Cannot Speak

"Hey, beautiful."

The armchair swung around and there she was, more beautiful than he could ever imagine.

Except that she was wearing t-shirt and jeans.

"Um, Ginny." Draco didn't know what to say out of confusion and distraction. The way she was sitting, her shirt dipped a little lower than usual and he stared for a moment before Ginny snapped her fingers in front of her chest.

"Hey, I'm up here?"

"Sorry....Uh, Ginny, I told you that Chez was a little more dressed up than jeans, right?"

"Yes." She smiled like that Cat from the Muggle's children's story with Alice. "But we're not going to the Chez."

"We're not?"

"Nope. We...are going...to cook!" She was absolutely glowing and Draco couldn't say no to anything she said at that moment.

"Slight problem. There isn't really anything around the house to eat." He wondered if there was anything in his refrigerator besides alcohol and condiments.

"Don't worry about it. Why don't you go change and I'll get set up."

Draco suspiciously looked at her and slowly mounted the stairs. While he was changing, he could hear water filling up pots and kettles - utensils he barely used, more like bought to decorate the kitchen. When he came back down, he saw her in a white apron and a chef's hat, her red hair tied in a ponytail flowing down her back. And her back. She had turned on the sound system and set it to a station that played hip-hop or pop or something - he was unfamiliar with it. He watched her move back and forth to the beat of the music. When she twirled with a large bowl of lettuce, she saw him and almost dropped the salad. She blushed. "How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough, Miss Rock Star." She blushed even deeper. "Oh, you danced well with your cute little bum bouncing about."

"Oh!" She swatted him with a towel. "Hmph!"

Draco could tell she was trying to keep back from laughing. He poked her with an unpeeled carrot and she couldn't control herself.

"Okay, you caught me, I was dancing."

"Ah, Miss Rock Star who would refuse my offers of dancing back at Hogwarts?"

"That's different; I just didn't want to dance with you." She stuck her tongue out at him and twirled away to attend to some vegetables.

"Is there anything I can do?" Draco looked around at all the workstations that Ginny was handling.

"Is there anything you know how to do? It doesn't look like you cook much."

"I'll have you know I make a delightful cup of coffee."

"Ok, Coffeemaker, want to cut up these carrots? I'll get started on the pasta."

When Draco finished, he stood around, shifting from foot to foot. He finally left the room and Ginny thought, He must have gotten bored. When the pasta was ready, she called out to Draco. "Could you help me bring out the pot of pasta, Draco? It's kind of heavy."

"But of course. We'll eat in the dining room."

"Oh. The dining room? I was hoping we could eat outside." She carried the salad to the dining room and gasped. It was as if they were at the Chez. A deep forest green tablecloth was spread across the rectangular mahogany table. The china was delicately designed, and Ginny could see a red stamp in the corner, what she could only believe to be a signature of the Asian artist. "Oh, Draco, this looks great! It makes me want to dress up."

"No, it's not necessary. You look beautiful as is, holding that salad with tomatoes and carrots." He put down the covered metal pot and took off the woolen oven mitts. "Actually that salad reminds me of you." He motioned to her red v-neck t-shirt.

"Hey!" She took one of the oven mitts and swatted his arm. She sat down at one of the longer sides of the table, expecting Draco to eat at the head of the table. Her eyes lit up when he sat next to her at the long side.

¤~¤~¤

"That was a delicious dinner, Ginny."

"Thanks. Then again, you wouldn't know what home-cooking would taste like, would you?"

"Hey, hey, I can cook if I wanted to. It's like Potions, and who was tops at that?"

"And who was the professor of that class, hm?"

"Ok, ok. So maybe Snape was a little biased - " Ginny snorted. " - but I was good, you have to admit that." Ginny was still smirking. "Ok, so even if I don't cook, I can show you one thing. Come on." He took her right hand and started dragging her from the table.

"Draco! Where are we going?" She licked the remaining tomato sauce off her left hand and walked with Draco. He didn't say anything but grinned at her. They walked through the hallway - Ginny noticed a family portrait and involuntarily shivered at Lucius - and the kitchen and through the door to the deck. She barely had time to admire the beautifully built platform when she was yanked to the paved driveway. "What is this?" she laughed. The plastic/metal contraption looked like a cylinder with several bars and a pump handle.

"Dessert." She raised an eyebrow. "Well, what we're going to make dessert with. It is an old-fashioned Muggle ice-cream maker." He grinned at her boyishly.

Ginny just gaped. "I...have never...seen anything like it before." Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly before she laughed and said, "I don't even know what to ask about it!"

Draco chuckled. "Why don't we make some ice cream and you'll ask along the way?" He opened the green mini-refrigerator hidden by a bush and poured milk and cream with expertise in the bucket. Ginny stood, awed, at the process. When Draco finished adding the ingredients, he asked, "Do you want to churn?"

"Churn?"

Draco took her hands gently and led them to the handle. Ginny looked at him quizzically. "Push and pull." Draco made motions in the air.

Ginny made a hesitant push. She stopped at looked at Draco, who nodded. She pulled up the handle and pushed it down again. She laughed as she continued churning the cream. "So this is how it's done?"

Draco smiled at the image of Ginny doing domestic chores and for a microsecond he imagined them a few years in the future.

"Whew! I'm getting tired. How long does this have to be churned for?" She turned around when he didn't answer. "Draco?" He still had the smile on his face that she mistook for a smirk. "Oh, very funny, making me do the grunt work."

He snapped out of his daydream and shrugged nonchalantly. "You were enjoying it so much that I didn't want to interrupt." He winked.

"Ok, so is the damn ice cream done yet?" She lifted the lid to the bucket and peered inside.

He looked over her shoulder. "Yea, just about. All we have to do is let it set for a couple of days."

She turned to look at him. "A couple of days?! Then how are we going to have dessert?"

Draco removed the bucket and detached some bars. "And that is why - " He opened the refrigerator. " - I have a container in the fridge already." He handed her the cold bucket and ducked out of sight.

"So why did we make more?"

Draco reappeared with cones and a scooper. "I was running out and it's refreshing to sit back and watch someone else do the hard part."

Ginny was overwhelmed at the effortlessness he performed this task. "You eat a lot of ice cream, don't you?"

"Mea culpa¹." He grinned and handed her a cone and licked the ice cream melting onto his hand before scooping for himself. "On the deck, mademoiselle."

They sat on a porch swing, swapping stories from Hogwarts. "Wow." Ginny looked sleepily at the sky. "The moon is really beautiful tonight."

"Hm. I haven't noticed that you can see the moon clearly from here. I guess I've spent a lot of time at the office." His arm was hanging over the back of the swing and Ginny was sitting with her legs tucked under her. "Ginny, why are you here? Last I heard, you were in the States."

Ginny looked him in the eyes and the only thing Draco wanted to do right then was hug her and protect her from whatever gave her that wild, scared look in her eyes. "Let's not talk about sad things tonight, Draco. Tonight is beauty and happiness and dreams." She then leaned on his chest and closed her eyes.

Draco looked up at the sky. Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, Have the wish I wish tonight. Ginny's breathing became shallow and he carefully leaned over to grab a blanket he kept near the swing to cloak both of them from the cool night. He put his arm around the sleeping figure and sighed.

¹Mea Culpa: latin for "I'm guilty"