Title: A Muggle Way of Life
Author: Reyn
Rating: Not sure…T for now due to language, but if I expand this, it might get moved up to M
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy, let alone anything else in the world of J.K. Rowling.
Warnings: Malfoy's putdown of technology, real life experiences (not mine), and probable lack of slash action (nooooooo!). LoL. Jest kidding, folks! Maybe. Heh.
Author's Note: This is jest a fun little story I started writing one day. There probably won't be much action, but I'm attempting to add sexual tension in its place (I've never written sexual tension before, so bear with me). I hope you all enjoy it, and if you do, leave a review!
Chapter Dedication: Calvin and Hobbes comics for the popcorn fiasco and the exploding potato

CHAPTER 1: Food Clueless and Potions Hungry

"Potter, I'm hungry!"

Harry rolled his eyes and ignored the drawling voice, keeping his focus on the potion he was currently attempting to complete. After nearly a month of being stuck together under the same roof, Harry came to learn that pretending Malfoy was not there was the easiest way to deal with him. This, of course, infuriated the blond to no end, and wasn't really the best idea considering this was a very modern muggle dwelling. Already, Malfoy had broken the dryer, hexed the outlet in the bathroom for shocking him when he touched it with a wet hand (which resulted in a blackout throughout the neighborhood), snapped the light switch off the wall from playing with it too much, and dented the dishwasher door when he kicked it for not washing dishes fast enough.

Now, at this point you all are probably wondering why Harry and Malfoy were holed up in such a joint away from the wizarding world. To be honest, not even Harry himself was sure about why he was in this odd little predicament either, especially with Voldemort still at large.

Last he checked, Malfoy despised the Light Side and even went on to receive the Dark Mark immediately after graduation. The weird twist came nearly a year later when Malfoy was found at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, demanding to speak with its owners. Once Fred and George had finally shown up, Malfoy insisted on being granted an audience with Dumbledore, but was reluctant to say why.

After a private meeting between the two, Dumbledore approached Harry and told him that he was to watch over Malfoy and keep him alive at all costs. With that said, the two boys were shipped off to an extremely muggle part of London where they were told to stay put and refrain from drawing attention to themselves.

"Potter, are you deaf? I said I'm…" Malfoy trailed off as he saw Harry standing over the sink, stirring a bubbling cauldron inside it. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"I thought I was weeding the garden, but suddenly I'm not so sure," Harry replied sarcastically.

"You're making a bloody potion aren't you?" Malfoy asked as he stepped further into the kitchen.

"No shit, Sherlock," Harry said half-heartedly as he peered at his book to read the next few steps.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed at the unfamiliar muggle retort, but chose to let it slip as he cautiously peered into the cauldron only to snap back from the reeking fumes. "Fuck, Potter! Are you trying to poison all the food in the kitchen? What are you concocting!"

"Er…Le Guess-tee doo Jardin," Harry said, struggling to pronounce the title.

"Le Geste du Jardin? The Flourishing Garden? That's got to be the ponciest potion ever created! Why are you of all people attempting it?" Malfoy sneered.

"Well…the garden's looking pretty weak, despite my efforts so…" Harry shrugged as he trailed off.

"Whatever. You just want to enter that 'Prettiest Backyard' Contest or whatever that stupid flyer called it," Malfoy said maliciously.

Harry said nothing, but his cheeks took on a slightly pinkish hue.

"Honestly, Potter, if I hadn't seen you out on that date with Cho Chang back during our fifth year, I'd swear you were a poof," Malfoy commented as he moved over to the refrigerator. "Besides, the potion should be pink, not that murky brown color."

"Er…right…" Harry said somewhat unsurely as he went back to looking over the directions to see what went wrong. But something gave him pause. "Malfoy? How do you know what color it should be?"

Malfoy froze midway through his rummaging. "Er…my mother used to make the potion and have our old house elf use it on the gardens. She also liked to pour some in the bouquets we put up during parties and such."

"Oh."

"Anyways, you should give it up. There's no way you'll be able to save that now," Malfoy said. "You should do something more constructive with you time. Like making me lunch."

"Make your own lunch," Harry retorted.

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm busy."

Malfoy snorted. "Oh yes, ruined potions that might as well be deemed lost causes are so time consuming."

Harry went back to ignoring him.

Seeing as how his arrogant attitude would get him nowhere, Malfoy switched tactics.

"But, Potter, you always make the best meals."

"I make the only meals. And you always make faces and poke at them and refuse to eat until hunger gets the best of you. And even then, you act like each mouthful is pure torture," Harry said.

"I only did that during the first few days!"

"No, you did that for the first two weeks. The first few days, you chose to starve yourself from the confines of your room during your attempt at boycotting all the muggle devices in the house."

Malfoy frowned. "Fine! I'll just make my own bloody lunch!"

When he didn't receive an answer from Harry, Malfoy went back to going through the refrigerator, trying to decide what he felt like eating. After a bit of thinking, he decided that he was craving fish and chips and started to look for those. When he didn't spot any, he frowned. They had to have fish and chips! At least the chips! Potter was able to make just about anything on any given day, therefore the food had to be here somewhere.

Giving up his search in the fridge, Malfoy moved to the pantry. After a few minutes, he spotted a bag of potatoes. Well, chips came from potatoes, right?

Proud of his discovery, Malfoy grabbed one potato out of the bag and turned to look around the kitchen. Now what?

His vision came to rest on the microwave. True, he didn't know much about muggle kitchen devices, but he had watched Harry cook from time to time. Marching up to the microwave with purpose, Malfoy opened its door and set the potato in and closed the door and waited.

Nothing happened.

Frowning, Malfoy tried to figure out why the blasted thing wasn't working. Suddenly, he remembered. Harry usually pushed some buttons on the side panel.

Blinking at the pad, Malfoy pushed several of the number buttons and then set about pushing other random buttons until the thing came to life and started to hum.

Satisfied at his work, Malfoy sat down at the table and began to sift through the junk mail they received through the muggle post. Most were addressed to 'current resident' although a few sported 'Mr. Potter' since the house was under Harry's name.

Using their real names had been decided as the safest way to go by Hermione. She had reasoned that the Death Eaters would be keeping a look out for pseudonyms of Harry and Malfoy's names, and as long as the two didn't go about giving out their full name to anyone, they would be fine. Everything was under Potter's name because the names 'Harry' and 'Potter' were rather common, whereas 'Draco' and 'Malfoy' were not.

After a few minutes of silence (with the exception of the hum of the microwave, the bubbling of the cauldron, and the rustling of paper), Harry spoke.

"Malfoy, what's that smell?"

"I told you that sorry excuse for a potion was turning toxic," Malfoy drawled as he continued to flip through the advertisements for clothing.

"It's not that…" Harry trailed off as he sniffed the air. His attention was drawn to the sound of the microwave. "What are you warming up?"

"I'm making myself chips and no, you can't have any."

"But we don't have any ready made chips…" Harry said, partially to himself. "What did you put in the microwave?"

"A potato." Came the bored reply.

"What? You can't make chips by putting a potato in the microwave!"

"Why not?"

Harry was about to answer when the odd smell doubled in strength.

"Malfoy, how long did you put it in there for?" he asked.

"Not sure. It's been in there for quite a while though. Do you suppose it's done yet?"

BOOM! SPLAT!

Both boys' heads snapped in the direction of the noise where they saw the inside of the microwave glass door dripping in pale slop.

"Hey, my chips!" Malfoy exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. "What did you do to my potato, Potter!"

"What? Me! You're the idiot who put it in the microwave!"

"Yeah, I put it in there, but I didn't ask for it to explode!"

Harry simply glared. "I'm not cleaning that up."

"You don't expect me to clean that!" Malfoy exclaimed.

Harry's glare didn't waver.

"But that's House Elf work! If you want me to clean that, you'll have to give me my wand."

"No. You know the rules. We have to refrain from using our wands to avoid detection," Potter scolded.

"Unless it's for an emergency," Malfoy added.

"An extreme emergency," Harry corrected.

"But this is an extreme emergency! I can't touch that! The starch will get all crusty on my hands!" Malfoy said.

"I think Dumbledore meant 'life-or-death' when he said extreme emergency, not dirty hands."

"Well, there's no way I'm touching that." Malfoy crossed his arms as a stubborn look settled on his face.

"Fine. I'll get it later. Just find yourself something else to eat," Harry said with a sigh as he turned his attention back to the potion which had gone from a murky brown to a dark, almost fleshy color. Hopefully a few more corrections would bring it up to the healthy pink it was supposed to be.

Harry eyed the bowl of crushed pine needles, debating on whether or not those would help if added. At this point, he was simply throwing in random ingredients, and so far it seemed to be working.

Grabbing the pine needles, he dumped them into a bowl before adding two acorns. He then began to grind them together, ignoring the sound of something being poured into a metal pot.

Harry continued to ignore the sounds coming from Malfoy's direction until a loud 'POP!' forced him to turn.

"What in Godric's name are you doing!" Harry shouted as several more popping noises quickly preceded the initial one.

"I'm making popcorn," Malfoy said defensively as several more kernels came flying out of the uncovered pan.

"Bloody hell! Put a lid on it!" Harry said as he quickly abandoned his position by the sink and hurried over to the stove.

Malfoy simply frowned as the distinct smell of something burning drew his attention away from Potter and back to the stove. A small shout escaped his lips as the dried corn kernels suddenly erupted into flames.

Both Harry and Malfoy simultaneously dove under the kitchen table as several more fiery kernels exploded, shooting hazardously around the room.

"Damn it, where's the fire extinguisher!" Harry yelled in frustration as his eyes combed the kitchen.

"It's called 'water', Scarhead!" Malfoy retorted from his huddled position next to Harry.

Harry said nothing as he jumped up from behind the table and made a mad dash to the sink, dodging the mini missiles that flew in his direction.

Without even bothering to think twice, he grabbed the cauldron, ran back to the stove, and dumped the potion on the roaring fire causing the flames to instantly die without so much as a hiss.

Malfoy cautiously peered over the edge of the table to see Harry standing next to the stove, breathing heavily while looking in his direction.

"You alright?" Harry asked.

Malfoy simply nodded as both boys glanced around the kitchen. Small flames dotted several places, but other than that, no harm seemed to be done.

With a sigh, Harry grabbed a large cup from the cupboard and headed back to the sink, preparing to put out the tiny fires that now decorated their kitchen.

Malfoy, on the other hand, ignored the fires around him and approached the rather large mess on the stove. Peering into the pot, he sneered at the grotesque sight inside.

The still bubbling mess now sported odd-shaped lumps and swirls of charcoal black throughout its murky pink color.

Wait. Still bubbling?

Malfoy blinked and leaned in closer. Sure enough, the contents inside the dish were bubbling, and violently so.

"Potter?" Malfoy asked hesitantly as he slowly backed away from the stove

"What?" came the weary reply.

"It's boiling."

"What?" Harry turned, confused by what Malfoy had just said.

No sooner had he turned, the pot on the stove exploded. Shards of metal went flying as the poor excuse for a gardening potion covered the kitchen. Decrepit looking plants suddenly sprouted around the trash can and near the pantry.

Neither boy even had time to duck, and simply stood staring at each other until Malfoy managed to bark out a laugh as some of the potion slid off Harry's glasses, allowing him to see properly.

"Merlin! That was more fun than exploding the potato in the microwave!" Malfoy laughed.

Harry glared. "Yeah, you would laugh. Look at you! It looks as if you're wearing a bleeding helmet of dragon dung!"

Malfoy's amused expression quickly transformed into one of horror as he dashed off to the bathroom, leaving an angry Harry behind.

Looking around, Harry groaned as he grabbed a rag and bucket and got ready to clean and disinfect the entire kitchen.