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Harry could smell breakfast. This wasn’t unusual for half past 9 on a Sunday. What was unusual was that Harry was still in bed and Draco wasn’t.
Draco never got out of bed before eleven on a Sunday and he certainly never cooked. Not that Harry wanted him to, mind. He rather liked his kitchen the way it was - scorch mark free with the stove intact.
Something was very wrong.
He sat up in bed, groping along the bedside table for his glasses and knocking over a cup of water in the process. He cursed and picked up his wand instead, clearing away the water and summoning his glasses.
He wondered how much damage Draco had managed to do. Harry imagined the microwave in pieces, milk covering the kitchen floor and Teddy’s special Muggle Shreddies all over the table. He stepped into his slippers, a pair of sensible grey ones that Draco called his ‘old man slippers’, and hurried out of the bedroom, only to be greeted by the sight of Draco and Teddy on the stairs, grinning conspiratorially. In Draco’s hands was a tray overflowing with food.
“Harry, nice to see you awake!”
He was grinning. It was difficult enough to get Draco to open his eyes on a Sunday, let alone crack a smile.
“We made breakfast!” Teddy said. “It’s for you!”
Draco had made breakfast .
“It’s meant to be breakfast in bed , not breakfast on the stairs.” Draco said, following Teddy and gesturing towards the bedroom. “So get back in.”
Harry did as he was told, kicking off his slippers and sliding back under the duvet with Teddy. Draco placed the tray down on his lap and Harry forgot about his suspicions for a moment as he inhaled the heavenly scent of the fresh croissant.
“I made it.”
“You what? Draco, you’ve never cooked anything in your life!”
“I’ve been practising. You shouldn’t do all the cooking after what those Muggles did.”
“Oh.” That was unexpectedly sweet, but Harry didn’t trust the smile on his face.
“Harry, I learnt a new word!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Draco hide his face in his hands.
“What is it, Teddy Bear?”
“Fuck!”