Of Christmas Pies
What happens when the four students most likely to cause disaster that Hogwarts has ever produced team up, and try and bake a pie? The disaster that is sure to occur can only be something to laugh at. Follow Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs in their most exciting adventure yet.
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It was Christmas morning, and the four roommates were sitting around amidst scraps of wrapping paper and buried presents. Well, three of them were anyway. James Potter, Peter Pettegrew, and Remus Lupin could hear the voice of their friend Sirius Black, talking in the kitchen. Though they were wizards, two of them were Muggle born, so they often did things the Muggle way. "Besides," James had once said, "Muggle things can be loads more fun."
So, the three boys were sitting on the couch, waiting for Sirius to get through talking with his mother on the telephone. Straining their ears, they could manage to hear some of his words. Finally,
"Yes, Mum. Of course, Mum. I love you too, Mum. Y– yes Mum. Yes. Goodbye, Mum. Yes. Goodbye. We will. Yes. Goodbye, Mum. Goodbye. Goodbye." The sound of the phone hanging up could be heard, and Sirius's was walking back towards his friends. The tall nineteen-year-old collapsed into an armchair. He sat up again almost immediately, and pulled Remus's new sneakoscope out from under him. The device was momentarily flying across the room, and when it slammed against the peeling wall and dropped with a thump to the floor, Remus stood and made to pick it up.
"Ugh," said Sirius, obviously disgusted, "That woman can talk." Peter rolled his eyes.
"You can say that again." Being the only one, save Sirius, who could use the telephone, he had to deal with her a fair few times himself.
Suddenly, Sirius's face grew into a falsely innocent, syrupy smile. Everyone else groaned.
"What on earth is it now, Sirius?" asked Remus.
"Well," he started, "You know how I'm going to Mum's this evening for Christmas dinner?" His friends eyed him warily, but did not say a word. Peter merely raised his eyebrows. "Well, she invited you three over too." Each one let out a sigh of relief.
"That's not bad, then. None of us are going home anyway," James said.
"Yeah," remarked Peter, "We were just going to have Chinese take-away and maybe bug Lily and Elizabeth to come over." Lily and Elizabeth were James and Peter's girlfriends. Remus never bothered with one, being a werewolf and all, and Sirius had a different one every week.
"Anyway," Sirius continued, "I wasn't finished. I also promised her–"
"No," Remus butted in, "No. Do not say it. Whatever you told her we'd do, it'll end up in disaster. So if you don't say, it, we can just get the takeout and have a good time."
"I promised her we'd bring the pie." He had obviously ignored whatever Remus had said.
"Easy," said James. He pulled out his wand, and opened his mouth, ready to say something. But before he could, Sirius grabbed it out of his hand.
"The Muggle way. You know how this magic stuff still scares her."
Everyone stared at Sirius. Sirius stared back. Finally,
"You mean," said Peter slowly, "That you want – us! – to bake a pie?" Sirius nodded his head. "That's impossible! James and Remus barely know what an oven is, and I highly doubt that you and I could ever bake something that complicated! Hell, we're lucky if we can cook soup without blowing something up. How are we supposed to make a bloody pie?"
"Well," started Sirius, "we'll never know unless we try."
"I hate it when he says that," said James under his breath. Sirius obviously didn't hear him.
"So. Are you in? Or are you out? Men or– er– something weaker than men?"
"Mice, Sirius."
"Whatever." After misquoting, Sirius grinned at his friends. One by one, they rolled their eyes and told Sirius they would help him.
"Great!" he grinned. "Now. The first thing we'll need is a good recipe." He looked around at his friends. "Peter, could you get the recipe? I'm going to explain to these morons what an oven is." The two Muggle-borns grinned at each other, and Peter stood up.
"Alright Padfoot," he sighed, "See you all in a bit, then." And he grabbed his coat, his wand, and walked out the front door of the apartment. His footsteps could be heard going down the hall, and down the steps.
"Now then," said Sirius, in an uncanny imitation of Minerva McGonagall, one of their Hogwarts professors, "Today we will be learning about ovens. Follow me, class, and if I see ANY fooling around, twenty hundred million points from Gryffindor." He marched into the small kitchen of their apartment, his head in the air, closely followed by Remus and James, who were sniggering under their breaths, their wry grins noticeable from a mile away. When the laughter had finally died down, and Sirius had returned to being Sirius, the trio ambled over to a large, rusty gadget in the corner of the kitchen: one that obviously hadn't been used in quite some time. The boys walked close to it, Sirius in the lead and, as James and Remus looked closely, Sirius blew the dust off of the top, and patted the sheet of metal.
"This," he said, looking fondly at the contraption, "is our oven." Remus suddenly went wide-eyed.
"Really?" he gasped, amazed. "This is our oven? Ha!" He clapped himself on the head with the palm of his hand. "And to think… all this time I've been thinking it was a bit of scrap metal…" Sirius let out a snort of laughter.
"'Course not, Remus! This is an oven! And today, we're learning how to work it." For a moment, each eyed the machine – two pairs of eyes filled with suspicion, and one filled with something indescribable – fondness? Love? Lust?
Finally, Sirius spoke.
"And now, good sirs, we shall learn the complicated ways of the oven. First lesson. This," said he, pointing to a small, black knob towards the front, "is called the 'On Button'. Say it with me now," and this time, the three chorused, "On Button."
"Very good!" cried Sirius, obviously delighted. "Now, we'll need a volunteer, would someone like to try and turn the oven on?" Sirius looked at his two students. Neither one moved. After a moment of silence, James let out a cough, which, for some reason, Sirius took as a move to volunteer. He grabbed James' hand, and pulled him with such force, the arm nearly came out of its socket, all the while calling, "Yes! We have a volunteer! Yes!" As they reached the oven, Sirius proceeded to further question James.
"Now," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, "This is our first day of class, so I'm still not quite clear on names. Be a dear, and tell me. What are you called?" He smiled a waiting smile at his friend, who was obviously taken by surprise.
"Er – James?" He voiced, wary of Sirius and his sanity.
"Very good then erJames. Now. Please turn on the oven." With a switch of his hand, James turned the switch, and the oven had obviously gone on.
"Excelent! Very well done! Three hundred twenty-seven and a half points to Gryffindor!" James walked back to Remus, and they rolled their eyes. Sirius, however, spotted them. "Now, don't have me be taking those points away!"
The so-called 'lesson' went on in this fashion for quite some time, though, nearing the more – advanced – material, Remus was nursing several burnt fingers, and James was having difficulty putting out the fire that had started atop his shirt. Sirius was simply standing there, sporadically exclaiming inspirational things such as 'Excelent!' or 'Very good!' or 'No! No! Remus, you can't put out a grease fire with water! No!' Perhaps he forgot about the part occasionally.
When the group was covering the difference between the stove-top back-burner and front-burner buttons, ("No, James, that's the front-bur – AHHH! PUT OUT THE FIRE!"), Peter showed up at the door, holding in his hand a small piece of parchment. Perhaps it was paper. But nevertheless, he held it up, and began walking toward them, careful to avoid some embers still glowing on James's shirt.
"Sirius," he said, once in hearing range, "I've got a recipe." Sirius grinned his famous grin, and turned to Peter.
"Excelent! What kind?"
"Cherry."
"Mmmm…" Sirius licked his lips. He had always been rather fond of cherry pie. Then again, he had always been fond of anything edible in general, save strained turnips. Sirius grabbed hold of the card, and gave it a quick glance. After reading it more thoroughly, he looked up into the eyes of his companions, and began the project.
"Right then. First thing we'll need are ingredients. Remus, don't tell me you don't know what ingredients are…"
"Don't worry. I do."
"Good, because I don't know how to explain it. Anyhow, I suppose we can split into two groups. As much as I hate doing this, James, you and Remus go on together. You've got to find – are you writing this down, you two? – sugar, almond extract, and cornstarch. Got that?" The two nodded in unison. "Right then. Peter and I'll take the rest. Well, by my troth, I am off! Come on Peter!" And the two boys sped off, looking rather silly – Sirius, at least a foot taller than Peter, was still clad in his Gryffindor-red undergarments. He was liable to forget small details like pants sometimes.
James and Remus stood in the living room, shaking their heads at the two who had most recently left the room.
"Raving mad, the both of them," Remus mused. After a moment of chuckling to themselves, the duo acknowledged one another. Turning to his friend, James said:
"Well, we'd best be off. Sirius'll have a fit if we don't have all of the ingredients by the time he gets back. I mean, spending all of that valuable time teaching us to use an oven." They grinned at each other, Remus picked up his scribbled list, and they followed their friends' suit, both properly dressed.
Author's Note ----- Well, there's part one. Please be kind and leave a review. Flames welcome – Sirius's oven is a bit short on gas. The next part is coming soon, whether you anticipate it with hope or dread.
Disclaimer ----- All of the characters, save the briefly mentioned Elizabeth, belong to J.K. Rowling and her publishers.