âI second that,â Henry said, nodding when Emmeline said that wine didnât mean fancy. âIâve had wine plenty of places that are the opposite of fancy.â
He was about to continue when Sofiya explained how she and Emmeline met, and Henry out a startled chuckle. Well. That was- not an image heâd expected. But it sounded like something Emm would do, taking care of a drunk stranger and winding up adopting them. Although Emmâs explanation of how she and Henry met was significantly toned down.Â
He leaned against the counter and dug around in the drawers for a bottle opener, twisting open the cork as he spoke in Sofiyaâs direction. âSheâs being generous; an asshole stabbed me and instead of having a soft bedside manner she lectured me for an hour about substance abuse and threatened to call my sister. I snuck out the hospital window just to avoid her.â
He poured three glasses of the wine and very pointedly ignored everything Emm had said about vegetables. Lifting one of the glasses, he let it hover in Sofiyaâs direction and raised a questioning eyebrow.Â
âSo you canât cook for shit either, huh? Welcome to the club! Now weâve got two. Also, are you single?â
âOkay, Iâll believe you.â Sofiya said for the sake of peace, but wine was undoubtedly fancy and she would definitely charm her eyelashes when she went to the bathroom. If she were at home she would just transfigure her casserole into something that looked nicer and salt it a little, but cooking with Emm was one of those bonding activities that the Nott family didnât sign up for often so she didnât complain and instead rapidly started pouring water into a pot.
As she listened to Henryâs correction of Emmâs story, she couldnât help but laugh, which was a pretty fucked up reaction to learning someone got stabbed, but she could perfectly picture Emm scolding a stabbed patient and it was a wonderful mental image. âTsk, tsk, Emm. You have to lock the windows before scolding them.â Really, estranged and worried sisters should always be called. In her worried-estranged-sister opinion, but she knew it wasnât always that easy.Â
Sofiya felt a bit embarrassed by Henryâs second question, not that he wasnât handsome, but something about the concept of flirting in front of Emm felt wrong in the same way talking about her engagement with her father had been weird. Had she taken Emmâs daughter comments too seriously? âI can almost cook, just not when ovens are involved. And I feel like measuring cups are bossy, and preheating is for losers. Also, yeah.âÂ
Emm pursed her lips and waved the poor wronged casserole in Henryâs direction. âI knew you got out of there somehow. Who helped you? Was it Twycross? Sneak!â Figures, honestly. Little turncoat death eater. Though Twycross had definitely struck her as too soft to any real damage, even if she couldnât comprehend why heâd ever consider a side that took lives with such ease.
âKeep it in your pants, Henry Fawley, we are at family dinner.â She scolded even as she smiled at him. Having them both in the same room felt undeniably nice. These two, honesty. She knew theyâd get along but the niggling anxiety that somehow maybe they wouldnât had lingered.Â
âI donât know how either of you manage to feed yourselves. Come here then. Iâll teach you how to make rice and chicken. Henry, get the chicken out of the freezer, will you? Sofiya dear, grab the rice? Itâs in the pantry on the top shelf.â