Adventures in Muggle Cookery

Adventures In Muggle Cookery

Author's Note: Written for musesfool based on the prompt: When Remus opened the door, he could smell something burning.

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When Remus opened the door, he could smell something burning.

He dropped the sacks of food from the market and sprinted straight away to the kitchenette at the back of the flat. He wrinkled his nose at the bitter-sour smell of--something with meat, he assumed--and prayed that the room wasn't engulfed in flames yet.

He skidded to a stop at the plumes wafting from around the oven door. Remus immediately turned the heat dial off, grabbed a tea towel and pulled the door open. Choking on the fumes, he blindly reached in through the billowing smoke to pull out something blackened and shriveled inside what used to be his mum's good casserole pan. He flung it into the sink where it landed with a ceramic clunk. He reached over and turned on the tap; the mass steamed and hissed, and he tried not to flinch when the dish cracked under the strain of cold water meeting overheated crockery.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, grumbling at the Ministry edict that prevented them from using magic in the Muggle flat while they were working undercover tracking down Death Eaters in London. He looked round for any sign of his flatmate. "Sirius!"

"Yeah?"

Sirius appeared in the doorway, gleaming and barefoot and shirtless, toweling his hair dry; obviously fresh from the shower. He grinned warily. "You're back early, Moony, did you stop off at the market--?"

Ignoring him, Remus pointed to the sink. "What in Merlin's name--?"

Sirius glanced over and did a double-take at the cracked and sodden mess in the sink. "Is that--is that my shepherd's pie?" His face twisted, oddly enough, into disappointment.

Remus blinked. "Whatever it is it's unrecognizable now."

Sirius walked over to the sink and stared at the burnt offering. "Bollocks," he muttered.

"Whatever were you doing, Padfoot?"

"I was--I was cooking dinner."

Remus arched an unbelieving eyebrow. "You were cooking dinner?" He glanced to the table, where his mum's Muggle cookbook laid open. Sure enough, there was the recipe for shepherd's pie. "You? The Muggle way?"

Sirius sounded oddly defiant. "But you do it, yeah? I didn't think it was fair for you to cook all the time and tonight I knew you were running late so I thought I would give it a go. I thought it'd be easy enough to follow the instructions and it was--"

Now Remus noticed the hodge-podge of bowls and ingredients on the sideboard.

"But I started late and I wanted it done by the time you were back," he finished lamely. He looked abashed. "I would've used magic but we're not allowed to, thanks to the Ministry." At that he scowled. Remus scowled too. "So I looked at the cooking time and thought--"

"Thought what?"

Sirius' voice dropped to an embarrassed whisper. "I thought that if the recipe said to cook it at three-fifty for one hour, then seven hundred for thirty minutes would work just as well."

Remus stared at him in disbelief, feeling the giggles churn and threaten to erupt from somewhere in his stomach. He tried not to laugh, because poor Sirius looked just like a beaten puppy, but he couldn't help it.

"Padfoot, that's just--" he began. He snickered, then guffawed, then burst out into full-scale laughter.

Sirius looked away, even more hurt. "I don't see how it's so funny."

Remus wheezed, wiped his eyes then laid his hand on Sirius' shoulder. "You're right, it's not funny. It's just that Muggle cooking doesn't work that way." At Sirius' forlorn look he stilled his chuckles. "I grew up with Muggle cooking, you know," he said gently. "I'll be glad to show you next time, yeah?"

"As if there'll be a next time," Sirius muttered.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Oh you'll try again, I'm sure, when you're starving enough. At least you'll be aware you can't rush it." He grinned at Sirius. "Come on then, I did stop off at the market, we can start over or go out, your choice."

"Umm, it's not that easy to do," Sirius said wryly.

"Why's that?"

"Because--"

Before Sirius could answer, there was a knock at the front door, and James' cheery voice rang out. "So what's for dinner, mates? I'm starving!"