Desserts (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
dogdaysofsummer Day 12)
Jul. 15th, 2006 03:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosie_ruesTitle: Desserts
Rating: G
Disclaimer: None of them are mine
Words: 1373
Prompt: summer pudding
Summary: Weasleys. July, 1995
Edit: Let's just call the last part of this AU because I am thick and obviously haven't reread GoF for a while
Through a dog’s eyes, Remus was a figure of blues and butter yellows, soft-hued and faded. Sirius always liked it that way – it was always a little disappointing to return to two legs and find Remus grey and brown and old before his time.
He could still see the threads of grey in Remus’ hair, but they seemed bright blue now, against the yellow tones of his hair. Punk, Sirius thought with satisfaction and padded on by Remus’ side.
When they had been young, when there really had been punks, proper punks, not too-clean modern ones, Remus’ hair had been a little longer. It had curled up at the ends, catching on his collar and, inevitably, around Sirius’ fingers. Sirius missed those curls, and the mutter of protest Remus would make in his sleep when they were pulled.
Curls aside, though, he was still Remus: long-boned, knobbly-kneed, square-faced, quietly, stubbornly himself. And still his.
It was a miracle, Sirius thought with a rush of doggy joy, his tail thrashing. After everything he still had Remus, and that was enough to keep him walking, and stop him from letting them catch him.
“Here we are,” Remus said, and pointed. “The Burrow.”
It would probably look just as shambolic with full colour vision. Might as well just stick a sign on the roof - A Wizard Made Me! Arthur had never had much sense – had he not realised that Muggles didn’t just glue extra rooms to the sides for each new child? Come to think of it, knowing Arthur, that’s probably what he thought an extension was.
Remus lengthened his stride, saying, “I can smell Molly’s cooking.”
Sirius couldn’t, not over dry-grass, summer-earth, rabbit and Remus-sweat. Too many smells, all pouring over him like the sounds of the city had, the first time he ventured back into London. Smells were easier, though. Smells just were – you didn’t have to react to them like you did to words and faces and pictures.
There was an eldritch screech from behind the hedge, and a gnome came flying towards them, legs flailing in the air. Remus dodged, and Sirius, on pure instinct, let loose a torrent of barks and braced himself to leap up and catch it.
“No!” Remus said firmly.
Spoilsport. Couldn’t even harass gnomes these days.
A girl’s face appeared over the top of the hedge, wide-eyed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise anyone- Professor Lupin!”
“Hello, Ginny,” Remus said, in his professor-voice, which always made Sirius want to pant with laughter. “Are your parents in?”
“Everyone’s here,” Ginny said with a beaming smile. “Except Percy, who’s always at work. Are you okay, professor? I didn’t mean to hit you.”
So this was the one who fancied Harry? Already predisposed to like her, Sirius settled back on his heels and listened in amusement. Good old Professor Moony.
“Oh, I can dodge,” Remus said with a smile. “Are you degnoming on your own?”
“Oh, Ron’s helping,” Ginny said, tossing her head. “Supposedly. He’s actually talking secrets with Hermione. I don’t mind though. Degnoming’s good for the arms. Builds muscle up, y’know. For Quidditch.”
She played Quidditch? Why the hell was Harry mooning around over some drippy Ravenclaw when he had a proper Quidditch-playing Gryffindor right here? Surely he couldn’t be more hopeless with girls than James had been?
“Ginny!” a worried voice called suddenly. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Professor Lupin,” Ginny bellowed back. “Don’t fuss, Hermione!”
There was the sound of pounding feet, and Ron and Hermione appeared beside Ginny.
“Professor!” Hermione said breathlessly. “And, er, Snuffles. Oh, good gracious, you’d better come inside before anyone sees you.”
Sirius winced at the name as Ginny gave Hermione a suspicious look.
“An excellent idea,” Remus said, starting forward. “Come along, Snuffles.”
“You dog isn’t really called Snuffles, is he?” Ginny demanded. Sirius could see her opinion of Remus plummeting.
“I’m afraid so,” Remus said mildly. “He does, you see.”
Git.
“It was either that or Slobbers, and I didn’t think he’d like that.”
Ron snickered. Sirius stalked ahead, trying to convey indignation with the lash of his tail.
In the kitchen, Molly was surrounded by piles of fruit. Sirius paused on the threshold, watching her toss slippery slices into the pan, hands confident. He could smell peaches and cherries, summer-sweet.
She looked up at the sound of his feet, and laughed. “Oh, goodness me. Where did you come from, boy?”
“He’s with me,” Remus said, following him in. “Hello, Molly. Is Arthur around?”
“Messing around in the shed,” Molly said with a sniff. “Ginny, go and get your father.”
“Shall I get Bill and Charlie?” Ron asked eagerly. “They’re both here.”
Sirius padded over and fixed his eyes on Molly. Sure enough, she slipped him half a peach. He slurped it up happily, and Remus said, sounding pained, “I should warn you that he has absolutely no shame.”
Hermione was staring at him, obviously caught between giggles and horror. Sirius winked at her, and then wagged his tail happily, gazing up at Molly.
“He’s a lovely dog,” she said, rubbing his ears. “I would have liked a dog, but poor Percy is allergic.” This time he got a lychee, which was a little too rubbery for his tastes.
“Snuffles,” Remus said. “Come here.”
Sirius sighed heavily. Honestly, anyone would think Remus wanted him to get scurvy.
A little door on the front of the oven opened, and a little clock on a spring burst out, ringing madly.
“Ah, the flapjacks,” Molly said. “Excuse me, Remus.”
By the time she was laying the flapjacks out to cool, the kitchen was full of Weasleys. Sirius settled down beside Ginny, and was trying his best to convey the fact that he liked flapjacks, he really did, really, really, really.
“You really aren’t a Snuffles,” Ginny murmured, and pinched one off the tray, waving it in the air to cool. “Ow, fingers.”
“Don’t feed him!” Hermione hissed.
“Why not?”
“Well, he – that is – he- just don’t.”
Remus cleared his throat and said, “Dumbledore sent us.”
“Is something wrong with Harry?” Molly asked, and Ginny froze, the flapjack dangling from her fingertips.
“No, no, not at all,” Remus said. “You’ve heard from him what happened, I assume?”
Molly flushed, fussing with her apron. “Well, yes, but surely- I’m sure Harry thought he-”
“Mum!” Ron and Ginny chorused in outrage, and Hermione said, “The Prophet’s wrong, Mrs Weasley. I keep telling you.”
Sirius snagged the biscuit from Ginny. It was hot, but deliciously so, syrupy and sticky. He was sure he hadn’t had such a sweet tooth before – before – but sugar was so good.
“I can assure you-” Remus was saying.
Sirius, bored, decided to speed things up. With a stretch and a flicker of effort, he rose to his feet. “Alright there, Moll?”
For a moment everyone froze. Then Bill and Charlie went for their wands, and Molly screamed, “Sirius Black!” and threw the flapjacks at him.
Sirius yelped and turned back into Padfoot, diving below Remus’ chair. Ron and Hermione were shouting, Molly was screaming, and Remus was on his feet, trying to call for silence.
“It wasn’t him, Mum,” Ron shouted, and Sirius watched legs tangle around the kitchen as Hermione planted herself firmly in front of him, saying shrilly, “He’s Harry’s godfather! Harry trusts him.”
“He’s an animagus!” a twin was saying.
“Albus trusts him,” Remus said firmly. “And, yes, Fred, he is. Unregistered, I’m afraid.”
“Wow,” the twin said thoughtfully, and Molly shrieked, “Don’t you dare, Fred Weasley!”
Sirius took that to mean things were calming down and stuck his head out from under the chair. There was a flapjack lying on the flagstones in front of him, beside Hermione’s heel. It seemed a shame to waste it.
“Will you stop that?” Remus snapped. “And turn back.”
Sirius sighed around his mouthful, and rose to his feet again. “You always were a good cook, Molly.”
She looked at him, eyes narrowed, and then said, “You always did raid my kitchen, if I remember rightly. I suppose we’d better hear your story, then.”
When, between the two of them, they’d told it all, it was Ginny who had the final word.
“I knew you didn’t look like a Snuffles,” she said firmly.
Cambridgeshire Cornwall Cumberland Devon Dorset Essex Kent Lincolnshire Middlesex Northamptonshire Surrey Sussex
Rating: G
Disclaimer: None of them are mine
Words: 1373
Prompt: summer pudding
Summary: Weasleys. July, 1995
Edit: Let's just call the last part of this AU because I am thick and obviously haven't reread GoF for a while
Through a dog’s eyes, Remus was a figure of blues and butter yellows, soft-hued and faded. Sirius always liked it that way – it was always a little disappointing to return to two legs and find Remus grey and brown and old before his time.
He could still see the threads of grey in Remus’ hair, but they seemed bright blue now, against the yellow tones of his hair. Punk, Sirius thought with satisfaction and padded on by Remus’ side.
When they had been young, when there really had been punks, proper punks, not too-clean modern ones, Remus’ hair had been a little longer. It had curled up at the ends, catching on his collar and, inevitably, around Sirius’ fingers. Sirius missed those curls, and the mutter of protest Remus would make in his sleep when they were pulled.
Curls aside, though, he was still Remus: long-boned, knobbly-kneed, square-faced, quietly, stubbornly himself. And still his.
It was a miracle, Sirius thought with a rush of doggy joy, his tail thrashing. After everything he still had Remus, and that was enough to keep him walking, and stop him from letting them catch him.
“Here we are,” Remus said, and pointed. “The Burrow.”
It would probably look just as shambolic with full colour vision. Might as well just stick a sign on the roof - A Wizard Made Me! Arthur had never had much sense – had he not realised that Muggles didn’t just glue extra rooms to the sides for each new child? Come to think of it, knowing Arthur, that’s probably what he thought an extension was.
Remus lengthened his stride, saying, “I can smell Molly’s cooking.”
Sirius couldn’t, not over dry-grass, summer-earth, rabbit and Remus-sweat. Too many smells, all pouring over him like the sounds of the city had, the first time he ventured back into London. Smells were easier, though. Smells just were – you didn’t have to react to them like you did to words and faces and pictures.
There was an eldritch screech from behind the hedge, and a gnome came flying towards them, legs flailing in the air. Remus dodged, and Sirius, on pure instinct, let loose a torrent of barks and braced himself to leap up and catch it.
“No!” Remus said firmly.
Spoilsport. Couldn’t even harass gnomes these days.
A girl’s face appeared over the top of the hedge, wide-eyed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise anyone- Professor Lupin!”
“Hello, Ginny,” Remus said, in his professor-voice, which always made Sirius want to pant with laughter. “Are your parents in?”
“Everyone’s here,” Ginny said with a beaming smile. “Except Percy, who’s always at work. Are you okay, professor? I didn’t mean to hit you.”
So this was the one who fancied Harry? Already predisposed to like her, Sirius settled back on his heels and listened in amusement. Good old Professor Moony.
“Oh, I can dodge,” Remus said with a smile. “Are you degnoming on your own?”
“Oh, Ron’s helping,” Ginny said, tossing her head. “Supposedly. He’s actually talking secrets with Hermione. I don’t mind though. Degnoming’s good for the arms. Builds muscle up, y’know. For Quidditch.”
She played Quidditch? Why the hell was Harry mooning around over some drippy Ravenclaw when he had a proper Quidditch-playing Gryffindor right here? Surely he couldn’t be more hopeless with girls than James had been?
“Ginny!” a worried voice called suddenly. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Professor Lupin,” Ginny bellowed back. “Don’t fuss, Hermione!”
There was the sound of pounding feet, and Ron and Hermione appeared beside Ginny.
“Professor!” Hermione said breathlessly. “And, er, Snuffles. Oh, good gracious, you’d better come inside before anyone sees you.”
Sirius winced at the name as Ginny gave Hermione a suspicious look.
“An excellent idea,” Remus said, starting forward. “Come along, Snuffles.”
“You dog isn’t really called Snuffles, is he?” Ginny demanded. Sirius could see her opinion of Remus plummeting.
“I’m afraid so,” Remus said mildly. “He does, you see.”
Git.
“It was either that or Slobbers, and I didn’t think he’d like that.”
Ron snickered. Sirius stalked ahead, trying to convey indignation with the lash of his tail.
In the kitchen, Molly was surrounded by piles of fruit. Sirius paused on the threshold, watching her toss slippery slices into the pan, hands confident. He could smell peaches and cherries, summer-sweet.
She looked up at the sound of his feet, and laughed. “Oh, goodness me. Where did you come from, boy?”
“He’s with me,” Remus said, following him in. “Hello, Molly. Is Arthur around?”
“Messing around in the shed,” Molly said with a sniff. “Ginny, go and get your father.”
“Shall I get Bill and Charlie?” Ron asked eagerly. “They’re both here.”
Sirius padded over and fixed his eyes on Molly. Sure enough, she slipped him half a peach. He slurped it up happily, and Remus said, sounding pained, “I should warn you that he has absolutely no shame.”
Hermione was staring at him, obviously caught between giggles and horror. Sirius winked at her, and then wagged his tail happily, gazing up at Molly.
“He’s a lovely dog,” she said, rubbing his ears. “I would have liked a dog, but poor Percy is allergic.” This time he got a lychee, which was a little too rubbery for his tastes.
“Snuffles,” Remus said. “Come here.”
Sirius sighed heavily. Honestly, anyone would think Remus wanted him to get scurvy.
A little door on the front of the oven opened, and a little clock on a spring burst out, ringing madly.
“Ah, the flapjacks,” Molly said. “Excuse me, Remus.”
By the time she was laying the flapjacks out to cool, the kitchen was full of Weasleys. Sirius settled down beside Ginny, and was trying his best to convey the fact that he liked flapjacks, he really did, really, really, really.
“You really aren’t a Snuffles,” Ginny murmured, and pinched one off the tray, waving it in the air to cool. “Ow, fingers.”
“Don’t feed him!” Hermione hissed.
“Why not?”
“Well, he – that is – he- just don’t.”
Remus cleared his throat and said, “Dumbledore sent us.”
“Is something wrong with Harry?” Molly asked, and Ginny froze, the flapjack dangling from her fingertips.
“No, no, not at all,” Remus said. “You’ve heard from him what happened, I assume?”
Molly flushed, fussing with her apron. “Well, yes, but surely- I’m sure Harry thought he-”
“Mum!” Ron and Ginny chorused in outrage, and Hermione said, “The Prophet’s wrong, Mrs Weasley. I keep telling you.”
Sirius snagged the biscuit from Ginny. It was hot, but deliciously so, syrupy and sticky. He was sure he hadn’t had such a sweet tooth before – before – but sugar was so good.
“I can assure you-” Remus was saying.
Sirius, bored, decided to speed things up. With a stretch and a flicker of effort, he rose to his feet. “Alright there, Moll?”
For a moment everyone froze. Then Bill and Charlie went for their wands, and Molly screamed, “Sirius Black!” and threw the flapjacks at him.
Sirius yelped and turned back into Padfoot, diving below Remus’ chair. Ron and Hermione were shouting, Molly was screaming, and Remus was on his feet, trying to call for silence.
“It wasn’t him, Mum,” Ron shouted, and Sirius watched legs tangle around the kitchen as Hermione planted herself firmly in front of him, saying shrilly, “He’s Harry’s godfather! Harry trusts him.”
“He’s an animagus!” a twin was saying.
“Albus trusts him,” Remus said firmly. “And, yes, Fred, he is. Unregistered, I’m afraid.”
“Wow,” the twin said thoughtfully, and Molly shrieked, “Don’t you dare, Fred Weasley!”
Sirius took that to mean things were calming down and stuck his head out from under the chair. There was a flapjack lying on the flagstones in front of him, beside Hermione’s heel. It seemed a shame to waste it.
“Will you stop that?” Remus snapped. “And turn back.”
Sirius sighed around his mouthful, and rose to his feet again. “You always were a good cook, Molly.”
She looked at him, eyes narrowed, and then said, “You always did raid my kitchen, if I remember rightly. I suppose we’d better hear your story, then.”
When, between the two of them, they’d told it all, it was Ginny who had the final word.
“I knew you didn’t look like a Snuffles,” she said firmly.
Cambridgeshire Cornwall Cumberland Devon Dorset Essex Kent Lincolnshire Middlesex Northamptonshire Surrey Sussex
