Cash usually felt as if he was playing pretend, when he was in kitchens - wealth had shielded him from having to learn to do many of the basic tasks other people knew how to do, and so when he did actually have occasion to be in a kitchen, it was usually Angie's, and she didn't trust him much in it. Still, a kettle was so basic that even Cash could do it on automatic - but, with magic. Standing on his toes to double-check that there were no muggles right outside the window, Cash filled the kettle and lit the stove with different incantations, and then set the kettle on the lit stove to wait.

He was starting to feel tired, he realized with some surprise - like the levity of the pair of them bouncing down the stairs had broken some sort of manic spell that was piloting him around. He was not nearly tired enough to call off tea, though - maybe they could drink tea and then head to bed - and instead Cash leaned against the unlit half of the stove and rolled out his neck and shoulders with a few lazy stretching motions.

"Any luck?" he asked.

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Ford was a bit surprised to hear spells, and glanced back over his shoulder once to make sure Lestrange had it all in hand. There wasn't anything wrong with putting a kettle on by magic, but it wouldn't have occurred to Ford. They'd always had a cook, but tea was one of those things that crept in around meals all the time, so he'd done it himself plenty of times when he'd still been a teenager. Maybe it was easier to do with magic, but now he had the muscle memory from before he'd been allowed spellwork. Maybe Lestrange was one of those people who liked to do everything with magic. Ford wasn't — obviously, since one of his main hobbies involved regularly surrounding himself by Muggles who were on high alert for anything supernatural.

He rustled through the pantry, and came out with a tin of what looked like tea, though it wasn't labeled. He eyed it critically, then pried off the lid. "I think so," he said, giving it a sniff. "Smells like tea. What's the worst that could happen?" He did not imagine the Muggles kept tins of dried poison in the pantry, or anything melodramatic like that.

  

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"Poisoning, probably," Cash said brightly. He fished two mugs out from the cabinet next to the stove, placing them neatly on the countertop. "But I think we can stand the risk, don't you?" It was also unlikely that the muggles would keep poison around in a kitchen, for a multitude of reasons - even if the house was 'haunted' it would be hard to get people to stay here if they were dying all the time - but it was simply the only worst case scenario he could come up with.

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Ford shrugged and moved out of the pantry and back towards the kitchen, where he set about finding a tea basket. If they had a kettle and they had mugs and they had tea, there was bound to be a basket around here, and there were only so many logical places to put one — it took him about thirty seconds to locate one in a drawer. "You can try it first, just in case," he suggested with a teasing grin, as he shook tea leaves out into the basket and then replaced the lid on the tin. "My brother would never forgive me if I died doing something stupid, and he inherited the whole mess with our sisters."

Not that he thought there was any chance the tea was actually poisoned. He would not have been so cavalier about it if he suspected there was any actual danger, but aside from rogue book-ends, this manor was probably safer than most magical places they could have been staying. Even the book-end wouldn't have actually been a problem if they hadn't been doing things their hosts likely never intended for them to do, crawling around on the floor and looking for hidden wires, so really that was their own fault.

  

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"Oh, that's fair," Cash said, "With two brothers, the Lestranges would be entirely fine continuing on without me, I think." He followed it with a wry smile, for all that it was mostly true - Greengrass didn't need to know of Cash's weird relationship with his father and his family name, because that was the sort of thing that Cash ought to keep from everyone but Angie.

The kettle started to whistle; Cash picked it up and poured the hot water into the tea basket.

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It was like the steam from the kettle broke a spell; as soon as Lestrange started making the tea Ford remembered how much he'd needed it a few minutes ago. His eyes felt tired and he yawned before he could prevent himself.

When the tea was finished steeping he took the basket out and deposited it in the sink, then leaned against the counter to sip his tea. He wanted to sink into a chair with the mug cupped in his lap, but they didn't have anything to sit on in the kitchen — too grand a house for that, he supposed. "I think we've hit all the rooms now," he pointed out. "And survived the witching hour." Unspoken: so I really hope you're ready to sleep, after this.

"What'd you think of your first haunted house?" he asked, sipping the tea (he had already forgotten about asking Lestrange to test it for poison first). "Frightening enough?"

  

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Cash leaned against the kitchen counter next to Greengrass and sipped his own tea. "Definitely," he said, with a wry smile. A little more genuine: "I wasn't entirely sure what to expect, even though you told me a bit. But I think it's been really fun. And the right amount of scary." Just enough adrenaline to punctuate his usual whatever, and other than the weird thing earlier Cash hadn't gotten trapped in any rabbit holes of his own anxiety.

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Ford nodded, then smiled into his mug. He hadn't ever found someone else who thought the things he was interested in were fun, and he hadn't particularly expected to find that person in Lestrange. It didn't seem probable, on the surface of it. He was from one of those wealthy pureblood families. He played professional Quidditch. He was a Ravenclaw, and they were supposed to be too intellectual and academic to enjoy silly things like this. His response seemed genuine, though, and his excitement earlier would have been hard to feign.

"Want to do it again, sometime?" he asked. "Or would you rather try a seance next?"

  

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"We can do both," Cash said, with a genuine smile over his mug. "I'd love to start by checking out a seance, though." He doubted that it would be nearly as exciting as the haunted house - it sounded more in the vein of the muggles telling them stories over dinner - but the dinner stories had been very fun, and he wanted to watch Greengrass try to keep a straight face during a seance.

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   Fortitude Greengrass

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Both meant spending quite a bit of time together, which was exciting. Lestrange had given him every reason to think that he enjoyed Ford's company tonight, of course, so it shouldn't have been surprising, but it was pleasant to be reminded all the same.

"I'll keep my eyes out for a good one," he said with a grin. He took a sip of tea, then added a little mischievously, "But I think I'll make you buy the tickets. Especially if you don't understand Muggle money," he teased — he still thought Lestrange had gotten off a lot easier during their earlier conversation in front of the Muggles, so he deserved it (and could afford it — not that Ford was letting on about that).

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   Cassius Lestrange

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Cash sipped his tea. "All right, deal," he replied, "But only if you promise to explain to me the - weird coin things." There were too many units and they all seemed to have the same name, he didn't get it. (He also had never tried very hard.)

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"I'll give you a whole lesson if you like," Ford joked with a light chuckle. On the one hand it seemed silly to have to explain something quite simple in such explicit detail — the money system had never been particularly difficult for Ford to grasp, and even without having to deal with it in order to get himself tickets to seances, he had to exchange it with some frequency when he had to go through Muggle London for work. Lestrange's job wouldn't regularly give him a reason to interact with Muggles, though, or to be in Muggle areas unless he went out of his way to do it. And there had been a whole lesson in Muggle Studies that was just about money, so clearly the system wasn't as intuitive to everyone as Ford might have assumed.

  

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"I'll let you know if it's needed," Cash said with a wry smile. The expression drew a yawn out of him, and he stifled it behind his fist. "I feel bad that you have to work tomorrow morning," he admitted, still looking wry. Hopefully Greengrass wouldn't be annoyed enough by the experience to stop doing haunted things with Cash; he really was fond of the idea of doing more haunted things with the other man.

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   Fortitude Greengrass

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MJ made this!

Ford caught the other man's yawn and raised one hand to cover his mouth. He set his tea down on the counter so that he could stretch again with his other arm, reaching back until he could feel his shoulder muscles ripple appreciatively. "Don't feel bad," he said, through the tail end of the yawn. "I'm the one who suggested it. And tomorrow's only Friday, anyway. Fridays aren't that big of a deal."

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   Cassius Lestrange

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Set by Lady!

He needed Greengrass to stop stretching; or, he needed to stop watching Greengrass stretching; or, Cash smiled down into his mug so he didn't have to think about these things. "Oh, good," he said, "I'm glad to hear that about Fridays." He took a sip of tea before he looked back up at Greengrass.

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Ford nodded, smiled. "I should probably get to bed soon, though," he pointed out, turning to counter so he could finish off his cup of tea.

  

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