It was 7.00am in the Weasley/Granger Household. It had been 24 hours since Ron and Hermione had officially moved into their newly bought flat together in Diagon Alley. Their entire day had been filled with hovering boxes, animated furniture and flying paintbrushes and pots. By the time evening came Ron and Hermione were extremely exhausted. Hermione had retreated to the comfortable confinements of her and Ronald's bedroom long before Ron.
The room had been painted a soft periwinkle blue and decorated with delicate ornaments and trinkets. Ron disliked the bedroom colour as it reminded him of the dress that Hermione had worn to the 'Yule Ball' back in their Fourth year at Hogwarts. This was an event that he had wished to forget, for that it was in his Fourth Year that he truly realised his feelings for her. He wanted to make those feelings clear, but he was unable to as she was dating Victor Krum, or as Ron liked to call him the 'Bulgarian Twazzock'.
In the corner of the room stood a large, Rosewood wardrobe with brass handles that matched beautifully with the rich, deep colour of the wood. The centre of the room consisted of a vast, wrought iron bed. The covers and pillows on the bed were an alluring Sapphire. Hermione had purchased these covers for two reasons. The first reason being was that Sapphire was her traditional birthstone and the Second reason was that the gorgeous blue, reminded her of Ron's eyes.
Beneath the covers, Hermione now lay fast asleep. Her gentle snores filled the spacious room as sunlight peeked through the drawn curtains, streaking the room with strips of dazzling gold.
Ron was in the kitchen. He had snuck out of bed early, wanting to prepare a surprise breakfast for Hermione that morning. So far everything had gone to plan. Hermione was still asleep and she hadn't noticed him creeping out of bed. The only problem now was that Ron didn't know how to cook. Ok, maybe that wasn't "only" a problem, it was possibly more like an utter predicament. Sure, he could have used his wand to whip something up, but he wanted to create breakfast the muggle way, as he was sure that Hermione would appreciate it, but it was also because he was rather dense on how to prepare food via magic.
Living at the burrow, Ron never really had to make his own meals; his mother took care of that for him. Mrs Weasley was always cooking sumptuous feasts of roast dinners, pies and Ron's favourite, treacle tarts.
He never bothered to learn how to cook, he always thought that there were other more pressing matters to focus on, and he didn't deem 'learning how to poach an egg' as one of them. He did now.
Looking around himself in the kitchen he was absolutely clueless as what to do. The new pieces of muggle kitchen equipment, (which Hermione had insisted on buying, much to his chagrin) sat on the gleaming marble worktop, taunting him silently.
Ron had the urge to retrieve his wand and cast a spell. But what spell?
He was equally naïve in magical catering as he was in muggle. No, he would just have try his best and make an effort. After all it was for Hermione.
Ron walked to microwave and began inspecting it with a mild curiosity. "What the bloody hell is this thing?" He muttered to himself quietly. He remembered that Hermione had told him the names and properties of all the appliances that they had purchased, but he didn't bother to listen as he was drawn to a poster advertising the new Firebolt 2010: The ultimate broomstick.
He opened and closed the door repeatedly and began pressing the buttons. Accidentally pressing the 'Start' button, the microwave's loud hum startled Ron. "Shit, shit, shit!" Ron whispered panicking, trying desperately to turn the machine off before it woke up his girlfriend in the next room. Failing to, Ron resorted to pulling the plug from its socket to turn the machine off. Ok, so he wouldn't be using that, but there was still a bunch of other items that could be used to prepare breakfast.
Looking in the fridge, Ron pulled out a carton of eggs, a loaf of bread and a pint of milk. He decided to make scrambled eggs on toast 'simple but fancy enough to be eaten with a fork and knife' he thought to himself with a smug smile. I mean all he had to do was whisk an egg, add it to a hot pan and stir until cooked, easy enough right? Wrong.
Whilst Ron was cracking the eggs into the glass bowl, he purposely added several shards of broken egg shell as he believed that they would give the eggs texture, and he knew that Hermione liked texture in her food. To this egg and egg shell mix, Ron threw in a handful of whole, black peppercorns, a table spoon of salt and two tablespoons of mixed herbs for "flavour".
Smiling at his "culinary genius", Ron lit the cooker (this is one of the objects he really knew how to use) and placed a frying pan on top. Leaving the pan to heat up until it was searing hot, Ron poured the disgusting egg mixture into the pan. The pan hissed loudly and bubbled as the eggs touch the burning surface; Ron stirred the eggs until they were cooked, and by cooked I mean burnt.
Ron looked at his creation with a disdainful expression on his face, scrambled eggs weren't meant to look like that.
Popping two slices of bread into the toaster, he returned to the frying pan.
"The eggs don't look that bad" he reasoned with himself "The colours are nice, sort of. Black and yellow goes together, like a bee" but this wasn't a bee, it was a catastrophic disaster.
Meanwhile, while Ron was pondering over his eggs, he didn't notice that the toaster had begun to smoke. Thick black smoke curled up towards the ceiling reaching the smoke alarm, which emitted a loud high pitched beep. Cursing at the smoke detector, Ron aimed his wand to turn it off before it woke Hermione in the bedroom, but he was too late.
He was surprised by a sleepy voice which came from the bedroom doorway "Ron, what are you doing?" it said.
"Go back to bed 'Mione, I got it all under control!" Said Ron, attempting to hide the obvious chaos going on in the kitchen.
Hermione surveyed the scene around her; there were egg shells all over the kitchen worktop and strangely the floor, on the cooker a frying pan which consisted of what looked like scrambled vomit, a shattered pint of milk on the floor and a toaster that was emitting a thick black smoke.
"Ron" She said, simply "Look at the state of the kitchen. It's a mess and you tell me you have everything under control?" she folded her arms and frowned at him. She walked over to the cooker and peered into the pan "Oh Ron, you've burnt the pan!" She complained "It's going take me ages to clean now! Even by using magic! What were you trying to do anyway?" she asked, turning around and giving him a harsh glare.
Ron started to blush and looked down at the floor "Iwantedtomakeyoubreakfastinbed" he garbled out "buteverythingwentkindawrongandImreallysorryIburntyourpanI-" Before Ron could finish; Hermione had cut him off with a fervent kiss. When she finally pulled away she gave him a soft smile. "Oh Ron" She whispered, affectionately stroking his cheek "You are a complete and utter idiot sometimes"
"Hey!" Said Ron, taken aback by the comment.
"What? You are" She said, grinning "You know you can't cook, but it was very sweet that you tried" She looked over at the pan "You weren't honestly going too feed me that were you? I mean look at it, it's burnt"
"It's not burnt. It's well done" Ron pointed out "and anyway, it's not like you're cooking skills are any better"
"They're better than yours, and at any rate who are you to insult my cooking skills Mr I-can't-even-make-toast-without-setting-the-smoke-alarm-off" Hermione said smirking. She ran her fingers through his hair and looked into his eyes. She tiptoed on her feet to whisper in his ear "Come on, let's go back to bed. I know something that you can do" and with that Hermione dragged Ron by the collar of top into the bedroom and shut the door behind them. Boy did Ron love breakfast in bed.
Fin
