To Miranda Storm, the prospect of cooking as a hobby, for joy, was an alien one. Neither she nor her husband took any joy in it and she was grateful for the house elf that Ignan had brought to their small home. The witch had never held any strong opinions in the past about wixes owning house elves, and she’d still not given it a great deal of thought since moving in with Ignan. Gerda was treated fairly and seemed content enough. She cooked well, too, and she’d been very good at helping to keep Ignan in line when he’d been recovering or ill.

Miranda shared a smile with her husband before he mentioned teaching him to cook. For a moment, there was no reaction until the smile turned to a smirk and a raised eyebrow. That idea would fail for at least two reasons. The first was that they didn’t succeed in teaching the other anything, the second was her own disinterest in the art of the kitchen.

“I’ve grown rather fond of our marriage, old man.” She answered before forking some curry. There was a plethora of far more interesting and rewarding things they could do as a couple. Like the Sunday crossword.

            “Do you think you’d dare teach me?”
      “I’ve grown rather fond of our marriage, old man.”

Yavin smiled, sipping his chai. It was the almost-reserved smile of one who knew the sparring of words between partners - he envied the two their relationship, for they reminded him so much of his own with Indira. It was not often he reminisced over his late wife, or thought to miss her. The loss had been so long ago. All the same, he felt that old ache the way you sometimes sensed a childhood injury in your grey years.

"Well if you ever, hm, ever find yourself curious to cook," he paused to swallow a bite of tandoori, "or flex your mind magic, Ignan, please, ah, please consider my door open to you."

One could never have too many friends, especially those who understood the intricacies of Legilimency or Occlumency. People who treaded the walls between thoughts and minds. "And, ah, well, Mira knows she is always welcome," Yavin added with a wider smile, "when she needs to test the, um, the walls of her icy palace."

“… please consider my door open to you.”

“As opposed to a window.” Ignan replied, the memory of meeting Yavin for the first time decades ago had freshened in his mind when he’d found his journal from that time. He couldn’t see himself ever feeling that inclined to learn to cook, especially when he got such little pleasure from it and so many others obliged do it so much better. Especially Gerda. Who had a dog and barked?

“Thank you. My legilimency skills don’t see much of a fight against the few students I teach occlumency to these days. Busy minds, teenagers.” Fewer reasons to pry. More reasons to defend his own.

“.. she needs to test the, um, the walls of her icy palace.” Ignan’s lips twitched in amusement at the reference and he quickly glanced away from them both, pretending to be studying their lunch. But he couldn’t help it. Especially after the digs at his disinterest in culinary skills!

“Are you referring to her occlumency or her management style?” He readied himself for a swipe from Mira.

The longer he spent in their company, the better he liked this couple.

Of course Yavin preferred Ignan's conversation -  not only because they shared a distant memory, but because they were closer in age. He felt there was much he could learn in an exchange with the other wizard, whereas with Miranda it was she who did much of the learning. “Are you referring to her occlumency," asked Ignan with a trace of that humour he seemed to otherwise hide, "or her management style?”

He smiled into his tea, winking.

"Oh I would, ahah, would never presume to comment on Miranda's management style," Yavin lied with a laugh.

Once upon a time he had himself been a Healer so he did in fact have thoughts to do with the witch's handling of St.Mungo's affairs. None of them serious or particularly harsh; and who was he to criticise her when his running of Mysteries appeared alarmingly slapdash from the outside? Still. The hospital had been through many disasters under her leadership.

Like any good department head, however, he put that fact aside to be referred to and used another day. This meal was not work - it was pleasure. And he was indeed enjoying himself, content in having made the collective acquaintance of such an interesting pair.