Cake

The cake really wasn't properly prepared. It sloped down on one side, causing the icing to avalanche over the edge onto the pink china plate. The gooey sugary paste was at least twice the thickness on one side than the other, in hopes that it would even out the top. The overall affect was rather jaunty, vaguely reminiscent of a Swiss chalet, and the icing was chocolate, at least that was something, but on close examination, one couldn't help but notice the crumbs of cake liberally sprinkled throughout, giving it the appearance of a nubby wool jumper.

"Did you spread a crumb layer first?" snapped Hermione.

"I really didn't think it was necessary. My mum never did." Ron fiddled with the spatula, trying to smooth the edges, but only succeeding in making them look more frantic. No matter what he did, the little cowlicks of icing jutted over the side, as if desperate for escape.

Hermione glared at him from the opposite side of the battered kitchen table. "How do you expect to give this to them looking like this?"

Ron huffed under his breath. "The wager, if I recall, was for me to bake a cake. It didn't specify what it had to look like. Besides, I bet it tastes good at least." He licked the spatula and barely refrained from gagging. His lips struggled for a moment, but after swallowing hard, he smiled gamely and tried to give Hermione a reassuring look.

"You had better hope so," she said, eying him doubtfully. "Just look at it. What's Tonks going to say? This is supposed to be for her after all, the bet was that if she and Kingsley finally got together, you'd bake a chocolate cake and give it to her. George said she'd know why."

"I'd think anyone would rather have a cake from me than the twins, anyway. Who knows what they'd put in it."

"I suppose." Hermione snatched the spatula from his hand then went to the sink and plopped the empty mixing bowl into the dishpan. When she turned the water on and started to scrub, he prodded the cake with his wand, in hopes of propping it up a bit. It didn't help. In fact, the cake seemed to slip a little lower on that side, and a crack appeared in the middle. He started to poke it again when the twins bounded into the room.

"All set, mates. Kingsley and Tonks are up in the old drawing room. We told them you'd be up with dessert." said George.

Fred's eyes narrowed, and an evil grin lit up his features as he eyed the cake. "So that's the masterpiece is it?" He swiped a fingerful of frosting and licked it off, his features twisted in concentration. With a dramatic wheeze, he grasped his throat. "Buggery Hell, Ron, that tastes like shite."

Hermione stared at him for a moment and then tossed her hair over her shoulder. "And you'd know, wouldn't you Fred?" She snatched the plate from Ron and headed for the kitchen door, while Ron and George grinned at Fred's hurt expression.

"She's feisty, that one, Ron. Looks like you're going to have your hands full," Fred said. Ron turned away quickly to follow Hermione, his neck turning a deep red.

"Shut it," he hissed over his shoulder. The twins just made kissing noises then laughed as the door closed.

Hermione was halfway up the stairs already, carrying the plate with steady hands. "Don't listen to them, Ronald. I'm sure Tonks will love the cake." Ron stopped on the third step from the top and eyed her with a bewildered look upon his face.

"Hermione, sometimes I just don't understand you," he said. He shook his head as they went down the hall. When they reached the drawing room, he turned the knob and held open the door with an outstretched arm, letting Hermione enter first.

Three things happened in quick succession. There was a scream from Hermione as she jumped back, an answering bellow from Kingsley as he pulled Tonks closer, and a muffled giggle from Tonks. The cake plate hit the floor with a crash, scattering icing, crumbs, and fragments of pink china on the parquet floor.

Ron gaped at the sight of Tonks on her knees in front of Kingsley, his hands wrapped in her long hair and his pants down around his ankles. Immediately he averted his eyes to the floor. For some reason the thing that grabbed him was that her feet were bare, and he kept his eyes on her bright pink toenail lacquer as he grabbed Hermione's arm and dragged her back into the hallway. He closed the door and leaned against it, hoping against hope it had all been a bad dream. "Sorry!" he shouted.

He heard Tonks' laugh again, less muffled this time, and then Kingsley's low pitched chuckle as he answered. "It's all right, Ron, and thank you for the cake, I'm sure it was first rate before it hit the floor."

"Yeah," Ron said, returning Hermione's wide eyed stare. "It was a beaut all right." He took her hand and pulled her down the stairs. "Next time, we knock first."