Disclaimer: I wish I was the genius responsible for creating these
characters, but unfortunately that honor goes to J.K.Rowling.
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my mom because once she got one of those funny e-mails called "The Best Rum Cake Ever." This recipe bears a marked resemblance to what Sirius does in this chapter. Hee hee hee...
The Best Rum Cake Ever!
Remus stood speechless in the kitchen doorway, watching Sirius bang pots around and grab apparently random items off shelves. He swallowed hard. This was a frightening development, but nothing he couldn't handle. He entered the kitchen.
"Um, Sirius...Perhaps you ought to wash up a little before you start cooking." Remus started mentally lining up other excuses to delay the inevitable. Sirius looked confused. "You know, wash your hands and all...say, maybe you could even take a long, long, long shower. Doesn't that sound like a good idea?"
Sirius looked down at his muddy hands ruefully. "I guess you're right," he said at last. "A good cook always washes his hands. And I would like a shower." Remus's heart leaped. Maybe he would have time to hide all the cooking ingredients before Sirius came back.
"The bathroom's that way," said Remus, pointing. If Sirius thought Remus seemed suspiciously eager to get him out of the kitchen, he didn't say anything. As he went down the hallway, Remus could hear him humming the theme song from his favorite cooking show.
As soon as Sirius had vanished into the bathroom, Remus sat down at the dining room table and banged his head on it a few times. It was all going to start again...the Vicious Cycle of Cooking. Sirius would fix something for a party, and at the party he would meet someone to trade recipes with, thus gaining new recipes for his enormous collection. And of course, Remus would have to taste everything the first time Sirius made it to tell him if it was any good.
"Right," Remus said briskly, suddenly getting up and breaking out of his self-pitying reverie. "Now where can I hide all this stuff?" He looked at all the junk on his counter. Most of it, he decided, would probably fit in the tiny shed in his backyard. Remus filled his arms with measuring cups, cartons of eggs, and sticks of butter and headed outside.
After the fifth trip, when he finally got rid of the last of the wooden spoons, Remus discovered the shed would barely close. "That's finished, then," he said cheerfully to a sparrow sitting on the back fence, rubbing his hands gleefully as he went back to the kitchen to inspect the newly emptied counter.
Remus stopped short in horror. Of all the things he could have forgotten...
The economy-size bags of sugar and flour remained smack dab in the middle of the kitchen floor.
Panicking as he heard the water in the bathroom stop running, Remus hoisted the bags with some difficulty and staggered out the back door. He looked around wildly. Maybe the shed had just enough room...he hurried over to it, panting.
Remus started to open the door, but it was bulging alarmingly. Curses. In desperation, Remus simply dropped the sugar and flour next to the shed and hoped Sirius wouldn't look outside.
He got back inside just in time to meet Sirius coming back down the hall, his black hair hanging over his face. Sirius shook it back, spraying the kitchen with water, and grinned at Remus like a little boy.
"I guess it's time to start the cooking," he said excitedly.
"It is, indeed," replied Remus, hoping his smile didn't look too wolfish. He was looking forward to watching Sirius's exuberance turn to desperation as he searched the now-bare kitchen for the ingredients he would never find.
"I got this great recipe from Dumbledore a few days ago," Sirius went on, oblivious to the fact that Remus seemed almost manically happy. He unfolded a worn piece of parchment and laid it on the table. Sirius bounded into the kitchen, then stopped in his tracks. Turning to Remus, brow furrowed, he asked, "Where's all the stuff I took out?"
Remus shrugged and tried to look concerned while inwardly rejoicing. "Stuff? Oh, that's right, you did get some stuff out, didn't you? Sorry, haven't seen it." He made a show of looking around the kitchen carefully, then met Sirius's eyes innocently.
Unfortunately, Sirius's gaze drifted over his shoulder out into the backyard. [Don't look at the shed,] Remus prayed. [Don't look at the...]
"You seem to have some flour in your backyard," Sirius observed cautiously, looking at him rather strangely.
Remus thought fast. "Oh, really?" He snapped his fingers in disappointment. "Darn, I must've forgotten to bring it in when the...flourman...dropped it off on Tuesday. That's the third time this month!"
Sirius's eyebrows shot up. "The flourman, Remus? That's rather unusual. But very convenient for me, since you don't seem to have any in here." Before Remus could think up some way to stop him, he went out the back door and crossed to the shed.
Knowing he had only seconds to stop his friend, Remus instinctively reached for the parchment Sirius had left on the table. Without looking at it, he methodically shredded it into little bits and pushed them off the edge of the table, where they blended in flawlessly with the beige linoleum.
Sirius straightened up with the bags. As he did so, the edge of the shed roof caught the back of his head. With a yelp of pain, he furiously kicked the shed. Remus thought of the bulging contents within and covered his face with his hands.
When he looked up again, Sirius was watching in astonishment as a river of cooking ingredients cascaded by him. Remus moaned in despair as Sirius looked up at him, bewildered. "What the heck was that?" he shouted at Remus, who shrugged and tried to look as that was where he had always kept his kitchen implements.
Stepping carefully over the various measuring cups, spoons, and bowls, Sirius made his way back to the house, rubbing the back of his head gingerly. "Remus," he began firmly, "do you know anything about-" His gaze fastened on the empty table.
"Remus, where is my recipe?" Remus felt a sudden urge to laugh maniacally. [It's gone, hah-HAH! You'll never see your precious recipe again, Padfoot! *Hallelujah, Hallelujah...*] Outwardly, though, he put on his best puzzled, hurt face.
"Sirius, do you honestly believe I would stoop so low as to steal your recipe? I mean, that would be the basest of acts...would an old friend do that to you?"
"Riiiiigghht," Sirius said, making sure the table was between him and Remus. Then his face brightened with a sudden thought. "Good thing I had two copies of it!"
"WHAT!?!?" As soon as the roar of rage escaped him, Remus realized he'd just blown any hope of pretending he had nothing to do with any of this. Sirius favored him with an extremely suspicious look, but continued. As he talked, he produced another scrap of parchment from his pocket, keeping it carefully out of Remus's reach.
"Since I lose things from my pockets all the time, I figured I'd write it out twice," Sirius explained happily, waving the parchment while Remus ground his teeth in fury. "And now..." he cleared his throat, unfolded the parchment, and held it up reverently before him. "Master Padfoot, chef extraordinaire, is proud to present...'Olivia Dumbledore's Rum Cake.' "
Remus paled. If it was what it sounded like, it would need...But he didn't want to think about that. He walked over behind Sirius to read the recipe over his shoulder. Unfortunately, all the ingredients required seemed to be in his yard where Sirius could get at them. Except the...
"Come on," Sirius said abruptly, dragging Remus out the door with him. "You're going to help me with this."
"I am? I mean, I am!" Remus amended hastily, seeing the determination in Sirius's face. Sirius stopped just outside the door and began to read off the parchment.
"Okay Remus, I need eggs, flour, butter, sugar, salt..." The list went on and Remus grudgingly fetched the required items until Sirius had a fair- sized pile at his feet. Sirius picked up all of it in one armful and carried it back inside, Remus grumbling at his heels. "I cannot believe I'm actually helping you *cook.*"
Inside, Sirius turned his back for a second to turn on the oven. Remus seized his opportunity. He picked up the only carton of unbroken eggs and dropped it on the floor. Sirius turned, incensed, and Remus was suddenly looking in a totally different direction.
Smoldering with rage, Sirius stomped over to the table. "That's it," he seethed. "You. Will. Stay. Away. From. That. Table. Or I will have to hurt you badly." Remus cowered. Sirius picked up the carton of mush and inspected the damage grimly. Then he grinned suddenly and punched the air in triumph.
"What?" asked Remus, with a sinking feeling that he knew what was coming. Sirius jubilantly showed him the open carton, where four unbroken eggs lay mocking him with their perfect little white shells. "Grrr..." Sirius looked at him quizzically and he quickly said, "Grreat! Oh, Sirius, I'm so happy you found those eggs. For a minute I thought we weren't going to be able to have any rum cake." [The happiest minute of my life...]
Sirius turned his attention once more to the recipe and said, "I think we have everything now. Except the rum." Remus broke out in a cold sweat as Sirius's eyes swiveled toward the refrigerator. He knew what he must do to save civilization as we know it.
Remus darted in front of the refrigerator door, glaring at Sirius. "Oh no you don't," he spat in an enraged voice he scarcely recognized as his own. "Not *my* rum, Sirius. Wild horses couldn't drag my rum out of this refrigerator."
"Oh, come on, Remus," Sirius coaxed. "It's for *cake.* And besides, I bet you never drink it anyway." He tried unsuccessfully to pry Remus away from the refrigerator.
"How do you know that?" demanded Remus indignantly. [I sure could use some right about now,] he thought, wishing he'd left Sirius outside where he'd found him. Or better yet, poured boiling oil on him instead of water.
Sirius forced Remus's hand away from the refrigerator door handle. He was getting close to opening it. Desperately, Remus sank his teeth into Sirius's arm. Sirius hung on grimly, fighting to open the door. At last, he shook Remus off and the door flew open.
Sirius pawed through the contents of the refrigerator and emerged victorious, clutching the bottle of rum. "Now," he announced, "we can finally make our cake."
"Who's we?" Remus inquired sullenly, rubbing new bruises as he got up off the floor. "I am *not* going to help you make that..." He tried to think of something suitably insulting. "That...*cake!*" [Brilliant, Remus.]
"Maybe you're right," Sirius said. "You have been acting kind of...strange...today. Why don't you just watch?" He started measuring the flour.
Remus thought longingly of his wand, lying in his bedroom, and had a sudden inspiration. "You know, Sirius, I'm really tired." He faked a huge yawn. "I think I'll go lie down for a while."
He sprinted down the hallway to his room and stopped only when he reached his bed, where he'd left his wand. It wasn't there. Remus stared in shock at the empty space on the quilt. An icy terror filled him at the thought of facing Olivia Dumbledore's Rum Cake without his wand to help him.
Crawling under the bed, he searched the floor thoroughly, but found no sign of the wand. Desperately, Remus ransacked his room, understanding for the first time that cliché about the needle in the haystack. Suddenly, a thought hit him.
Oh. No. His bedroom was on the way to the bathroom. A horrible suspicion growing in the back of his mind, Remus raced back to the kitchen.
"Sirius," he demanded angrily, "where is my wand?" Sirius finished breaking the eggs before he answered.
"I don't know, Remus," he replied sarcastically. "Maybe you forgot to bring it in when the wandman dropped it off on Monday."
"I know you took it, Sirius," Remus continued, "and if you give it back now, I won't hurt you-badly. Hand over the wand and no one will get hurt," he said, beginning to circle the table toward Sirius.
Sirius held up his wand then, taunting him. "Come and get it, Remus," he teased. Remus didn't dare, of course. Normally he would have been a match for Sirius, but with a wooden spoon the man was invincible.
Instead, Remus watched helplessly as Sirius continued adding ingredients to the mix. When he was almost done, he picked up the rum bottle.
"Cooking lesson number one," he said knowledgeably, opening it and licking his fingers noisily. "Always taste liquor first to make sure it's good quality." Sirius took a long drink from the bottle and smacked his lips. "Mmm, strong stuff. And *very* good quality. I think. Better have some more to make sure." After about ten more swallows, Sirius pronounced the rum "shatishfactory" and proceeded.
Remus was starting to be scared now, but everything went well until Sirius had added the last of the butter to the batter. Then he reached for the rum again. On the second try he grabbed it and pulled it toward him. "Caking leshon number three," he proclaimed, holding up four fingers. "Never ashume the rum ish shtill good. Alwaysh try it again to make sure." Sirius took another long swig. Remus hadn't known he could hold his breath that long.
When he came up for air, Sirius seemed very happy with the quality of the rum and said so in considerably slurred tones. "It'sh time to add it, then," he said happily. Remus was trying to decide whether Sirius was drunk enough for him to try and get his wand back. He decided against it, as Sirius was still sufficiently sober to wield his spoon menacingly. Meanwhile, Sirius poured a liberal dose of rum into the mixing bowl and an even more liberal amount on the tablecloth.
Picking up the recipe, he held it very close to his face and scanned the parchment, looking puzzled. "Hey, Remush, can you read thish for me? It sheemsh to be upshide down." Remus took the parchment and turned it right side up with a sigh.
"It says now you pour the whole thing down the drain and go to bed for a few hours," Remus told Sirius, hoping he sounded convincing.
"Lemme shee that," said Sirius suspiciously. Reluctantly, Remus handed over the recipe. [Oh well, it was worth a try.]
"Plashe in golden brown oven for twenty minutesh," Sirius read, glaring at Remus over the top of the parchment. "All righty then." Clumsily, he spooned the batter into a cake pan. Picking it up, he opened the door and shoved it in...
Remus felt he had to say something. "Sirius? Perhaps you hadn't noticed, but that's not the oven. That's the freezer."
Sirius took a closer look. "Oh. Sho it ish." He located the oven and pushed the pan in, slamming the door behind it. "Now all we have to do ish wait twenty minutesh." Setting the timer carefully for forty-seven minutes, he sat down in the dining room. Remus slumped into a chair too, wondering how he could escape before it was too late.
"Tell you what, Sirius. You must be pretty tired from all that baking. Why don't you just go have a nice long nap on the couch? Don't worry, I'll take care of the cake." [Oh boy, will I! First I'll chop it into little tiny pieces, and then I'll feed it to the garbage disposal, and then I'll CELEBRATE! And I will never drink again as long as I live.]
But Sirius wasn't listening to him. His thoughts, such as they were, were obviously somewhere far away. Suddenly, his eyes widened, as if with an idea. "You know who would enjoy thish cake, Remush?"
[The International Masochists Society?] "Who, Sirius?"
"Harry!" Sirius cried triumphantly. Remus froze in horror.
"NO, Sirius, I really don't think that's a good idea, I'm pretty sure Harry doesn't like rum cake," Remus babbled, trying to save Harry from this horrible fate. But it was too late. Sirius had made up his mind.
He got up from the table and weaved into the living room, Remus in hot pursuit. Too late, Remus remembered that his broomstick was out in plain view.
By the time he caught up with him, Sirius was already out the front door and mounting the broomstick-backward. He quickly rectified this error, though, and Remus barely had time to grab hold of the handle.
This was a big mistake. As Remus would have recalled if he'd been thinking straight, the average wizard is not strong enough to hold down a rising broomstick. Instead, Remus found himself dangling in midair as Sirius gleefully performed loop-the-loops and figure eights before taking off for Number 4 Privet Drive.
It was going to be an interesting evening.
A/N: That was long. But it makes up for the first chapter, plus I had so many ideas I couldn't leave them out of the story. I realize Sirius didn't even start getting drunk till about two-thirds of the way through, but I figured if I was going to make Remus a real psycho, I'd do a proper job of it. Poor Remus probably doesn't deserve it, but Sirius gets so much of the rap I figured I'd even it out a little. I also decided not to involve any magic because it's funnier that way. This chapter made me a little mad because I wrote almost the whole thing perfectly and then my computer erased about half of it, but I think I reconstructed it pretty well. I probably invented the International Masochists Society (I hope I did!) but I subconsciously got the inspiration from the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy-thank you, Arthur Dent! Coming Soon: Chapter Three, The Dog Who Came to Dinner.
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my mom because once she got one of those funny e-mails called "The Best Rum Cake Ever." This recipe bears a marked resemblance to what Sirius does in this chapter. Hee hee hee...
The Best Rum Cake Ever!
Remus stood speechless in the kitchen doorway, watching Sirius bang pots around and grab apparently random items off shelves. He swallowed hard. This was a frightening development, but nothing he couldn't handle. He entered the kitchen.
"Um, Sirius...Perhaps you ought to wash up a little before you start cooking." Remus started mentally lining up other excuses to delay the inevitable. Sirius looked confused. "You know, wash your hands and all...say, maybe you could even take a long, long, long shower. Doesn't that sound like a good idea?"
Sirius looked down at his muddy hands ruefully. "I guess you're right," he said at last. "A good cook always washes his hands. And I would like a shower." Remus's heart leaped. Maybe he would have time to hide all the cooking ingredients before Sirius came back.
"The bathroom's that way," said Remus, pointing. If Sirius thought Remus seemed suspiciously eager to get him out of the kitchen, he didn't say anything. As he went down the hallway, Remus could hear him humming the theme song from his favorite cooking show.
As soon as Sirius had vanished into the bathroom, Remus sat down at the dining room table and banged his head on it a few times. It was all going to start again...the Vicious Cycle of Cooking. Sirius would fix something for a party, and at the party he would meet someone to trade recipes with, thus gaining new recipes for his enormous collection. And of course, Remus would have to taste everything the first time Sirius made it to tell him if it was any good.
"Right," Remus said briskly, suddenly getting up and breaking out of his self-pitying reverie. "Now where can I hide all this stuff?" He looked at all the junk on his counter. Most of it, he decided, would probably fit in the tiny shed in his backyard. Remus filled his arms with measuring cups, cartons of eggs, and sticks of butter and headed outside.
After the fifth trip, when he finally got rid of the last of the wooden spoons, Remus discovered the shed would barely close. "That's finished, then," he said cheerfully to a sparrow sitting on the back fence, rubbing his hands gleefully as he went back to the kitchen to inspect the newly emptied counter.
Remus stopped short in horror. Of all the things he could have forgotten...
The economy-size bags of sugar and flour remained smack dab in the middle of the kitchen floor.
Panicking as he heard the water in the bathroom stop running, Remus hoisted the bags with some difficulty and staggered out the back door. He looked around wildly. Maybe the shed had just enough room...he hurried over to it, panting.
Remus started to open the door, but it was bulging alarmingly. Curses. In desperation, Remus simply dropped the sugar and flour next to the shed and hoped Sirius wouldn't look outside.
He got back inside just in time to meet Sirius coming back down the hall, his black hair hanging over his face. Sirius shook it back, spraying the kitchen with water, and grinned at Remus like a little boy.
"I guess it's time to start the cooking," he said excitedly.
"It is, indeed," replied Remus, hoping his smile didn't look too wolfish. He was looking forward to watching Sirius's exuberance turn to desperation as he searched the now-bare kitchen for the ingredients he would never find.
"I got this great recipe from Dumbledore a few days ago," Sirius went on, oblivious to the fact that Remus seemed almost manically happy. He unfolded a worn piece of parchment and laid it on the table. Sirius bounded into the kitchen, then stopped in his tracks. Turning to Remus, brow furrowed, he asked, "Where's all the stuff I took out?"
Remus shrugged and tried to look concerned while inwardly rejoicing. "Stuff? Oh, that's right, you did get some stuff out, didn't you? Sorry, haven't seen it." He made a show of looking around the kitchen carefully, then met Sirius's eyes innocently.
Unfortunately, Sirius's gaze drifted over his shoulder out into the backyard. [Don't look at the shed,] Remus prayed. [Don't look at the...]
"You seem to have some flour in your backyard," Sirius observed cautiously, looking at him rather strangely.
Remus thought fast. "Oh, really?" He snapped his fingers in disappointment. "Darn, I must've forgotten to bring it in when the...flourman...dropped it off on Tuesday. That's the third time this month!"
Sirius's eyebrows shot up. "The flourman, Remus? That's rather unusual. But very convenient for me, since you don't seem to have any in here." Before Remus could think up some way to stop him, he went out the back door and crossed to the shed.
Knowing he had only seconds to stop his friend, Remus instinctively reached for the parchment Sirius had left on the table. Without looking at it, he methodically shredded it into little bits and pushed them off the edge of the table, where they blended in flawlessly with the beige linoleum.
Sirius straightened up with the bags. As he did so, the edge of the shed roof caught the back of his head. With a yelp of pain, he furiously kicked the shed. Remus thought of the bulging contents within and covered his face with his hands.
When he looked up again, Sirius was watching in astonishment as a river of cooking ingredients cascaded by him. Remus moaned in despair as Sirius looked up at him, bewildered. "What the heck was that?" he shouted at Remus, who shrugged and tried to look as that was where he had always kept his kitchen implements.
Stepping carefully over the various measuring cups, spoons, and bowls, Sirius made his way back to the house, rubbing the back of his head gingerly. "Remus," he began firmly, "do you know anything about-" His gaze fastened on the empty table.
"Remus, where is my recipe?" Remus felt a sudden urge to laugh maniacally. [It's gone, hah-HAH! You'll never see your precious recipe again, Padfoot! *Hallelujah, Hallelujah...*] Outwardly, though, he put on his best puzzled, hurt face.
"Sirius, do you honestly believe I would stoop so low as to steal your recipe? I mean, that would be the basest of acts...would an old friend do that to you?"
"Riiiiigghht," Sirius said, making sure the table was between him and Remus. Then his face brightened with a sudden thought. "Good thing I had two copies of it!"
"WHAT!?!?" As soon as the roar of rage escaped him, Remus realized he'd just blown any hope of pretending he had nothing to do with any of this. Sirius favored him with an extremely suspicious look, but continued. As he talked, he produced another scrap of parchment from his pocket, keeping it carefully out of Remus's reach.
"Since I lose things from my pockets all the time, I figured I'd write it out twice," Sirius explained happily, waving the parchment while Remus ground his teeth in fury. "And now..." he cleared his throat, unfolded the parchment, and held it up reverently before him. "Master Padfoot, chef extraordinaire, is proud to present...'Olivia Dumbledore's Rum Cake.' "
Remus paled. If it was what it sounded like, it would need...But he didn't want to think about that. He walked over behind Sirius to read the recipe over his shoulder. Unfortunately, all the ingredients required seemed to be in his yard where Sirius could get at them. Except the...
"Come on," Sirius said abruptly, dragging Remus out the door with him. "You're going to help me with this."
"I am? I mean, I am!" Remus amended hastily, seeing the determination in Sirius's face. Sirius stopped just outside the door and began to read off the parchment.
"Okay Remus, I need eggs, flour, butter, sugar, salt..." The list went on and Remus grudgingly fetched the required items until Sirius had a fair- sized pile at his feet. Sirius picked up all of it in one armful and carried it back inside, Remus grumbling at his heels. "I cannot believe I'm actually helping you *cook.*"
Inside, Sirius turned his back for a second to turn on the oven. Remus seized his opportunity. He picked up the only carton of unbroken eggs and dropped it on the floor. Sirius turned, incensed, and Remus was suddenly looking in a totally different direction.
Smoldering with rage, Sirius stomped over to the table. "That's it," he seethed. "You. Will. Stay. Away. From. That. Table. Or I will have to hurt you badly." Remus cowered. Sirius picked up the carton of mush and inspected the damage grimly. Then he grinned suddenly and punched the air in triumph.
"What?" asked Remus, with a sinking feeling that he knew what was coming. Sirius jubilantly showed him the open carton, where four unbroken eggs lay mocking him with their perfect little white shells. "Grrr..." Sirius looked at him quizzically and he quickly said, "Grreat! Oh, Sirius, I'm so happy you found those eggs. For a minute I thought we weren't going to be able to have any rum cake." [The happiest minute of my life...]
Sirius turned his attention once more to the recipe and said, "I think we have everything now. Except the rum." Remus broke out in a cold sweat as Sirius's eyes swiveled toward the refrigerator. He knew what he must do to save civilization as we know it.
Remus darted in front of the refrigerator door, glaring at Sirius. "Oh no you don't," he spat in an enraged voice he scarcely recognized as his own. "Not *my* rum, Sirius. Wild horses couldn't drag my rum out of this refrigerator."
"Oh, come on, Remus," Sirius coaxed. "It's for *cake.* And besides, I bet you never drink it anyway." He tried unsuccessfully to pry Remus away from the refrigerator.
"How do you know that?" demanded Remus indignantly. [I sure could use some right about now,] he thought, wishing he'd left Sirius outside where he'd found him. Or better yet, poured boiling oil on him instead of water.
Sirius forced Remus's hand away from the refrigerator door handle. He was getting close to opening it. Desperately, Remus sank his teeth into Sirius's arm. Sirius hung on grimly, fighting to open the door. At last, he shook Remus off and the door flew open.
Sirius pawed through the contents of the refrigerator and emerged victorious, clutching the bottle of rum. "Now," he announced, "we can finally make our cake."
"Who's we?" Remus inquired sullenly, rubbing new bruises as he got up off the floor. "I am *not* going to help you make that..." He tried to think of something suitably insulting. "That...*cake!*" [Brilliant, Remus.]
"Maybe you're right," Sirius said. "You have been acting kind of...strange...today. Why don't you just watch?" He started measuring the flour.
Remus thought longingly of his wand, lying in his bedroom, and had a sudden inspiration. "You know, Sirius, I'm really tired." He faked a huge yawn. "I think I'll go lie down for a while."
He sprinted down the hallway to his room and stopped only when he reached his bed, where he'd left his wand. It wasn't there. Remus stared in shock at the empty space on the quilt. An icy terror filled him at the thought of facing Olivia Dumbledore's Rum Cake without his wand to help him.
Crawling under the bed, he searched the floor thoroughly, but found no sign of the wand. Desperately, Remus ransacked his room, understanding for the first time that cliché about the needle in the haystack. Suddenly, a thought hit him.
Oh. No. His bedroom was on the way to the bathroom. A horrible suspicion growing in the back of his mind, Remus raced back to the kitchen.
"Sirius," he demanded angrily, "where is my wand?" Sirius finished breaking the eggs before he answered.
"I don't know, Remus," he replied sarcastically. "Maybe you forgot to bring it in when the wandman dropped it off on Monday."
"I know you took it, Sirius," Remus continued, "and if you give it back now, I won't hurt you-badly. Hand over the wand and no one will get hurt," he said, beginning to circle the table toward Sirius.
Sirius held up his wand then, taunting him. "Come and get it, Remus," he teased. Remus didn't dare, of course. Normally he would have been a match for Sirius, but with a wooden spoon the man was invincible.
Instead, Remus watched helplessly as Sirius continued adding ingredients to the mix. When he was almost done, he picked up the rum bottle.
"Cooking lesson number one," he said knowledgeably, opening it and licking his fingers noisily. "Always taste liquor first to make sure it's good quality." Sirius took a long drink from the bottle and smacked his lips. "Mmm, strong stuff. And *very* good quality. I think. Better have some more to make sure." After about ten more swallows, Sirius pronounced the rum "shatishfactory" and proceeded.
Remus was starting to be scared now, but everything went well until Sirius had added the last of the butter to the batter. Then he reached for the rum again. On the second try he grabbed it and pulled it toward him. "Caking leshon number three," he proclaimed, holding up four fingers. "Never ashume the rum ish shtill good. Alwaysh try it again to make sure." Sirius took another long swig. Remus hadn't known he could hold his breath that long.
When he came up for air, Sirius seemed very happy with the quality of the rum and said so in considerably slurred tones. "It'sh time to add it, then," he said happily. Remus was trying to decide whether Sirius was drunk enough for him to try and get his wand back. He decided against it, as Sirius was still sufficiently sober to wield his spoon menacingly. Meanwhile, Sirius poured a liberal dose of rum into the mixing bowl and an even more liberal amount on the tablecloth.
Picking up the recipe, he held it very close to his face and scanned the parchment, looking puzzled. "Hey, Remush, can you read thish for me? It sheemsh to be upshide down." Remus took the parchment and turned it right side up with a sigh.
"It says now you pour the whole thing down the drain and go to bed for a few hours," Remus told Sirius, hoping he sounded convincing.
"Lemme shee that," said Sirius suspiciously. Reluctantly, Remus handed over the recipe. [Oh well, it was worth a try.]
"Plashe in golden brown oven for twenty minutesh," Sirius read, glaring at Remus over the top of the parchment. "All righty then." Clumsily, he spooned the batter into a cake pan. Picking it up, he opened the door and shoved it in...
Remus felt he had to say something. "Sirius? Perhaps you hadn't noticed, but that's not the oven. That's the freezer."
Sirius took a closer look. "Oh. Sho it ish." He located the oven and pushed the pan in, slamming the door behind it. "Now all we have to do ish wait twenty minutesh." Setting the timer carefully for forty-seven minutes, he sat down in the dining room. Remus slumped into a chair too, wondering how he could escape before it was too late.
"Tell you what, Sirius. You must be pretty tired from all that baking. Why don't you just go have a nice long nap on the couch? Don't worry, I'll take care of the cake." [Oh boy, will I! First I'll chop it into little tiny pieces, and then I'll feed it to the garbage disposal, and then I'll CELEBRATE! And I will never drink again as long as I live.]
But Sirius wasn't listening to him. His thoughts, such as they were, were obviously somewhere far away. Suddenly, his eyes widened, as if with an idea. "You know who would enjoy thish cake, Remush?"
[The International Masochists Society?] "Who, Sirius?"
"Harry!" Sirius cried triumphantly. Remus froze in horror.
"NO, Sirius, I really don't think that's a good idea, I'm pretty sure Harry doesn't like rum cake," Remus babbled, trying to save Harry from this horrible fate. But it was too late. Sirius had made up his mind.
He got up from the table and weaved into the living room, Remus in hot pursuit. Too late, Remus remembered that his broomstick was out in plain view.
By the time he caught up with him, Sirius was already out the front door and mounting the broomstick-backward. He quickly rectified this error, though, and Remus barely had time to grab hold of the handle.
This was a big mistake. As Remus would have recalled if he'd been thinking straight, the average wizard is not strong enough to hold down a rising broomstick. Instead, Remus found himself dangling in midair as Sirius gleefully performed loop-the-loops and figure eights before taking off for Number 4 Privet Drive.
It was going to be an interesting evening.
A/N: That was long. But it makes up for the first chapter, plus I had so many ideas I couldn't leave them out of the story. I realize Sirius didn't even start getting drunk till about two-thirds of the way through, but I figured if I was going to make Remus a real psycho, I'd do a proper job of it. Poor Remus probably doesn't deserve it, but Sirius gets so much of the rap I figured I'd even it out a little. I also decided not to involve any magic because it's funnier that way. This chapter made me a little mad because I wrote almost the whole thing perfectly and then my computer erased about half of it, but I think I reconstructed it pretty well. I probably invented the International Masochists Society (I hope I did!) but I subconsciously got the inspiration from the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy-thank you, Arthur Dent! Coming Soon: Chapter Three, The Dog Who Came to Dinner.