The door creaked as Harry pushed it open, ushering the two figures beside him inside, before darting in himself, closing the door to keep out the biting cold of the London winter.
The trio sighed in relief as the toasty house lit up to meet them.
“I will never understand how you can stand zis weather, ‘Arry,” Fleur complained, shaking her silvery hair free of her cap as they hung up their coats, “a few hours is all I can be bothered to deal with.”
She knelt beside the third member of their trio, her hands coming up to dust silvery-blonde hair, much like her own, free of the snow that had landed on it, the little girl it belonged to whining lightly as her mother shook her hands through the tresses.
“Its… an acquired taste, for sure,” Harry conceded, “Though Fae is fine with it. Right?”
Fae glanced at her dad, “Uh… y-yes?”
Harry gasped, staggering back as he clutched at his heart, “Is that… uncertainty? Betrayed! I am betrayed!”
Both girls giggled at his actions, Harry himself joining them shortly after as they made their way into the living room. Fleur made a beeline for the fireplace, lighting it in record time, and the family sighed once more as warmth suffused the cozy little room.
“Papa,” Fae looked up at him, green eyes wide, “What's for dinner?”
Harry smiled, bending down to scoop his little girl up into his arms. “You know what, Fae? I don't know. Why don't you decide what we’re going to have?”
The six-year-old girl’s eyes lit up, twinkling. She breathed in...
He glanced at Fleur as she stifled a chuckle, holding up three fingers as she counted down.
Three.
Two.
One.
“PASTA!” The three of them said at once.
Fae blinked. Her green eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms and pouted at her parents, cheeks puffed out adorably.
Harry couldn't help himself as he leaned in, planting a kiss on her nose, laughing as he watched it crinkled cutely.
Setting her down, he made for the kitchen. As he perused the cabinets, grabbing ingredients, he felt a pair of slim arms wrap around his midsection as Fleur embraced him from behind, planting a kiss on his shoulder.
“Do you need my help, ‘Arry?” she whispered into his ear, the tease.
“Always,” He muttered, craning his head back to peck her cheek, “Could you boil the pasta please?”
She nodded against his neck, squeezing him tighter for a brief moment, before pulling away. Bending down, she pulled a pot from the cabinet, filling it with water and sprinkling in salt as she set it on the stove.
“Mama?” Fae called from the entrance of the kitchen, flushing lightly as her parents turned to her, “c… can I watch?”
“Of course dear,” Fleur smiled lovingly at the little silvery haired girl, gesturing her over.
Fae scurried closer, giggling as her mother picked her up and deposited her on the countertop, near where Harry had already begun chopping up some tomatoes.
“Ahem, My Lady,” Harry began in an exaggerated manner, revelling in his daughter’s silent laughter, “Today, we shall be preparing Spaghetti Aglio e olio!”
He gestured to the pot, where the pasta already bubbled, “First, we prepare the pasta itself! We place the spaghetti into a pot of boiling salt water, and let it cook!”
He leaned over to her, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “Between you and me, this is the boring bit.” Fleur shook her head as she watched Fae burst into giggles at her father’s theatrics, pulling out a strainer and dipping it onto the pot.
“Meanwhile, if My lady would cast her eyes over yonder,” Harry continued, “This one is slicing beautiful, sun dried tomatoes, for putting on the pasta afterwards.”
“Now, my lovely assistan - oof,” He was cut off as Fleur’s elbow dug into his side, “ahem, I mean Beautiful co-chef, is straining the pasta into a pan. To this, we add olive oil, salt, and oregano, and cook!”
Fae’s eyes sparkled as she watched her father mix the olive oil into the pasta, watching him swirl it around as he finished up.
“Now, we plate!” Harry exclaimed, taking the pan off the stove, as Fleur pulled out a trio of plates, “We simply portion the pasta onto each plate, add some tomatoes to top it off, and voila!”
Fleur laughed as she watched Fae ignore Harry’s exaggerated flourish, the young girl’s eyes fixated on the food. Her family was so over the top, it was hilarious.
But, she mused, as she watched her daughter practically inhale her food, as she shared a glass of wine with Harry, she wouldn't have traded it for the world.