A/N: Warning: Extreme OOCness and exaggeration ahead!

This story was actually made up a long, long time ago, but I never really thought of it as publishable until a sudden fanfiction parody spree a few days ago. So, with the memory of much randomer stories in mind, I shall publish this.

Oh yes: I must give my cousin a huge amount of credit, for at least half the nonsense in this story, if not more, is from her.

The battle raged in the Department of Mysteries. Spells flew at Aurors, Death Eaters and Hogwarts students alike. Harry was sweating from exertion as he tried to handle three Death Eaters at the same time. "SIRIUS!" he called over his shoulder, blocking a curse sent at his ear, "A little help here?"

Sirius, however, was far too busy to deal with Death Eaters. He had seated himself comfortably in the midst of the battle and was feasting upon a towering plate of pancakes. He picked up his fork and knife and cut himself a piece.

"Now, Harry," he lectured genially while chewing, "You mustn't interrupt people" –swallow – "while they're eating pancakes." Another bite, more chewing. "It's very bad manners, you know" – swallow again – "especially if they are elder to you." Cut, pierce, pop into mouth. "I don't know why" – chewing – "you haven't learnt this yet. As you're godfather" – another piece – "I suppose I should have educated you, but-"

Sirius was suddenly cut off by a green flash of light speeding straight to him. He sat in shock for a while, mouth open, until...
"NO!"

The spell had missed Sirius, but it had instead hit something much more precious.

The battle froze as everyone turned to stare at the charred mass on a plate that had once been Sirius's pancakes.

Sirius fell forward blindly, his eyes filled with tears. "No," he repeated, this time in a whisper, "My pancakes." He began to sob, and the heart-rending sound brought the Death Eaters, Aurors and students back to reality again. Except that they didn't continue fighting. Who would think of battle at a moment so full of sorrow? The crowd surged towards Sirius Black. Bellatrix Lestrange pushed through the crowd towards her cousin, forgetting her hatred in his pain. She held out her arms in he fell into them, weeping in the memory of his beloved pancakes.

The throng of enemies, now bound together by tragedy, filed out of the chamber and somehow made their way to the entrance of the Ministry again. Cornelius Fudge burst into the building, alerted by the sounds of wailing and crying. At first, he couldn't understand what he was seeing. Then his eyes fell upon the plate clutched to notorious murderer Sirius Black's heart.

"No," his voice was hushed by shock, "Is that...?"

Harry Potter nodded at him solemnly, eyes round with hurt. "Yes," he moaned, "The pancakes."

Cornelius Fudge wasted no time. He immediately alerted the country of the news. School was cancelled and work was called off as the whole wizarding community of Britain mourned for the pancakes that had once been. The day was unanimously declared National Pancake Day.

The next order of business was to have a funeral.

"I'll help," volunteered Ginny, "After all, I mixed in the butter." Her voice caught, and she looked away.

"Me too," Dolohov stepped forward, "I turned on the griddle."

"I...poured the maple syrup," Tonks looked pained. There was an 'oooh' of sympathy from the crowd.

The grave, coffin and tombstone were arranged and prepared. Hoards of on-lookers left flowers and soon the grave wasn't even visible behind piles of fragrant blossoms. The only thing that was left was a eulogy. So many people had wanted to speak a few words of praise for the pancakes that a random draw had to be taken using a hat and some slips of paper. Finally, the wizard who had spoken at Dumbledore's funeral as well was chosen.

"But wait!" someone called out, "Dumbledore isn't even dead yet!"

Nobody paid him any attention.

The wizard was late for the funeral and as nobody knew who he actually was, there was no way to contact him. When he finally did arrive, he was beaming and wiping his hands on his robes. "So sorry I'm late," he said, "I was eating a pancake. What did I miss?"

He was promptly thrown out. Harry did another random draw from the hat. Sybill Trelawney was called to the front of the audience. She cleared her throat and began in a deep and mystic voice: "I always foretold great doom and misfortune upon all those who-"

She never got to finish. Umbridge was the next plucked from the hat. She strode up to the coffin. "Well, it would have helped if the pancakes were pink-"

She was booed down by the annoyed pancake fans. Peeves floated up to take her place. He looked unusually somber. "Dear friends," his voice was clear and caught everyone's attention instantly, "Today we mourn the loss of one belonging to Sirius Black but beloved to us all: Sirius's pancakes. They were an irreplaceable part of Sirius's diet and we all helped to bring them to their full glory. Never again shall we see the fluffy golden pile, bathed in maple syrup and topped by that pat of butter that made it unique. But remember, nothing can truly pass away. Everything always lives forever in our hearts." He floated away, sniffing, to a spurt of applause from his audience and a wail from Sirius. Peeves's words, he decided, were true. The pancakes may have been incinerated, but their delicious flavor would linger on his taste buds...forevermore.