to the floor. 

“What is it?” Harry shouted over the bass, memorized by Draco looked with his head tilted back, rising slowly and turning around to fully face Harry. 

“It's called Everytime We Touch,” Draco shouted back, stalking slowly around Harry as the music began to pick up some tempo. Suddenly hundreds of voices filled the floor as they sang together without you, it's hard to survive. “Jump!” Draco shouted, taking Harry's hand. 

The beat switched to an upbeat and full of energy tempo, Draco jumping side to side with Harry’s hand raised and grasped in his. Harry joined in, jumping with Draco as everyone around them was moving energetically as well. When the lyrics cut out, but the progression continued, it seemed to only spur the energy on as strobes of pinks, purples, and blues flashed on the crowd. 

Harry was practically bursting at the seams, watching Draco let go, laughing and dancing without a care in the world with Harry’s hand clutched in his. Draco directed Harry when he needed to, both of them being jostled by the crowd but not having a care in the world. When the song ended it faded into the vocals of the next song. 

Black dress, with the tights underneath.. 

“Oh I know this one from one of the raves I went to in America!” Harry shouted, bouncing a bit in excitement at knowing one of the songs. 

“Then you lead this time!” Draco shouted back. Harry took both of Draco’s hands laughing as he began to do little twists and turns with Draco, mouthing the words at him. The energy felt almost electric and unlike when they were in Ibiza, Harry was quite thrilled he knew a good bit of the songs this time. The crowd was practically yelling the lyrics and when the chorus sounded, it became one mass of moving bodies again as Harry jumped around pumping their hands in the air above them and yelling the lyrics. 

Suddenly, another hand joined them as Pansy worked her way between them. 

“Dancing without me?” She yelled, pulling the two in close to her by their shoulders. Harry broke contact with Draco’s hand, pushing his sweat soaked hair from out of his eyes. 

“You're here now, aren't you?” Harry asked with a laugh as the trio began dancing together, Pansy between them and making both men couch slightly just to jump with her. 

They continued for quite a few more songs before Harry felt parched, panting slightly and motioning behind him in the general direction of the table. 

“I need a drink!” He yelled before Pansy latched on to one of his hands, Draco's hand in her other. They crowded close together to not lose each other as Harry led them back to the table, collapsing in the booth. “Ron! Would you tap my glass?” Harry asked as Draco settled next to him and Pansy took a spot next to Blaise. 

“How was dancing?” Ron shouted, tapping Harry’s pint glass and the other empty glasses at the table, refilling everyone's drinks. 

“It was brilliant! I actually knew some of the songs! I like muggle music, it's fun to dance to. Even Draco knew some of the songs,” Harry yelled back, taking a drink of his ale and pulling out a cigarette. He cast his charm and lit it. 

“Ibiza felt more… erotic. This was more fun,” Pansy chimed in. 

“That's because you wanted to make Blaise jealous, Pans,” Draco retorted, sipping his drink. 

“You don't have to expose all my tricks, Draco,” Pansy sniffed and the group let out a laugh. 

“It's okay, Pansy, I enjoyed our time together,” Harry mused, letting out a yelp when Draco kicked him from under the table. 

“So sexually charged,” Ron sighed before raising his shot glass. “Minnie would be rolling if she saw us though. To sexually charged Gryffindors and Slytherins supporting inter house unity!” 

“Inter house unity!” They cheered, taking their shots. 

“I do wonder if everyone thinks we're all dating sometimes,” Blaise laughed, sipping his drink. 

“I'd rather not think about that,” Ron grimaced. 

“I think it's rather lovely that we're all friends now. If only I could see my thirteen year old self’s reaction to me being friends with Draco as an adult after punching him in the nose in Third Year,” Hermione said. Harry choked on cigarette smoke, letting out a heaving cough before doubling over with laughter. 

“Did you have to bring that up?” Draco whined, elbowing Harry which only made him laugh harder. 

“I thought it was bloody brilliant as a kid,” Ron said fondly, making Hermione blush. 

“Yes yes, do make fun of Granger nearly breaking my nose in Third Year,” Draco sighed. 

“Well you did break mine in Sixth,” Harry said, a smile playing on his lips. 

“Please don't remind me,” Draco flushed, draining his drink. 

“I think this is good. Talking about our childhood. Brings us together in a way,” Blaise supplied with a shrug. 

“Draco and Harry were definitely brought together. All that hate-sexual tension? Surprising you didn't end up shagging each other by Sixth Year,” Pansy snorted. 

“Well now I have all the time in the world to shag him,” Harry said with a wicked smile. 

“Oi! I don't need to hear that!” Ron complained. 

“Oh Weasley, you don't want to know the half of it,” Draco mused. 

They continued to chat for a while more until a blanket of exhaustion began to settle over the group. They paid the bill, Ron and Blaise splitting it of course, before hugging each other goodbye and making their way to their homes. Draco went with Harry back to Grimmauld and Harry lent Draco a pair of joggers to sleep in after they both cast cleaning charms on themselves to get rid of the sweat from dancing. 

"You know, I really do love you," Harry whispered as they began to pull back the duvet and climb into bed. 

"I know. I love you too. I'm glad Blaise convinced me to come back," Draco said softly.

"Could you imagine telling our younger selves we would be together as adults? Working together and being civil?" 

"I think I would deny it and say there was no way I would be anything but a Potions Master."

"Well, you're a wine master."

"Don't push it, Harry."

Once they were settled in bed and Harry’s head felt like it was wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, he drifted off into a comfortable sleep with Draco wrapped tightly in his arms, thinking about how his younger self would react if he knew he would be utterly obsessed and infatuated with not Draco Malfoy, but Draco Black as an adult.