Pancakes

Ron woke up sometime in the afternoon on a cool March day. By this time, the sun was hung high in the blue he could see out of his window. After feigning sleep for several minutes, he began to wonder why Hermione hadn't woken him up yet. "'Mione?" he mumbled, rolling over. His reaching arm fell on a Hermione-less pillow.

He sat up in surprise, blinking as he looked around blearily. Only now did he sense a faint aroma coming from the kitchen, and his sensitive nose, forever attuned to the smell of food, could sense butter and sugar wafting from what could only be the kitchen. There was also an occasional clatter of pots and pans. He concluded that Hermione had to be downstairs. But what in the name of Merlin was she doing?

Not wanting to fully wake up just yet with his customary trip to the bathroom, he patted down his hair, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and ambled to the kitchen. There he saw Hermione wearing a checkered apron, her hair tied up in a bun. In front of her was a large pan filled with some cream-coloured liquid, a frying pan with the same liquid sizzling inside, and several broken eggshells on the table.

"What's this?" he asked blankly.

Hermione turned to him and smiled. "It's Pancake Day, Ron," she said. "Watch this." With growing fascination, Ron stood several feet away as he watched her flip the dough in the frying pan, which had mysteriously gone solid in the time it had taken for them to speak to each other. The other side was caramel brown, and Ron could smell the familiar whiff of the pancakes his own mother used to make him.

"I didn't know that was how you made them the Muggle way," he said.

"Oh, it's easy," Hermione replied nonchalantly, transferring her first pancake onto a plate. "Just take some flour, sugar, milk, butter, eggs, salt and a touch of cinnamon. I've already mixed it up for you. Go on, try it."

Ron made to get a fork and knife from the drawer, but Hermione blocked his path. "No," she said simply, handing him the spatula she used to flip the pancake. "I meant it's your turn to make a pancake the Muggle way."

Ron wandered over to the sizzling pan and poured some of the pancake mixture into it. He jumped as it sizzled loudly with a sinister hiss. "That's just the oil," Hermione explained, coming up from behind him so she could guide his hands. "After about a minute or two, just wedge this underneath and flip it over."

Ron watched the contents of the pan for any sign of change. Indeed, after a minute, it had turned a lovely golden brown, and he followed Hermione's instructions. It would have gone perfectly well if he hadn't managed to cut the pancake in half by wedging it a little too hard, but Hermione reassured him that it would taste just the same. Ron put the pancake on the plate after the second half had been cooked, and they took turns making pancakes until there was a pile of fifteen thick sweet-smelling pancakes, high enough to last for a long time.

Hermione quickly took two each for herself and Ron, storing the rest in the refrigerator in the corner. "Let's eat," she said, carrying small bowls of sugar and lemon juice and setting them on the table. Ron made to follow her, but she stopped him once again. "Go upstairs," she ordered, smiling, "and clean yourself up first. Your hair looks like it was dragged out of a hedge backwards!"

Author's Note:

Thanks to Raindrops on windows for suggesting the cooking idea, though the subject was so broad I decided to shorten it to just making pancakes, since I'm not old enough to be a good cook just yet :) Also thanks to Oriondruid for providing all the wonderful research about Pancake Day!

Merry Christmas, by the way. I'm sorry this wasn't very Christmassy, but if you're looking for something seasonal try reading Out Of The Shadows :)