            Lucius didn’t look up from the stove as Hermione shuffled into the kitchen with a murmured good morning. She hovered in the sitting area, taking a moment to appreciate the way his platinum hair cascaded down his back, a few wisps curling with the heat of the stove. His broad form blocked the view of the pan, though when one arm reached out to nudge something with a spatula, she caught the scent of something sweet.