Extra: Florana's Gift

It was a peaceful Saturday like any other, most students were busy visiting Hogsmeade, enthusiastically spending their monthly allowance on pranks and candies; the perfect opportunity for Florana to work on her big surprise.
Walking side by side down the stairs was a pair of students: Florana herself and Haitham, her teacher; the young Slytherin was known to speak French and happily accepted to teach it to his dear friend, and today was a special day, he was also going to teach her how to cook.
"Nous allons à la cuisine... We are going to the kitchen!" He said, with his usual booming voice and wide smile.
"New zallow a law coo we zeene" repeated Florana, frowning slightly.
"Presque! Almost! Essaye encore! Try again!" Encouraging his friend, Haitham tickled the pear to the Kitchen, gallantly waving Florana inside.

The two students' laughter echoed through the empty kitchens, the Elves and troublemakers had just finished washing the dishes and the large room was now deserted... Or so they thought. Working diligently and almost hidden was that elusive but recognizable Gryffindor student; tasting the content of her cauldron, the strange girl was cooking in silence, fully aware of their presence but not yet spotted by the duo.

"Eee!" yelped Florana in surprise, her sudden jump disturbed a tower of utensils that clattered and banged loudly, echoing through the entire room, a visibly pained expression was plastered all over Margaret's face through the entire racket.
"Oh! Hey! Mega... Margaret! Sorry, we didn't see you there!" said Haitham, trying to make eye contact with her green eyes while helping Florana up.
Not looking at him and waving her wand to clear the mess, Margaret answered quietly "Hello."
"Uuugh... Hello..." said the distraught Florana, slightly embarrassed.
"What are you making?" said Haitham, visibly interested in the sight "Berried Delight." answered Margaret, in her trademark monotone voice; Haitham's eyes instantly went wide, his breathing stopped before turning ragged, the boy was almost glowing.
Snapping out of it and regaining his composure he spotted something interesting "Wait a minute... Is that French on your biscuit box? I thought you were German... Tu parles Français?"
"Belgian. Yes it is. French is my first language." Margaret picked up the box and offered some to the two students who happily obliged.
Mouth half-full, Florana exclaimed "Really?! But you have such a pretty Brittish accent..."

Haitham and Florana looked at each other, visibly enjoying the biscuits "What are those? They're delicious!"
"They're... Spéculoos, my mother made them." answered Margaret, who was now splitting the remaining biscuits in two packages and handing them to the delighted students "Here."
Slightly embarrassed, Florana and Haitham enthusiastically thanked the Gryffindor for her generous gift.

"Anyway, we're here for Florana's cooking and French lesson, would you like to join us?" said Haitham, with a wide grin, trying to hide his enthusiasm for mysterious actually-not-German-cooking. "Oh please!" added a visibly happy Florana.
Margaret nodded in silence.
The duo looked at each other with a slightly worried and sad look.

Florana spoke up "I want to learn French to surprise Ioni this summer!" "Naturally, I stepped up, and offered to teach her how to cook at the same time" added Haitham.
The enthusiastic students waited for a moment, as if frozen in time, getting increasingly uneasy at Margaret's lack of response, both in body and voice until she spoke up. "...Yes?"
The duo sighed and chuckled, Haitham answered "What do you think?"
"Tiramisu?" replied Margaret.
"What's that?" asked Florana, before turning to Haitham and taking a step back in surprise: the boy had a very wide smile on his face.

The recipe was fairly simple, Margaret listed the ingredients, pulling them out of her magic bag in front of the amazed students, she explained the recipe step by step, all the while, Haitham translated in French and Florana took notes.
"Wait...I'm confused... Why did Margaret say..." Florana struggled a little before giving up "Ninety... And why do you say... Four twenty ten..?"
Haitham loud laughter boomed through the kitchen, he quickly tried to stifle it at the sight of Margaret's pain and cleared his throat. "She's Belgian." he added with a smile.
"Nonante comes from the Roman invasion of Belgica, they counted in tens, Quatre-vingt-dix is a remain of the Gauls who counted in twenties." answered Margaret. The two students were flabbergasted, it was the longest their heard her speak.
Deciding not to react to their shock, she handed them the ingredients. "I will make a similar recipe."

The two "groups" worked diligently on their own, there would be three desserts in four hours: Haitham was salivating the most, looking forward to the tasting.
Florana worked clumsily but hard, putting all her love in the dessert, focusing on the words and trying to assimilate the knowledge as best as she could.
Haitham was excited, Margaret's recipe wasn't the one he was used to and the ingredients she provided them with were of the highest quality, he couldn't wait to taste the results of their hard work.
Margaret worked silently, using completely different ingredients; she remembered overhearing something from the French student and planned a delicious surprise.

Finally done with the preparation, the trio waited for their desserts to cool in the refrigerator.
Margaret walked all the way to the other end of the room and exercised in silence while Florana and Haitham chatted happily, taking a break from all the French. They talked about art, Quidditch, exchanged drawings, whispered about the third member of their group with a worried look...

Keeping themselves busy, the students suddenly found themselves three hours later and excitedly retrieved the desserts. Florana and Haitham gasped at the sight: Margaret's Tiramisu was...Yellow? "Lemon." said a quiet voice behind them, making them jump.
"How did you know?!" exclaimed Florana "I remembered." answered Margaret before waving her wand and placing the three plates on the countertop.

Haitham's Tiramisu was the picture of a Tiramisu, everything was where it should be and it looked delicious, covered in beautiful layer of brown powder. Florana's looked more amateurish, lacked symmetry and beauty but it was nonetheless a success, especially for a first time.
Margaret's Tiramisu was a sight to behold, almost pure white with specks of yellow and a beautifully shaped top with a thin yellow layer covering the cream.
Grabbing a knife, Margaret looked at her shaking hand and put it back down before whipping out her wand; she cut the desserts perfectly with a few, quick Diffindos before bowing a silent "Bon appétit."

Florana's Tiramisu had a mellow but strong taste, it was a little bit too wet, had a little bit too much amaretto but an impressive first time, she was very proud.
Haitham's Tiramisu had a strong powerful kick of flavour with subtle details that tickled the palate, a perfect taste that reflected the perfect appearance of his dish.
Margaret's Lemon Tiramisu was... Mesmerizing, it was a soft taste, bittersweet, full of subtlety, with strong hints of lemon and limoncello, as if each bite was a story with highs and lows, a delight they couldn't get enough of, a delight that stirred the heart.

"Delicious!" declared Florana, a spoonful of Tiramisu still in her mouth. Haitham nodded in approval, still savouring the Lemon Tiramisu "You have to tell me your recipe, Margaret!" said Haitham, impressed.
"...Sure." answered Margaret, pulling out a piece of parchment, her unaesthetic and unfitting handwriting quickly filling the blank sheet.

"So, who wins? What's the verdict, Florana?" Haitham was rubbing his hands in excitement.
Blushing slightly, she mumbled "I don't know, yours are both great..."
"You did great for a first time, be more confident, it's the only thing you lacked." interjected Margaret, she waved her wand, rearranging the dessert pieces and handed Florana a strange quill. "Here, write something sweet."
Looking at the new dessert, the brunette's eyes went wide: It looked like a chessboard of brown and yellow, like a bee, like Hufflepuff.
She turned back to face her mentors "I don't know what to write!"
"A pun about bees or honey? Something sweet?" answered Margaret. Florana thought for a second "You are as sweet as honey, my beautiful flower."
Haitham quickly translated "Tu es belle comme un fleur, douce comme le miel." Margaret nodded in approval.

The enchanted quill allowed her to write her cute message in a delicious chocolate sauce. Her work done, Florana added a cute drawing of a bee and a flower, she turned around to see her emotionless mentor looking at the result, and her enthusiastic mentor smiling wide and giving her two thumbs up.
"What about mine..?" said Florana, looking at her sad plate.
Almost in unisson, the two mentors spoke up "Taste it."
"It's good!" she thought.
"One is our gift to both of you, all three of us worked on it." said Margaret.
"The other is your gift to Ioni, she will taste your love." said Haitham.
Almost tearing up, Florana jumped at the two of them and embraced them tightly, thanking them profusely with uneasy, heavily accented "Merci".

Florana left the room happily with the two boxes, still thanking her friends and smiling widely, careful not to trip on her way out.
Haitham looked at Margaret packing her things, a gentle but sad look in his eyes, he felt something was wrong but he thought she had had enough excitement for one day. "Merci, Margaret." he said calmly, before leaving the kitchens, a warm smile on his face.