For @drarrymicrofic 85 words to fulfill the prompt History
Harry was cooking with Draco, the ancestral Black magic humming around them. Fright was deep in his bones when they bumped elbows, expecting to receive a blow from a bony hand for 'being in the way'.
None came.
He chopped the vegetables and there was no complaint about the uneven squares, just a kiss on his cheek as Draco began to boil the water for their soup.
He didn't have a good history with cooking, but he was trying to rewrite it with the present.












