Pansy said nothing as she continued to peel the carrots. The phrasing Harry used was uncomfortably similar to sentiments she had heard before. For some reason, hearing Harry speak of himself in that regard made the words feel different and not as matter-of-fact.
"Thank you," Harry said when she finished. He took them from her and started chopping them.
"It took me too long," she said, slightly disgruntled.
"It's not a race," Harry said. "No need to prove anything."
She looked at him blankly for a moment. "I suppose," she said slowly. She watched as he cooked the vegetable in oil over the heat until they took on a bit of color. Added herbs, garlic and ginger and thyme, made it that much more fragrant before he combined the mixture with water and increased the heat to bring it up to a boil.
"Normally I'd make a chicken stock with bones and scraps but don't have them or the time," he said. "But while the soup is cooking the veg, I can maybe slow cook the chicken breast in some water on the side to keep it soft, poaching it really, and then shred it and add it in later so the chicken doesn't get tough."
"There are different methods to achieve the same thing?" she asked.
"Yeah, though they have different results. Some better, some worse. I could throw the meat in there now and cook it with the veg but you'd either get underdone veg and overdone meat, or over done on both. I could even roast the chicken or slice it thin and pan cook it and add it at the end. All will give a decent soup by the end, but the process and the flavor will be different."
"Not so much like potion brewing then. Typically one has to stick to a distinct recipe," Pansy said thoughtfully.
"Makes sense. Potions are more finicky usually though some dishes are finicky too." Harry stirred the simmering soup and put the lid on. "There. Now we just have to wait for the flavors to come together. Once they are just about there, I'll add some noodles."
"What do you do while you wait?" Pansy asked.
"Sometimes I sew and do other things with the others. Otherwise, I practice cooking related charms. I actually want to keep working on the charm. Professor Flitwick and I discovered that the better you get at the spell, the less noticeable the taste difference you get." He laid out some more carrots and began casting the spell again and again. "He thinks the more mastery you have over it, the less magic you expend to cast the spell, leaving less of a difference."
"That makes sense," she said quietly, watching him. It was interesting to her to see him work like this. He had already shown that he could cast the spell, yet he wanted to cast it better? Despite performing adequately, acceptably even, he wanted to get better.
And it was not just him. Parvati and Lavender were still working away on their own sewing projects industriously, using a combination of magic and manual skill as well. Pansy watched Lavender undo some stitches and redo them.
"Oh, hi," Lavender said, noticing Pansy standing nearby and watching.
"Why did you undo your work?" Pansy asked.
"They were a bit crooked," Lavender said. "It'd be easier to fix it now instead later."
"Would they show in the final product?"
"Not really, not unless you would go looking for it."
Pansy frowned slightly. "Then why do it over if no one will see it?"
"Because I'd know," Lavender said. "Sometimes I'll let it go, if it isn't something major. But I also want to do my best so it's not a big deal to make a mistake and go back to fix it. If it's for someone, I especially want to make sure it's really good."
"Hey, the bag you gave me last time had crooked stitching," Parvati said.
"That was more you taking one of mine to use," Lavender said, rolling her eyes.
"That is probably the best thing about being in a different House," Padma said. "She can't nick my things anymore."
"Okay first of all, I don't nick your things, I return them eventually," Parvati protested while Lavender and Padma laughed. "Second of all, you do the same to me. Third of all, challenge accepted."
"Don't you dare," Padma said severely.
Pansy sat quietly, listening to the three girls bicker amicably while working on their sewing. Then Harry's voice made them all stop and turn to him.
"Soup's ready I think," he said brightly. He poured out bowls of the steaming chicken noodle soup. "Let's eat!"
.....
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