Chapter 1 : A Cake Must Be Baked
| ||Rating: 15+||Chapter Reviews: 20|
Background: Font color:
“Ahoy there matey!” I call out to Louis, tipping slightly down the stairs. So maybe those drinkies have had a bit of an effect. Not exactly like I’ve had a lot or anything, just some elf-wine, then a bit more and a bit more after that, and then some of that yummy Muggle stuff – vodky? Love girlies.
Don’t see why Louis looks so shocked, it’s not that late, and really he should be used to my pirate lingo by now. “I have decided we must bake a cake!”
He’s now looking surprised. I have no idea why he looks surprised. Everyone knows two in the morning is the best time for baking cakes.
“Because it’s Professor Longbottom’s birthday tomorrow,” I announce grandly, “and he needs a cake. Therefore it must be us to do the baking.”
“Ah – yeah – see, about that…” He’s managing to look spectacularly awkward now. Unusual really. Those Weasley-Delacour relatives of mine are normally the epitome of poised. Well, Dom aside, but she still looks it. “I’m just a bit busy right now, so –“
Suddenly, there’s a stumbling noise down the stairs behind me. I twirl rather dizzily to look at whichever twonk it is doing the stumbling.
“What are you doing here?” we chorus. We’ve been friends for ages me and Louise. Sharing a dorm for a million years tends to have that effect though. Lovely girl. Slightly tartish tendencies, but no one’s perfect I suppose. I notice her eyes flickering in the general direction of the unusual specimen of the blonde Weasley. Clearly got some (read most) of those old Veela genes. Suddenly clicks into place.
“Oh for Merlin’s – look here matey,” I waggle my finger tipsily at Louise. “You can’t hook up with him, it’s immoral. For a) being at least a year older than him and b) because you can’t get together! You’re called Louise! Louis and Louise? Just…un-natural. Would be like… Lily without a boyfriend or something.” Louis is looking rather thunderstruck in his armchair by the fire. I love the Gryffindor Common Room, it’s so warm and cosy and – “Step away from the child Louise! He must help me in my mission of cake baking.”
“But Molly,” she whines rather pitifully, “he’s so pretty – come on, don’t be a spoilsport! And what do you mean bake a cake?”
“I mean, bake a cake.” I proclaim – punctuating each point with more finger stabbing of the vicious kind.
“I – I’ll stop you…” she stammers.
A slightly manic gleam came into my eyes, yes I can feel it, don’t look at me like that! Dress wand stealthily from back pocket of trackies “Do you really think this wise bo – girl? Crossing bla – wands with a pi – witch?”
She lookes at me strangely. “Have you been watching that Muggle movie thing again Molly? The one with the pretty pirate who’s just so pretty and pirate-y!”
Damn. Caught. “Err… haha. .. no idea what you’re talking about. Now stand aside fool!”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“Petri – what’s the rest of that spell Louis?”
“HA! That’s the one. Petrificus Totalas!”
With a dull thud, Louise crashes backwards to the floor. Then, because that’s what pirates do, I step daintily over her – pick Louis up by his elbow and swashbuckle out of the Common Room.
“Ahh, what are you… wait… is she okay?”
Look backwards and see her lying on the floor, rather like a plank. Common knowledge that all pirates must have a plank. Because if they don’t have a plank there can be no walking of the plank, and if there’s no walking of the plank there’s no pirate.
“She comes with us!” I pronounce grandly. “Pick her up minion!”
He glares rather pointedly. “Enervate!”
“Err… what are you doing? Don’t do that! Don’t… oh…” Decide discretion is often the better part of valour and duck behind Louis, waving my wand threateningly as I go. Louise stands up. She’s not talking. Louise always talks.
“Stand your ground sailor! Stand your – Did you just flick me?”
Shocking attitude from the rank and file. She totally did flick me, right on the nose. Outrageous insubordination.
“Umm… yeah I did! Leave Louis alone!”
I roll my sleeves up. It’s a long-sleeved t-shirt-y thing. One arm promptly falls down.
“Oh yeah? Or what?”
“Or this!” She reaches out to flick me again.
I sway back, agility being a strong point and all. “Stupefy!”
Louis looks on, eyes rather wider than normal. I mean, they are fairly wide to begin with, but this is just downright silly. “Err… did you just Stun your best friend?”
“Mmm,” I adopt a classically witty thinking pose. “Why yes, I did. Now, are you coming?”
“Do I have to?” he whinges.
He could whinge for England this boy. I tell him this. “You could whinge for England, Louis. And yes, you must. You are the best baker, and the best baker must bake the cake. Haha that rhymes!”
“Oh Merlin.” I hear him murmur.
“If you don’t bake the cake, you will walk the plank!”
“But you don’t have a plank,” he protests oh so naively.
“Louise is the plank,” I deign to remind him, “so if you don’t fancy taking a walk off the tower I suggest you head off right now matey.”
HA. Have cracked him.
“I want full creative control though.”
“Err… what? That’s not part of the plan!”
“Well it is now!”
Petulant little child. Clearly has issues with authority, definite mutineer-type, will have to keep an eye on him.
“Alright fine, but you just watch it four-eyes, I’m watching you.” I point menacingly at him. He looks less than terrified although he does adjust his glasses rather nervously. “Now, let us go, march!”
He’s not so much marching as shambling along reluctantly, I prance along beside him in a very generous attempt to encourage him. The prancing seemingly is not amusing at him, he’s glaring quite a lot now. I shoot some sparks from my wand at his bum.
He leaps up and glares further.
“Come on Weasley!” I cheer. “March! Left! Right! Left! There you go!”
“If I had my wand…”
“Ah but you don’t, so now you must bake me a cake, right cake baker?”
He throws another filthy glare, really very poor attitude. Does, however, start walking.
We make it down to the kitchens without too much trouble. May have abused and been abused by the Fat Lady, (“HAHAHA you’re so fat!” “Why you cheeky little –“)
and fallen down some stairs, but really nothing very major. Stand in front of the fruit portrait thing, swaying only very slightly.
“Okay, now I must tickle the pear!”
“Knock yourself out.”
“It’s not working,” I pout. “Why is that it’s not working?”
“You’re poking it very hard in the eye. Not quite the same thing as tickling I’m afraid.”
“Am no- OW! It bit me! That’s it. “ Drew wand and pointed it at the portrait. “You’ve got until the count of three, if by three you haven’t moved you’re going to cop it alright?”
The pear says nothing; Louis is in the midst of a fit of hysterics, no help at all, him.
“One! Oh you’re so in for it now. Two! I’m warning you matey, you are going to get it so hard. Thre-“
The pear turns into a door-handle, brass, weighty, pleasing on the eye. “Ah, excellent decision. Congratulations Mr. Pear, fine choice sir. Now, Louis, board.”
We traipse into the kitchen and are immediately assaulted by House Elves. Tens, hundreds, Merlin, good 50,000 of them in here at least.
“You there!” I point at a fat little one nearish to me. “What’s your name?”
“Chubs, Miss!” he squeaks. “How can we serve you this night?”
I struggle not to laugh “Chubs eh? Well Chubs, we must bake a cake for Professor Longbottom, so you must bring us the ingredients.”
“Very good Miss and Sir! What cake will you be baking this evening?”
“Chocolate!” I blurt out excitedly.
“What?” cries Louis. “You said I had control!”
“No I didn’t!”
“Yes you did! You said I had creative control!”
“Stop shouting! This isn’t creative. We want a chocolate cake Chubs, a really big one.”
“Yes Miss! Chubs is on it Miss!”
“Handy creatures these House Elves,” I venture to no one in particular. “Do you think they’re hard to come by or whatever?”
“”Miss is looking for a House Elf?” exclaimed Chubbs zooming back laden with ingredients. No idea what they are, look cake-y though.
“Most definitely, Chubb-sy. What say you?”
“Molly,” hisses Louis, “you can’t steal a Hogwarts House Elf!”
“Why not?” I hiss back.
“Because it’s not the done thing, okay?
“Fine, whatever.” I turn to Chubs and whisper, “You and me aren’t done by a long shot matey.”
He looks thrilled.
“Now, give Sir the ingredients and skedaddle. Got it?”
He dumps the ingredients and promptly races off. I look over them and notice an overly glaring omission.
“Yes, Molly?” he replies wearily.
“Where’s the rum?”
“The rum! Why is there no rum? All Muggle cakes have rum in them, it’s a fact.”
Louis rolls his eyes and begins to bake and bake and bake and bake some more. He bakes so much that I feel my eyes starting to drift, to blink and then finally to shut.
Eyes flick open with a start. Loud noises are very loud.
“Hurry Miss, hurry, you’ll miss the breakfast!”
“Hey, what? What are you doing to me! Who are you?”
“It’s Chubs Miss!”
I open my eyes fully and begin to stare around with horror. Seemingly every last one of the Hogwarts Elves is running around in something close to a blind panic. I look down and noticed I’m lying on a table, next to a cake, surrounded by food. Lots of food. Breakfast food. There are four other tables. Oh… not good. The elves suddenly stop running and stand still, almost as if they’re waiting for something.
There’s a pop and then suddenly, I’m not the kitchens any more. Funny, the Great Hall looks even bigger when you’re on the Staff Table. I sit up and spot Professor Longbottom. He’s the one looking slightly less surprised than the rest. I twist and bend and somehow pick up the giant cake with one hand while levering outrageously stiff body into a standing position. Woahh blood rush. I jump down, manage to balance with some success and nonce over to the good Professor.
“For you Professor,” I announce grandly.
“Ahh… thank you Miss Weasley?” he ventures, doesn’t sound particularly confident at all about the whole thing I must say. “And what exactly did I do to deserve such a fine cake?”
“Well… it’s your birthday sir!”
“Um, no it isn’t!”
“Molly, it’s not – trust me. Actually, why don’t you ask your friend Miss Brown over there, she’ll tell you.”
Turned, suddenly nervous. “Ahh Louise haha… just who I was looking for!”
“Ahoy there Molly, you scurvy dog! Stupefy!”
A/N: Would just like to thank both Molly [SnitchSnatcher] and Mel [RonsGirlFriday] for looking this over for me, most definitely needed it. Further thanks to Mel for coming up with that completely delicious summary! That’s about it really, just a silly little one-shot, I know, but I do hope you enjoyed it. Please drop by with a review and let me know what you think ^^
Other Similar Stories
The Middle Man
I Married a ...