Fred and George were bound to be disowned, this much they knew. After the stunt they pulled today that made the entirety of Hogwarts chant their names....... yeah their Mam was gonna kill them.
The two of them had already endured the lecture Umbridge gave them when she finally caught them, and her expulsion speech. They had already packed their bags before they pulled off the prank, but they still had to wait for the train to come at 6 A.M. tomorrow.
But who cares, it just gave them time to lounge around and not worry about homework, not that they didn't do that before. The two of them were laying on their own four poster beds and staring at the ceiling. They were slowly coming up with their next prank to put the pink toad into an early grave. They were thinking of going with a type of laxative to get someone to put in her tea, when George's stomach loudly grumbled and interrupted their thinking.
He turned to his brother, "Fred?"
"Yeah?" Fred responded.
"Can you go down to the kitchens and get us a snack, I would go with you but my stomach hurts."
"It's alright, dear brother of mine!!" Fred exclaimed, making a big show of getting up to walk over to the other's bed and placing an over exaggerated smooch on his brother's forehead. "I'll be back before you know it, the usual, right?" George simply nodded as he started to doze off.
Seemingly enough of an answer for Fred, he was off on his little journey to the kitchens to get treacle tarts and pumpkin pastys.
He crept down the stairs and through the portrait, complementing all the paintings as a sort of bribe to not tell on him. He stalked down the staircase and to the main entrance hall and took another flight of stairs down deeper into the castle.
At the end of the stairs, there was a long, dark corridor with food themed paintings. There were paintings of couples on dates and kitchens, fruit baskets and markets.
Fred walked over to the painting with the fruit basket and began to tickle the green pear. After it's giggling fit, the pear turned into a green door nob that Fred graciously took and pulled, revealing the secret passage that lead to the kitchens.
He could hear talking, but it didn't sound as high pitched as the house elves. Figuring he had finally gotten into enough trouble for one day, he slid behind a stack of crates on the right side of the passage. He continued sneaking through the passage way until the light from the kitchen was blindingly bright.
He reluctantly sneaked a peak over the tops of the boxes of potatoes and carrots, and into the kitchen to see who has been talking and conversing with the house elves at this hour.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Draco couldn't sleep, he was too excited. Even if his father had broken out of prison, he wouldn't be anywhere near Draco because of suspicion of helping a felon. It would be too obvious for Lucius Malfoy to return to his 'wife' and son, and there would be too many Aurors keeping an eye on Narcissa and Draco.
If his father wasn't there to hurt him, he could do whatever he wanted this summer. He could be himself, spend time with his family, maybe write some new songs. And sure, he was worried about his father finding him and his Mother, but at least Raymond, Draco's step dad, would be around.
He got to spend time with his little brother, who just turned 9, and he would get to help his Mother with her pregnancy. Even though it was unplanned and not the best of time to happen, Narcissa was ecstatic. And if his Mother was this excited about something, the least he could do is support her any way he could.
And maybe Narcissa wasn't the best Mum, but she was still way better than Lucius.
But this is exactly why Draco couldn't sleep, he couldn't stop thinking. He tried, he really, really tried, but nothing worked.
Not the reading, not working on future class assignments, not even tossing and turning in his bed until he lost the remainder of his braincells.
Nothing was helping.
So, he decided sleep was for nuerotipical, straight, non-mentally ill people. And he was none of those things, so he figured making comfort foods couldn't hurt.
He got dressed quickly and pinned his Inquisitorial Squad pin to his robes, as an excuse to be out of bed at this hour, he would take it off later. He threw on a green sweater with a coat over top and mom jeans with mismatched stripped socks and black converse, and he was off.
He was thinking about what he would make, internally arguing with himself.
'Brownies?'
'No.'
'A type of cake?'
'Asolutly not. Who are you, your grandmother?'
'No, I'm not a wrinkly old bitch, fuck you.'
'Fuck you too, hoe <3'
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. How was he supposed to bake or cook something to calm his nerves when he couldn't figure out what to make?
He then had a brilliant idea, one that was Nobel Prize worthy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fred didn't know what or who he was expecting to see, but it most certainly did not include Draco fucking Malfoy scribbling things on a piece of paper in a circle. He definitely didn't expect said boy to be wearing muggle clothes and conversing with a house elf by the name of 'Dobby', if he remembered correctly.
He was even more confused when the blonde covered his own eyes with his hand and started making a circular motion over the paper. After a few seconds he stopped to look down at the writing he pointed at.
A grin grew over his face as he muttered to himself and began getting up and walking over to a near by book shelf and pulled out a frayed, antique book with a worn spine and yellowing pages.
Fred couldn't help but look at the younger boy's lips, he wasn't smiling, but his grin was definitely swoon worthy if Fred was an example to go by.
He opened the book to the index and began reading down the page. Anyone could tell the blonde was getting a little frustrated after a moment before he supposedly found what he was looking for. He let out a loud, "Haha! Found ya bitch!"
Fred had to stifle his laughter and hid behind the boxes to not burst out cackling. His shoulders were shaking and by the time he looked back over to where Draco was, he was mixing something in a bowl.
It smelled heavenly in the kitchen, and then a record he had never heard before began playing.
Heaven... I'm in heaven.
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek
The voice coming out of the record player was rough and gravely, but absolutely beautiful. He vaguely recognized the voice as someone Hermione had played once when they were all hanging out together.
His name was 'something' Armstrong. He couldn't remember his first name, but he recognized him nonetheless. It was a very fitting song for the occasion.
Draco suddenly looked around him, as if he felt somebody was there. After he figured the coast was clear of people, except for Dobby, his figure seemed to shift.
His eyes were a different shape and colour. One a deep, dark chocolate brown and the other a shocking glacier blue. He had the same nose, different eye shape and colour, different lips, and different hair colour, but he was the most gorgeous thing Fred had ever seen.
He didn't look French anymore, atleast not entirely. He looked Central Asian, his skin seemed to be paler as well, he could easily be compared to fine porcelain. His hair was curly and unruly, similar to Harry's. His lips were fuller and darker, and as Fred stared at him, he felt himself fall in love to the point of no return.
Draco would be his. Needed to be his.
The song slowly faded out and Draco replaced the old record with a new one that read 'Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, And Paul Anka's Greatest Hits'. He pulled the record out of the case and set it on the revolving platter, before he took the needle and set it on the record gently.
He was so gentle with everything he did, it was absolutely mesmerizing.
A new song started to play, and then another, and another. Until one song in particular turned Draco's head up from the needing of dough and he smiled blindingly.
"This is one of my favorites songs, Dobby!" He said as he turned to the house elf.
Dobby nodded knowingly and said in a nasaly voice, "Dobby be knowing Master Draco liked it. Master Draco used to be humming it when you was a child. Paul Anka, me believes, sings it!" The house elf responded cheerfully.
Draco turned back to the house elf and said, "Dobby, how many times have I told you to just call me Draco?"
Dobby squeaked and said in a scared voice, "Dobby is being sorry, Mast- Draco. I will punish mys-"
"No! Dobby so help me merlin if you hurt yourself again because of shit like that-"
"Sorry, Draco! Dobby will be stopping now." The house elf said, trying to calm down the boy.
Draco just hummed and went back to kneading what looked like pie crust. He worked at the dough until his hands hurt, but it would be worth it.
He let the crust rest on the counter and started working on the filling. It was a mixed berry pie, filled with strawberries, black cherries, blue berries, black berries, raspberries, and just a hint of lemon zest.
He slowly works the pie crust into the tin he was cooking it in and dumped the cooked down berries into it. He rolled out the remainder of the pie dough and made an almost realistic floral pattern on the top.
He took what looked like a paint brush and dipped the tip into the pie filling, staining it. He then began painting a flower on the rolled out pie crust. It took him a little bit, but after Draco was done Fred could see a dark red rose painted on the top.
Draco carefully lifted the remaining crust and gently laid it over top of the filling. He began criming the edges and making the classic design of fold and twists. He made tiny incisions around the flower in the shape of rose leaves, making sure to add every detail he could.
Once Draco decided the pie was as good as it was going to get, he opened one of the many oven doors, and carefully picked up his masterpiece and slid it into the oven.
He set a timer that looked similar to Mrs. Weasley's timer at home, except this one was in the shape of an egg. He set the timer down and began reading a book that was not off the shelf, but from his personal bag that was strewn on a chair with his robes and undercoat.
Fred couldn't make out what the book read, it was written in symbols of another language. The symbols were beautiful nonetheless. It was as if each line in each character was fully thought out and considered, as if so much time and thought was put into the beautiful calligraphy.
After maybe 20 minutes (though to Fred it only felt like five), the timer dinged an obnoxious noise. Draco looked up from his book and smiled at the oven. He stood and began to make his way over to the machine.
He didn't even put on oven mitts, just dove right in there. Fred had to physically restrain himself from getting up by punching himself in the dick. He kneeled over in pain and watched as Draco's face didn't falter once, he didn't even flinch.
Fred later realized it probably had to do with whatever his magical race was, but for now all he could think was, 'Holy shit, he has Mam hands!?'
Fred had seen his own mother touch piping hot grease before, but this was a whole new level of fuckery.
When he laid eyes on the pie however, he completely forgot about it and could only focus on how hungry he was. How hungry George must be.
Draco did a few cooling charms, likely as impatient as Fred was at the moment, and began cutting into the piece of art. He set his 1/3 portion down on a paper plate and said to the surrounding house elves, "This is all I'm going to take, if any of you want some, you're more than welcome to have some. Goodnight everyone."
He put his charms back on, grabbed his bag, put on his coat and robes, and began walking down the hallway where Fred was hiding. He mentally cursed himself before he pushed himself against the wall and pulled his hood up, basically hiding in his robes in hopes the now blonde wouldn't see him.
Like most of Fred's creations, it surprisingly worked. Draco walked right past him humming to the music that was still distantly playing.
Once Fred was sure he was gone, no longer able to hear damn near impossibly quiet foot steps and humming that made his brain fuzzy, he slowly eased out of his hiding spot and made his way towards the group of arguing house elves.
"But he didn't be making it for us!" One said.
"But it is being there and looking so good!" Said another.
One finally saw Fred and pointed at him while yelling, "He be taking it! He be taking it and leaving!"
All of the house elves turned to him and stared, until one snapped it's fingers and suddenly the pie was in his hands. It looked amazing.
"Uhm...thanks." He said before he scurried back up to the Gryffindor Tower. He was careful to make sure he didn't drop the still warm pie.
Once he made it to his room his brother was up and staring at his red face in curiosity. "What happened?" George asked sleepily.
"Nothing...just eat this pie with me, yeah?" He responded.
He set the pie down on George's bed and found two no longer needed quils to turn into forks. He did so and sat at the foot of the bed and saw George's face. He was looking at the pie like it was the most magnificent thing he had ever seen.
"Wow.... Who made this?" He had asked.
Fred thought about telling him, he really did. "Dobby." He answered.
"Don't lie to me, I've seen the pies he makes, this is definitely not one of 'em"
He let out a tired sigh, face still red. "....Draco Malfoy."
George looked at him shocked and then a shit eating grin spread across his face. "Looks like you fell in love with a cook, eh Freddie?"
Fred just rolled his eyes and took a bite of the pie and- holy fuck he absolutely fell in love with the baker of this pie, and the pie itself.