Chapter 24
"Ok, I can do this," Greyson said as he looked at the cookbook. "Baking should be easy enough. Right Quibby?"
"Are you sure you don't want us to help you, sir?" Kirk asked, looking at Greyson.
"No, I'm sure," Greyson said pushing up the sleeves of his shirt. "I have to do this on my own and without magic." He flipped through until he found the recipe he was looking for. Battenberg Cake. Apparently it was McGonagall's favorite and that was bound to get him back in her good graces for lying to her.
"A wizard not doing magic?" Quibby said in awe.
"No, if I'm going to do this right, I have to do it without," Greyson repeated and started gathering ingredients. "Okay, butter, eggs, caster sugar, flour, almonds, almond extract, milk, jam and marzipan. Got everything."
He looked at the recipe. "First prepare your Battenberg cake pan and preheat your oven to 180C." He looked at Quibby. "Do we have a Battenberg cake pan?"
"No sir," he replied, shaking his head. Greyson frowned and looked back at the recipe.
"Oh, look, you can make your own," he smiled. He could do this. He got out the aluminum foil and proceeded to attempt at making four little rectangle pans. "Easy enough."
He made the batter. One white and one pink. The white went to two of the molds and the pink in the other two. "Now I bake it," he smiled and set it in the oven.
He nodded to himself and started rolling out the marzipan. After a while he started to smell burning. He frowned and looked around, not seeing anything out of the ordinary.
"Sir, your cake," Kirby said, tugging at Greyson's shirt. "It's burning." Greyson dropped the rolling pin and tugged open the oven. He grabbed the pan, only to drop it. He winced, frowning at the burning sensation on his hands. His hands had bright red marks and he didn't know what to do.
"Alright," he nodded. "I just need to see Madame Pomfrey... it's all good." He took deep breath, trying to keep himself calm after the incident.
"Come on sir," Quibby said, leading Greyson out of the kitchen. "Let's get you taken care of." Greyson nodded as his hands slowly swelled up. He was never baking again.
"Where were you?" Draco asked once Greyson made it back to their room.
"With Madame Pomfrey," Greyson said, glad his hands looked like they were never burned.
"Why?" Draco asked. "Were you volunteering?"
"...no," Greyson said after a moment. "I was in the kitchens... and burned my hands."
Draco blinked, not quite sure he was hearing Greyson properly. Not that Greyson could blame him. He normally wasn't so careless. "I was trying to make Professor McGonagall a battenberg cake since it's her favorite." It just ended up going horribly.
Draco shook his head. "You cannot stand being in a bad light with the teachers, can you?"
"She was so upset," Greyson defended. But he knew Draco was right. He hated being in a bad light with McGonagall.
"Well... Did it work?" Draco asked.
"I didn't make it," he said glumly. "It burned and then I dropped the pan." He started stripping down to his boxers, just ready to put that horrible kitchen incident behind him.