"Two hours?" Anne glanced at her watch. "Alright. Why don't you lie down on the sofa and get some rest? I'll wake you when it's ready."
"No, you go ahead to the kitchen," Hermione said. "You can make some for Ron too, so he can eat when he wakes up."
"Alright, alright, my girlfriend," Anne said with a small smile. "But I still have to remind you, think of yourself first before worrying about everyone else."
Resting her cheek on her arm, Hermione had a clear view of the kitchen through the open door.
Anne unpacked the groceries first, sorting everything neatly into the cupboards before she began to handle the ingredients Hermione had left.
Her movements were smooth and efficient, Anne was completely focused when she cooked.
She picked up a piece of prepared pork chop from the market, set it carefully into the frying pan with a pair of chopsticks, and the air instantly filled with the sharp hiss of oil. Using a small wooden spatula, she pressed gently on the meat, watching the heat with practiced eyes. With her other hand, she poured a mix of seasonings into a small dish.
She flipped the chop. The browned surface was just right, and the scent of sizzling meat spread warmly through the room.
When she poured the sauce into the pan, the sizzling grew louder, the aroma richer.
Without missing a beat, Anne lifted the lid of a pot beside her to check the water inside.
Not boiling yet.
She cracked three eggs into an empty bowl and whisked them briskly. Then she tore open a carton of sweet milk and poured in roughly the same amount, about one to one, stirring it evenly before covering the bowl with plastic wrap. With her chopsticks, she poked a few small holes in the film.
Another quick flip of the meat.
The water had begun to boil. Anne fitted a perforated steamer plate into the pot and set the bowl of egg and milk mixture on top. She checked her watch, replaced the lid, and turned her attention back to the counter.
She sliced a chicken breast into diamond-shaped pieces, drizzled them generously with shrimp sauce, mixed them well, and arranged them neatly on a plate.
Turning the flame lower, she flipped the pork once more.
Another round-bellied pot went onto the stove. Anne poured in a good amount of water, added two measuring cups of rice, turned the flame to high, and covered it.
She picked up a pear, and the knife rose and fell with rhythmic precision, eight perfect pieces, core removed, set neatly into a clean dish.
The pork was done. She plated it on a white dish, drizzled a touch of olive oil and black pepper sauce over it, then placed it all on a square tray. After turning off the heat, she lifted the lid from the steamer,
The steamed egg custard was just right.
A few spoonfuls of sweet red bean paste went on top.
Anne arranged everything neatly on the tray, added a knife, fork, and spoon, and carried the meal out of the kitchen.
"That was fast," Hermione said, pushing herself up on her elbows, watching Anne.
"Couldn't get enough of watching me cook?" Anne teased with a smile. "Weren't you going to sleep? I just hurried a bit, besides, eating too much before bed will make your stomach ache. So this meal, you'll share with me."
Before Hermione could reply, Anne held a small piece of pork to her lips.
"It's good," Hermione said after the first bite.
"You've eaten this before," Anne said, cutting herself a piece and tasting it.
Hermione tilted her chin slightly. "Is that egg pudding?"
"Mhm. A dessert. You can eat it with a spoon now, but be careful, it's still hot. And make sure you get a bit of the red bean with every bite. That's what makes it good." Anne spoke as she sliced another piece of meat and offered it again.
Hermione took it, then said, "Maybe I'll wait a bit. Otherwise you'll complain about mixing flavors again, won't you?"
"I only said that once," Anne said, passing her another piece anyway.
"But I remember," Hermione murmured.
"Fine, fine," Anne shrugged, smiling as she cut another bite.
"You should eat too," Hermione said. "I saw another pot still on the stove, what's that?"
"Poridge," Anne replied. "You said to make something for Ron, so I figured rice porridge would be good. It'll be warm when he wakes up, and filling. I'm keeping it on low heat, so Harry can have some too when he's up."
"Will there still be any left when I wake up?" Hermione asked.
"If not, I'll make more for you," Anne said. "Small batches cook faster. Now, finish the meat, then the pudding, and the pear last."
When Hermione finished the pear, Anne was quietly spooning up her egg custard.
"You're not going to sleep?" Anne asked.
"I have something to tell you," Hermione said.
"Can't it wait until morning?"
"What if I oversleep and you've already left?"
"I still have to make porridge for you—" Anne began, but her pace quickened slightly as she spoke.
In the bedroom, Anne hung up her cloak and backpack on the rack.
Hermione opened a drawer and pulled out a stack of papers.
"What's that?" Anne asked, walking over. When she saw the handwriting, she froze.
"A surprise," Hermione said, spreading the papers on the table before wrapping her arms around Anne. "The handwriting's almost identical, isn't it?"
"You? How? How did you—?"
"I took a few of your notes from your backpack and copied them. I'm sorry, Anne, I didn't tell you beforehand. But once I broke the words down into twenty-six letters, it wasn't that hard to learn."
"You learned…? But—"
"I want to help, Anne. And I want to apologize again for what I said before." Hermione looked straight into her eyes. "I've thought about it. If you're carrying all this responsibility, then I want to carry half of it with you. I'll sign the operation plans. If something goes wrong, I'll face it with you. For the Order's missions, we'll plan them together. And if this war really costs lives, I'll share your guilt, your burden. Don't shoulder it all alone, please. It hurts to watch."
"Hermione, I—"
"Don't refuse me," she said softly, and then she kissed her.
A long, tender kiss.
"Hermione… I, I don't know what to say," Anne murmured when they finally broke apart. Her voice was low, hoarse, her eyes glistening.
"Then don't say anything," Hermione whispered with a smile. "I've said what I wanted. Now I'm going to sleep."
"Wait, Hermione. I, I need to tell you this. The outer network of the Order… it doesn't always follow traditional morals. I mean, sometimes, to get information, I have to do whatever it takes—"
Anne hesitated. For the first time in a while, she looked afraid.
"I understand," Hermione said quietly. "Anne, maybe before, I didn't really know how to be a good girlfriend. But this time, I think I can start here. I won't force you to do things my way, even if I still struggle with that. It's hard to change. But that's alright. Because I know one thing: I love you, Anne."
"No matter how dark the things you do might be. In other words, I've decided, if you step into that black, dangerous world, I'll step in with you. Everyone has their own path, and mine has already become entwined with yours. That's what you once told me. Now, I'm saying it back to you."