The Bet(A Draco Malfoy Short)

A girl with long, dark brown hair, bright brown eyes and an olive complexion stood in the kitchen at Hogwarts chopping up vegetables with a smile on her face.

She dumped the veggies into a hot skillet with olive oil, cut up chicken and cooked rice. She stirred it all together with select spices.

Normally the Ravenclaw would rather be in the library studying, or her dorm drawing. But despite the circumstances she was happy to be in the kitchen cooking after so long, it reminded her of her home over seas.

When the chicken was cooked and everything was mixed to her liking, she removed the skillet from the element and left it to rest. She stirred the bright red and creamy tomato soup in the pot next to it. That was done also.

She then turned around to the cookies on a sheet behind her. They were cooled and ready to go at anytime.

The Ravenclaw smiled to herself as she pulled out a thermos and two containers. She began to load everything up in their designated carrying devises.

Three days ago she had made a bet with her classmate about who would win the quidditch game that had occurred the day prior. She had lost, and in return she was forced to make a homemade lunch for him.

The brunette didn’t dislike cooking, far from it. And her betting partner hadn’t said anything about what he wanted so she had complete free range of what to make, something she simply adored. She carefully placed the containers of soup, rice, and peanut butter cookies into the paper bag along with a bottle of pop she knew he liked and picked it up off the counter. She turned to bid a thank you to the elves in the kitchen and say good bye.

Her ponytail bounced against her back as she made her way to the common room of the boy. She had a spring in her step because she knew he was going to like the lunch she made.

As she reached the door to the dungeon  she recited the password she was forced to learn from the boy. As she ducked in everyone stared and glared at her.

“Sorry to intrude,” She said politely, “Does anyone know where I can find Draco?”

“What do you want with him, Mudblood?” Pansy Parkinson sprung from the sofa and snarled at the brunette.

“That’s between him and I.” She told him, still holding that polite tone, “Is he here?”

By that point a handful of Slytherins had risen from their places and pulled out their wands, a few had a gall to point them at her.

“No.” The Slytherin girl hissed, “And even if he were he would never want anything from a stupid Mudblood like yourself, so do everyone a favor and die already!”

At the girl’s comment the Ravenclaw rolled her eyes, “Fuck off, Parkinson.” She bit, making the Slytherins recoil for a second, knowing her patience had run thin, “All you gotta say is ‘no, he’s not here, now leave before we tell a professor you’re here’. All this name calling and threats are not becoming of you. And they certainly don’t intimidate me. The rest of you should know by know what I can do even with my hands full, so put your wands away. I’ll take my leave now.”

She turned to leave the room, only to pause when hearing her name being called.

“Torri.”

She paused and looked over her shoulder to see the blonde she was looking for walking down from the dormitories.

“There you are.” She spat, “You know I’m not a delivery service. We agreed you’d be outside the kitchen waiting. I had to come looking for you.”

“Shut up.” The blonde hissed as he approached the brunette, “You lost the bet, I could have made it far worse than I did on you.”

“Oh, so I should be grateful?” She countered with a scoff.

“It would be a start.” He said with a smug smirk.

Torri let out a deep sigh before shoving the bag she was carrying into his arms.

“There.” She snarled, “I hope it’s to your satisfaction. And if it isn’t, please take it up with someone who actually cares, because that’s certainly not going to me.”

And with that she turned and left the common room to go up to the Ravenclaw Dorms so she could continue her studies.

Draco watched her leave with a ghost of a smile on his lips. He didn’t expect her to hand deliver it to him like that. Even with the less than pleasant word they exchange almost every day, he considered the Ravenclaw a friend whom he could trust.

“How entitled is that bitch?” Pansy hissed as the brunette left the room.

Draco bit his tongue so as not to say anything against the girl he despised. He simply turned and walked up to his room. Each of the Slytherins technically had their own rooms in a corridor with every other student of their same gender up some stairs. He closed the door and layed out everything Torri had made for him on his bed.

The containers that he had come to know as plastic were clear with brightly coloured lids on them, keeping the content hot and in there. He smiled as he lifted up a bottle of cola. He remembered the first time she had given him one, Torri had told him to shake it up really well so all the flavors would mix and he would get the best experience out of it. It exploded all over his uniform, face and hands. And all the while she was laughing as he tried desperately to clean himself up.

Torri had been a Muggle born witch, so after every summer she would bring back amazing muggle things to show and share with all the purebloods and everyone who hasn’t been exposed to it. Her first year she even became a pen dealer to most students because they didn’t require redipping.

He opened up the thermos to reveal the aroma of tomato soup, and the larger container to allow the delicious fumes of chicken, vegetables and spices to waft out at him. He ate every single bite of it. He found it unbelievably delicious. He knew better about the pop this time, but he used it to wash it down. When he opened the small container his heart warmed even more seeing the indents in the cookies. While Torri had always said she wouldn’t bake for people she didn’t like, he had managed to steal a couple of cookies the few times she had made them for other people, only to find out that they were amazing.

If anyone were to ask the blonde what he thought of her cooking he would turn his nose up and sneer, hissing that she nearly tried to kill him with her horrendous cooking abilities and he wouldn’t eat what she cooks again even if you payed him.

And never would admit, out loud at least, that the true reason he asked Torri to cook for him when she lost the bet was no because he wanted to sample her cooking skills. Rather, it was because every meal he had ever eaten had always been prepared by elves. He wanted to eat something that was prepared just for him, will love. And he knew quite well that she had liked to cook, and would do just that even if she was forced to do it. Because Draco knew that’s just the kind of girl she was. She never had much, but she always had love to give. Even if it was covered in curse words and sarcasm.

As the blonde finished off the last of his cookies, he had one final thought in his mind. And that was to make another bet with the Ravenclaw soon, perhaps he would even have enough guts to tell her the truth.

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