House. Slytherin
Category. Theme.
Prompt. [Speech] "Quick, hide behind the chair!"
Word Count. 2440
A/N. Monstrous AU. Like, very. And extremely fluffy.
oO0Oo
A peaceful Sunday morning was dawning in the Slughorn household; however, one individual was already up and about, intent on causing mischief. Aaron Slughorn was busily rummaging through the kitchen, pawing through the cabinets, the pantry, the muggle refrigerator his mother had insisted on having. Finally he found the ingredients he needed, and then he took a much-crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket.
"Hm," he said aloud. "It says I need 100 grams of flour." Pulling the scale closer to him, he roughly measured the required amount, then dumped it in a big orange mixing bowl. "Then in the other bowl, I need 300 milliliters of milk and two large eggs…" He cracked the eggs into the bowl, stirred them, then looked at the milk. "However, I think a different liquid will do much better. After all, who needs milk?" Aaron looked at his precious store of potion. Many a late night had been spent brewing in secret after his parents had gone to bed, and now his efforts were on the verge of bearing fruit. Grabbing the vial, he prepared to dump the light-brown potion into the pancake batter — then he stilled.
"Wait, I've got to cook this. What if that messes with the potion?" Frowning now, he put the potion down. "Yeah, that wouldn't be a good idea… but I don't have much, and I need to make sure that Dad eats some of it… hm."
Still puzzling over what exactly to do, Aaron began pouring the milk into the bowl. He finished his pancake batter easily enough, and then he turned on the stove and began preparing the cast-iron skillet. He had made three pancakes before it finally occurred to him just how to slip his Father the potion: he would put it in the maple syrup.
A wicked grin splitting his face, Aaron pulled the maple syrup from the fridge and poured his entire potion in there. "There we go, that will do the trick!" he cried, throwing his arms out in victory.
"Aaron?" His mother's quiet voice made him freeze. "What are you doing up this early?"
"Oh, uh, I wanted to make something special for Dad," Aaron said, hastily stepping between his mother and the maple syrup. He'd hate for all his hard work to go to waste. As he screwed back on the cap, he said, "I'm making pancakes for him. See?" The cap screwed on and the maple syrup seemingly identical to before, he stepped aside and showed his mother the stack of pancakes cooling on a plate, the pancake cooking on the stove, and the orange bowl of pancake batter sitting on the counter.
His mother blinked. "Well, that was very considerate of you, Aaron." She moved closer, assessing his work. "I'm surprised. You didn't even use magic?"
He grinned. "I can't when I'm on hols mum, you know that! Plus, it's not like I know any household spells." He pretended to draw a wand and cast, "Pancake-creation-ius!" Of course, nothing happened, and so he stowed the imaginary wand. "I may not be able to magic right now, mum, but I'd do anything for my old man."
"That's very good of you," she said, taking a seat at the kitchen table and watching him work. "You're setting such a good example for your younger sister."
Aaron deftly flipped the still-cooking pancake, then turned back to his mother. "I'm sure Elise will be fine. I mean, she's a witch!"
His mother laughed. "It's not that easy, Aaron. Remember, I'm a muggle."
"Yeah, but just think of all the pranks she'll be able to pull with magic! I've read all those muggle prank books Uncle Kevin and Uncle Luke keep sending me and they're useless."
"Look, Uncle Kevin and Uncle Luke don't know about magic, remember? They're my brothers." His mother shook her head. "Speaking of pranks, I'm surprised you haven't pulled any yet. You don't have very long 'til Easter break ends, and you haven't turned Elise's hair purple yet."
"Because that's so lame," Aaron replied. "Come on, mum. That's what first-years would do. But now that I'm a third-year, I've got bigger fish to fry."
His mother raised an eyebrow. "Is there an ulterior motive to your sudden desire to cook breakfast for you father, then?" she asked.
"Definitely not," Aaron said without missing a beat. "If you want, you can even have a pancake yourself." He thanked whatever gods existed that he hadn't put the potion into the pancake batter and that his mother did not like syrup. Then, noting that the pancake currently on the stove was beginning to look rather over-browned, he flipped it off, grimacing a little at its color. Ah well. He'd just drown it in syrup, and then no one would be the wiser. "Feel free to eat this slightly burnt one," he said, gesturing to the most recent pancake.
She chuckled. "Well, if you're so willing to offer me one, I'm going to guess that there's nothing in them." Getting to her feet, she reached up to the higher cabinets that Aaron hadn't quite been able to reach and took out a big tray. "Here, you're going to want this."
"What is that?"
"It's a bed tray," his mother said, putting it down on the counter. "You probably haven't seen it since we don't eat breakfast in bed anymore, but before you were born your father and I used to do this all the time. It's where you put the food."
Aaron nodded, his mind already jumping to what else he was going to do. "Awesome, mom. Could you watch this pancake for me? I've gotta start pouring orange juice and getting some flowers. Can I cut the tulips?"
"You can cut one tulip. I still haven't forgiven you for butchering my peonies when you told me you were only going to get one for that witch in your year."
"Mum! I thought we had agreed not to talk about that!" Aaron protested, his ears starting to heat up.
"All's fair in love and war," his mother replied, peering at and stirring the pancake batter that remained in the orange bowl with a speculative look on her face. "Now, hurry up Aaron! I haven't got all morning. I've still got to wake up Elise and get her ready for whatever Quidditch event your father got invitations to this time. I'll never understand why that sport is so popular, but who knows."
"It's Quidditch," Aaron called after him, his intonation making it perfectly clear that that was all the explanation required. After picking two tulips (because having just one flower just looked so lonely), he walked back into the kitchen and began pouring a tall glass of juice for his father. Then he caught sight of the pancake batter. "Mum! Did you add more?"
"Of course." His mother didn't seem the least bit repentant. "But Elise and I have to eat too, Aaron, so of course I doubled the recipe."
Aaron rolled his eyes, once again thanking his lucky stars that he hadn't put the potion into the pancakes proper. "Well, I'm going to take Dad his pancakes as soon as I finish setting up his tray, so could you get Elise now? I want you and Elise to be there too when I give him his breakfast."
"Sure." His mother handed him the spatula, then left the kitchen. Aaron could hear her climbing the stairs, and in that short window, he acted. Elise didn't like syrup either, but she did like Snareberry jam (which was made from the fruit of the Devil's Snare; Elise said it "had a bite to it", but Aaron thought it was disgusting, although there was no accounting for taste). He grabbed the potion vial, ready to dump whatever remained of its contents into the jam, but when he tried to, he realized that there was nothing left. Bugger. Ah well, he'd have to content himself with the biggest fish.
As soon as he finished filling the tallest, most elegant glass he could find with juice and placing the two tulips into a small glass vase, he began piling pancakes onto the finest china plate his parents had. A frosted glass bottle would make a good place for his maple syrup and potion mixture, so Aaron did that as well. When he finished preparing the breakfast tray, he took a step back to admire his work. It looked fancy.
That's when his sister walked in. "Aaron!" she cried. "Is that for me?"
"Nope, sorry Elise. It's for dad."
"Please?"
"Nope, and not another word! You got his Father's Day card?"
"Yup!" Smiling widely, she ran to the bookshelf and took out a square of paper. It had four smiling figures on it, one of whose hair was a healthy rainbow color.
"Is that supposed to be me?" Aaron said with a laugh. He took the card from her, squinting a the stick figures suspiciously.
"Yup!" She grinned. "Back when you almost blew up your room with your magic!"
Aaron frowned at his sister. "Hey, I'll have you know that I did that when I was very, very young and clueless… in fact, I did it when I was your age."
"Hey! Aaron, that's mean!" she protested.
"So's coloring my hair rainbow," he shot back. "Now come on Elise, let's give Dad his breakfast in bed." Together, the two siblings carried the tray to the master bedroom, where their father lay sleeping, enjoying a late and lazy Sunday morning…
"Daddy!" Elise shouted. "Can we come in!"
His peaceful sleep suddenly ruptured by the shriek of his excited eight year daughter, Horace Slughorn yawned before saying, "Yes, you may."
"Daddy!" Elise shot forward to tackle her father, and Aaron grunted as he suddenly had to save the breakfast tray from an ignominious tumble onto the floor. That would certainly derail his well-laid plans.
"Hello Elise," his father groaned, trying his best to reciprocate Elise's energy. "What brought this lovely Sunday morning surprise?"
"Well… it's Father's Day," Aaron said, placing the breakfast tray onto the bed. "So I made you this!"
His father looked at him skeptically. "You made this? How do i know it's not poisoned?"
"Very funny dear." His mother had come into the room as well, and she took Elise from her husband. "I watched him cook all of this, and since he offered to give me a pancake, I'm assuming they're perfectly safe."
"If you say so." His father looked at the pancakes once more, then shrugged.
Aaron watched eagerly as his father picked up the beautiful bottle of maple syrup… and then put it back down. "Dad, aren't you going to put maple syrup on your pancakes?"
"I wish I could, but I'm on a diet now and I'm supposed to avoid refined sugars…" Then his father's eyes narrowed. "Anyway, why would it matter to you?"
Think fast, Aaron. "Well, I mean, I put a lot of work into those pancakes so that you'd have an awesome breakfast and I'd really hate it if you didn't enjoy them as much as you should because you didn't put syrup on them. I know you much you love syrup."
His father seemed to weight his answer, then he shrugged. "For you, my boy, I'll eat it with syrup."
"I'm sure that was quite a sacrifice," his mother said dryly.
"It certainly is." His father drowned his pancakes in syrup, then raised one forkful to his lips, looking for all the world as though eating pancakes with copious amounts of syrup was a religious experience. Then he took a bite. After a few seconds, his eyes widened and he spat out the pancake, but not after he had swallowed some. "Aaron!" he bellowed — or really, he would have bellowed, had he been able to produce any sound other than high-pitched squeak. "What did you put in these pancakes?!"
Aaron was laughing too hard to answer. His father may have been built like a walrus, but right now, he sounded like a fairy. "Dad, is that you? You sound funny," he said through his laughter, darting to the door just in case his father decided to come after him. "In fact, you sound just like those mermaids in the lake…"
"Oh, I'm going to get you boy!" his father squeaked.
"Not unless you catch me first!" Aaron raced from the room, dashing up the stairs to hide in his sister's room. He hid there, under the bed, waiting to hear his father's heavy footfalls as he climbed the stairs… but it was silent. Was it a Silencing charm? Aaron stayed curled up underneath the bed, but after what felt like fifteen minutes, he couldn't take it any longer. He warily stuck his head out.
The room was empty. From what he could see of the hallway (through the crack in the door), it was empty too. He carefully got out from underneath the bed. There was no one in the hall… his stomach then chose that moment to rumble, reminding Aaron that he hadn't had anything to eat at all this morning. But there was a stack of untouched pancakes sitting in the kitchen…. His mind made up, Aaron snuck down the stairs towards the kitchen. However, just as he was about to slip a pancake into his pockets, his sister raced in.
"Aaron!" she shouted. "Dad's coming! Run! Run!"
Startled, Aaron almost dropped the pancake before following his sister out into the living room. "Where should I hide?" he hissed, looking around wildly. "Where does he look!"
"I can hear him, he's coming— Quick, hide behind the chair!" Elise shouted, motioning for Aaron to crawl behind a rather ugly, massively overstuffed pinstriped armchair.
"Where did we get this?" he whispered to his sister. "It's really ugly…"
"Call me ugly, will you?" To Aaron's horror, the chair was speaking— and in his father's fairy voice. "Well, take this boy!" Suddenly, the armchair was gone, and in its place stood Aaron's father, who grabbed him around the waist and carried him triumphantly back to his bedroom.
"No! Put me down! Someone, save me!" Aaron shouted, vainly beating his fists against his father's back.
"This'll teach you," his father squeaked. "Eat this." A plate of pancakes drowned in maple syrup was pushed before him.
"No— do I have to— please no—" Aaron struggled in his father's grip, but it was to no avail. The pancakes were shoved in his mouth, and his next words were in a high-pitched, squeaky fairy voice identical to his father's. "What have I done?!"