"Unfortunately, cooking is not held in high esteem in Wizarding Britain. A good portion of our community is very much, how do I put this politely, image focused." He hummed at their blank looks. "The Pureblood culture tends to be more dominant and for them, one should have food prepared for them. They are very concerned about appearances, both literal and figurative."
"Oh, I understand," Harry said with utter sincerity.
"I'm afraid you do," Flitwick said softly to himself, given what he has learned from the comments he heard Harry made. "So while there are eateries and restaurants and taverns all over, it's less of a prestigious thing to do here. Also from what I understand, British cuisine is a bit maligned as it is and with our culture being so image concerned, it bleeds over."
"You're not wrong," Harry confirmed. "Lots of jokes about how it's bland or not good and how most of it is simple food. Which is a shame, there's nothing wrong with that. Good food is good."
"A good mindset to have," Flitwick said approvingly. "In any case, just like most things, things and customs will wax and wane in time. Perhaps one day we will see a rise in British cooking in our culture. But at least, you can see how some of the rest of the world does it."
"Thank you, Sir!"
"You are quite welcome!" He sniffed the air, looking at the bubbling pot of butter chicken with intense interest and anticipation. "I am terribly excited that I can enjoy this fresh from the pot. Also, what a lovely gift you received." He gestured at the mortar and pestle. "It made short work of the spices."
"I really like it," Harry beamed, making Padma and Parvati smile with pleasure. "And my apron," he said, smoothing out the edges and proudly showing off the additions Lavender made.
"I wanted to try and make you one but we didn't have the right materials," she said, smiling with pleasure as well. "So I ordered one and added the bits to it thinking you'd like it."
"I really do," Harry said. "So much."
"I'm sure Professor Snape will be happy with your mortar and pestle as well," Flitwick commented. He blinked when Parvati muttered something under her breath that made Padma poke her and Lavender giggle.
"Has Professor Snape ever been happy?" Harry said in what he thought was a diplomatic tone.
Flitwick stifled a snort. "It has been known to happen," he said and could not stop from smiling while the four students laughed.
Pansy felt Millicent pressing her foot against hers, the action hidden by the table. Before she could look at her friend, she noticed someone walking up to them in the Slytherin common room. "Hello Draco," she said blandly, looking up at him.
"Pansy," he said back shortly. "I want to talk to you."
"Okay," she said and went back to writing her essay. "Go ahead then," she said as he stood there and fumed.
"Go away," he sneered at Millicent.
"You don't have to," Pansy cut in, giving Millicent a kind look. She ignored Draco's look.
Draco seethed for a moment before visibly swallowing. "May I speak with you in private then?" he asked Pansy.
"Okay," she repeated blandly and got up and followed him a few feet away.
"What did you tell my mother?" he asked when they had a semblance of privacy.
"That I loved her dress robes," Pansy said honestly.
He looked at her, trying to determine if she was mocking him or not. "Did you tell her that we're fighting?"
"Is that what we're doing?" Pansy retorted, showing her irritation and hurt.
"Apparently," Draco sniffed. "Despite me being the bigger man and apologizing."
Pansy snorted. "If you can call it that."
"I did apologize! It is not my fault if you did not accept it!"
She looked at him cooly. "I thought that was one of the Malfoy things, 'never accept anything'."
.....
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