A Delicious Irony

A/N:  This is a Challenge which was written exclusively for Aindel and I.  If you read my story, please read hers as well.  Consider it a contest of sorts.  The guidelines for this story are as follows:

1. This fic is a one-shot.  No more, and obviously no less.

2. It must be written within a two-week time period.

3. It must be a humourous MWPP fic centred on one Remus Lupin.

4. It involves the Annual Hogwarts Bake-Off.

The story must include:

1. Tawa-tawas (fried dough strips covered in honey or sugar.  From Bolivia)

2. A green beaver-pelt hat.

3. The phrase "I know how to take care of my own monkey, thank you very much.

4. 24 golden fingernails (real or fake).

5. A foreign Spanish-speaking exchange student named Gunther.

6. The phrase "Dónde esta mi mano?" ("Where is my monkey?")

And that is all.  There isn't… any more.

Therefore, onto the story.

Wait, wait, hold on.  You should probably know that I don't own anything but the rights to Severus's underpants.  I don't care how old and gray it is; it isn't as though Snape will ever need them should he fall into my hands, anyway.

Warning: Possible pre-slash, cruelty to animals.

$$

            Remus Lupin yawned widely, stretching his jaw until it made a loud pop.  Across the Muggle Studies classroom, Lily Evans scowled at him.  Beside him, Sirius Black grinned and cracked his knuckles.  In front of them, Peter Pettigrew twisted his neck in response, making his neck and back crackle, and James Potter shuddered at the sounds.

            It was surprising that any of them were awake (well, except for Evans; she would never fall asleep in class); old Professor Binns, who was supplying for their usual Prof. Fletcher, turning what was usually a mildly interesting class into a deadly fight for consciousness.  Remus lowered his head into his arms, and was just drifting off when someone at the back of the room cleared their throat firmly.  Remus and several other who had maintained semi-vigilance turned around in their seats.  Prof. Dumbledore stood in the doorway.  Binns droned on about Muggle utensilery, seemingly oblivious to the presence of his employer.  Sirius started and passed around a note.

            'Wonder if Dumbledore will finally sack the old bugger for being too boring? ~SB'

            'No, never any such luck. ~JP'

            'Hey, but then when would we get any sleep? ~PP'

            The note made its way around to Remus, and he quickly added his two Knuts' worth: 'Good point.  I think he's finally mumbled himself into a trance! ~RL,' and passed it back to Sirius.  He read the response as it was written ('Binns would likely prophecy something from the past, knowing him!') and Dumbledore coughed loudly.most of the sleepers awoke, and even Binns finally noticed the Headmaster.

            "Ah, yes," Binns said nasally, "yes, our dear Headmaster has a terribly interesting announcement for you."  Binns managed to make "interesting" sound about as exciting as a dead flobberworm—which, really, 'Snivellus' Snape would like. 

            Dumbledore strode to the front of the room and, with a wave of his wand, sent a tiny shockwave through the air.  The rest of those opportunistic nappers jumped awake.  Snape in particular was so surprised that he fell out of his seat in the small Slytherin corner of the room.  After the ripples of laughter had died down, Dumbledore announced the commencement of the first Annual Hogwarts Bake-off.

            "And who better to compete in the first Bakeoff then our very own Muggle Studies class?" finished Dumbledore cheerfully.

            "Well, perhaps someone who actually knows how to cook the Muggle way?" a snarky voice retorted from the back of the class.  It was Lucius Malfoy who rumour had it had been added to the class as a punishment for some offence against some of the Muggleborns in the school, although he was a full year above the rest of class.  Dumbledore looked taken aback for a moment.

            "Unfortunately, this class is the only one that implements Muggle Cooking at all in our curriculum.  Surely you have already gained some basic knowledge of Muggle ovens and such?"  He looked anxious for a moment before several students nodded grudgingly.  "Excellent!  That's all you really need, then—"  there was a noise that sounded a lot like a forehead being slapped from Evans' side of the room "—Students will be working two to a room, and each student will make something different to avoid those who may feel the need to copy their partner's work."  The old man clapped his hands, and conjured up a bowl filled with slips of parchment.  Two slips shot up and slowly the students were paired up as Dumbledore called the names.

            "James Potter and Peter Pettigrew!"  The two friends grinned and exchanged high fives.

            "Lily Evans and Lucius Malfoy!"  Malfoy smirked and James turned around to glare at him threateningly, as if daring him to lay a finger on the lovely Evans.

            "Gunther Gordellez and Frengtwerp Almirtey!"  The two foreign exchange student glanced at each other confusedly, since neither really spoke English, except for the common emergency phrases that they had memorized.  Gunther patted the head of his omnipresent monkey.

            "Andromeda Black and Sirius Black!"  Sirius gave Remus an apologetic glance, but directed a friendly smile at his cousin, who smiled reservedly back.  Remus shrunk down in his seat, all hopes of having fun dashed.  As if to prove him right, Dumbledore immediately called out:

            "Severus Snape and Remus Lupin!"  The note made another hurried pass around the Marauders, and came to rest on Remus' desk.

            'You suck. ~SB'

            'Shut up, Sirius.  Tough luck, pal. ~JP'

            'I've got to go with Sirius on this one, Rem.  Sorry. ~PP'

            Remus, however, didn't read the note.  He was too busy banging his head against his desk to care.

SS

            "This contest is obviously rigged."

            Remus turned back from his half of the room, where his instructions had just appeared on the workbench.  He looked warily at the little greasy git who shared his workspace.  Remus figured that if Snape had to work in the same room as him, they could simply ignore each other, but it seemed that the other boy was two angry to see this.

            "Let's see your card," Snape stalked over and grabbed Remus' instructions out of his hand.

            "Hey, you git!  Give that—"

            "Just as I thought," Snape's voice held a peculiar mixed of triumph and sourness, "Look at the difference, Gryffindor, Dumbledore's playing favourites again."

            Remus took a look at the two cards.  His said "Tawa-tawas" at the top, and then a recipe followed, with detail instructions on preparation and frying.  On Severus Snape's card, in very fine print, it read:  A Halloween Feast.  That was all.  Remus frowned and flipped the card over.  The back was blank.  Snape snatched the card away again and began amassing ingredients on his workbench by calling them out aloud.  Remus returned to his own area, and dutifully named off the items on his list. 

            "Flour… water… salt…" Remus tried to ignore the silence in the other half of the room.  He had no clue how Snape would ever complete his assigned task.  It was impossible to do within two hours.  Somewhere, in the back of his red-and-gold tinged brain, Remus realized that perhaps Dumbledore really did favour some students.

            From the other side of the room, Remus heard a cauldron beginning to bubble.  Ever-curious, he turned to watch Snape attempt a Halloween feast as he stirred his dry ingredients.  Luckily, he used to help his mum with her baking (before he became lycanthropic; now he didn't do much of anything with his family), so he knew the basics of cooking, even if he'd never heard of tawa-tawas.  He shuddered slightly at the thought of the Purebloods like Lucius Malfoy attempting to cook, and even more at the thought of Sirius being allowed to play with spatulas.  Poor Andromeda; guaranteed that her bottom would be sore by the end of the day, even if she was Sirius' cousin.

            Snape's table was piled with a very, very odd assortment of ingredients, some of which for certain weren't edible.  Snape was just finishing off his list. 

            "Boomslang skin…two  golden statues of Shiva…a mirror…Chingarita."  And the last, Gunther Gordellez's pet monkey appeared.  Startled, it sprang onto Snape's head and grabbed slimy handfuls of his hair.  Using the hair like reins, the monkey steered the Slytherin boy in a drunken-looking circle, while they both screeched at the top of their voices.  Remus dropped his dry ingredients and clapped his hands to his over-sensitive ears. 

            "WOULD YOU LIKE SOME HELP?"  Remus bellowed in Snape's general direction.

            "I KNOW HOW TO TAKE CARE OF MY OWN MONKEY, THANKS VERY MUCH!"  Snape screamed back, and Remus fired off an Impedimentia Jinx anyway.  The harassed monkey stiffened and toppled to the floor.  Massaging his scalp and pulling oout detached hairs, Snape nudged the animal into the corner none to gently with his foot.

            "Does, uh…" Remus paused for a moment at Remus' baleful stare, then went on.  "Does Gunther know that you're borrowing Chingarita?"

            "Of course not," Snape answered haughtily, and both boys turned away, sneering at each other, Snape to sort and prepare his ingredients, and Remus to call for some new flour and salt. 

            "Thanks, anyway," Snape mumbled a moment later, almost inaudible.  Remus smiled and replied quietly, "It's no big deal."

            The boys worked quietly for a while, until Remus got to the part of the recipe wherein he was required to knead the dough.  It stuck to his hands, the counter… everywhere. 

            "Argh!"  he finally cried, irritated beyond control, attempting to throw the dough down.  It slowly oozed onto the counter, instead.  A pale, thin hand snagged a handful of flour.  "Hey! Get your own flour, Snape!" Remus growled, and Snape responded softly,

            "You have you cover the counter in flour, so it doesn't stick.  The dough's too wet; anyway, it needs more flour.  Go ahead, try it now."

            Remus ploughed his hands into the floury mess and found that it was, indeed, more manageable.  Moments later, he had the dough rolled out and was sawing it into large rectangles.

            Unfortunately, he had forgotten to cut slits in the middle of the shapes, so they blew up to preposterous, bloated balloon-shapes, but all minor occurrences aside, Remus was finished his food with and hour and fifteen minutes to spare.  He wiped off his counter magically, and hopped up on it to watch Snape work.  Currently, the Slytherin was engaged in the serious desecration of Muggle artifacts.  He pried the golden fingernails off of the statues, and dropped them, one at a time, into the cauldron.  Next into the bubbling cauldron followed a sock that looked truly old and nasty, a jar of newt eyes, and a pure black cat.  The cat went down without a sound, and Remus jumped up and glared wordlessly at Snape; at the unbelievable cruelty of it.  Snape rolled his eyes.

            "Oh, honestly, Lupin, I drugged the cat so much that I doubt it even knew that it died."  This did nothing to alleviate Lupin's anger, and he vowed to not protest next time Sirius wanted to embarrass Snivellus in front of the school. 

            Snape picked up a plain little dagger in one hand and, with a flourish, grabbed the paralyzed Chingarita from against the wall.

            "Snape, NO!"  Remus shouted at the same time as the door opened and Gunther walked in.  Remus paled.  This wouldn't be pretty.  Snape quickly dropped the monkey back behind the counter.

            Gunther stopped cleaning his thick glasses on his robes and slipped them back on his face, blinking.

            "Dónde esta mi mano?" he asked with a worried smile.  At the look of blank incomprehension on the faces of the two occupants of the room, he tried again in broken English.  "Where is… me monkey? Me Chingarita?"  Guiltily, the two boys shrugged, and the foreign Hufflepuff gave them an apologetic smile, and slipped out again.  The tension broken, Remus turned again to Snape. 

            "What are you doing?  You can't go about murdering pets!  I bet there are at least twenty rules about that!" he demanded harshly.  Snape laughed, and held the monkey out to Remus.

            "You want to hold her, then?  Oh, don't be squeamish, it's just some simian brat from Brazil." 

            Remus reached out and grabbed the monkey away from the Slytherin, and Snape chuckled, sharpened the dagger cruelly, and… cut four hairs from Chingarita's head.

            "That's—that's all?" asked Remus stupidly, and Snape nodded and laid his hand against Remus' cheek. 

            "You on the other hand…" Snape said softly, and trailed off.  Remus felt a blush rise to his cheeks in his confusion, and Snape swiftly yanked out several of the werewolf's hairs.

            "OW!" he yelped, "You complete prat!"

            Snape shrugged, and added the hairs into the potion. 

            Remus and Snape talked a little as they waited for the potion to simmer, and Remus even helped strain out the mess.  They each ate a tawa-tawa as they waited for their incarceration to end (they agreed that they were a bit too doughy in the middle), and ended their time in a fairly friendly silence.  The bell rang, and a house-elf appeared to take away the boys' entries.

            They walked to the door together.  As Remus exited, he caught sight of James' unruly hair through the crowd, and he took off towards his friends at a flying run, never looking back.  If he had, he would have seen a tall, dark boy standing alone beside the door.

$$

            Dumbledore turned out to be the final judge of the contest (he wore a sparkling purple robe and a large, moldy-looking green beaver-pelt hat for the occasion), and he had narrowed the competition down to three final competitors.  Remus had been wiped out in the second round, and Sirius and James' entries had been deemed "inedible and truly abominable" by Professor McGonagall before the first round.  The last three competitors were surprisingly Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape, and Lily Evans.

            Dumbledore took a dainty bite of Peter's veal parmesan, and nodded, setting it aside.  After a gulp of Butterbeer, he took a bite of Evans' cheesecake, and beamed.  Lastly (after another hearty swig), Dumbledore took a sip of Snape's unnamable potion. 

            "Mm, that's good," he said, sounding very surprised, and very well pleased.  Snape allowed something like a small smirk of triumph to cross his face.  Dumbledore stood.

            "The winner is….Ssssss—Lily Evans!" he announced, to the roars of the Gryffindors.  Snape's mouth dropped open. 

            "You—you old loony fraud!"  he screamed at the Headmaster, "My potion was perfect! It let you experience every sweet you can imagine!  I should have won!"

            The Headmaster looked vaguely uncomfortable for a moment, then poked his index finger into his mouth.  Drawing something out, he told Snape, "My dear boy, I'd like to discuss this cat hair I just found in my mouth…"

$$

A/N:  And that's it! I busted my ass right up till the timeline to get this in, and now it's done! It's done!  It's… it's*Topples over from exhaustion*

MONTY PYTHON'S FLYING CIRCUS!!!

Please Review.