By Gen X
"I don't think you have the faintest idea what you're doing." Hermione said watching Ron more than a little doubtfully.
"I know what I'm doing."
"Oh really," she drawled. She crossed her arms. "So what are you doing?"
Ron paused.
"I thought so," Hermione gloated.
"I know what I'm doing!"
Hermione nodded slowly, not believing a word of it.
Ron frowned and searched for words to prove his statement, but none weren't coming. He looked down at the kitchen counter. "I'm adding the stuff to the thingy." He dumped more stuff into the bowl for emphasis.
She sighed and snagged the bowl away. "That's supposed to go in afterwards."
"No it's not!" he protested. Ron picked up the packet and waved it around a bit for emphasis. "This is how my Mum always does it."
Hermione grabbed the packet to stop the bits of cake mixture from flying around the room. She turned it around and pointed to the instructions. "It clearly says, 'Mix all dry ingredients first.'"
"Then why would they put the caramel in the same box?"
"Just trust me on this." Hermione sighed and dumped the entire mangled contents into the garbage.
Ron picked up the cake packet, looking at the instructions. "I didn't think you were supposed to do that."
Instead of answering, Hermione started digging about in the kitchen. Within moments she had flour, eggs, milk, vanilla, sugar, and most importantly cookbooks laid out on the counter. Ron watched with wide eyes. The instant cake packet had looked much less intimidating. Ron, who already knew he had no wizardry cooking skills, was suddenly less eager to prove that he had muggle cooking skills at all.
"I don't see why we don't just pop over to Hogsmeade."
Hermione looked at him frustrated. Her kitchen was a bit cluttered and she was feeling a bit put out. They hadn't many sweets in her house, for the sake of her bicuspids and she was certain that her parents wouldn't appreciate a mess. Especially a dessert related one. "It was your idea."
"It's all got too hard. We can buy Harry a cake."
"And you have money?"
"Er..."
"That's what I thought and before you ask, I don't either. It won't be hard. Just follow the instructions."
"Oh. Like potions, right?"
Hermione wished she had money.
"Can you hand me the baking powder"
"This?"
"No. Next to it. The white powder."
"This?"
"That's the flour."
"This?"
"That's dish soap."
"Hmm..."
"You didn't just put that in your--"
"You're right."
"--mouth?"
"Ewwwwwwwwww!"
"It's still gooey." Ron dipped a finger into the cake batter. "But it doesn't taste bad. Maybe we can send it to Harry like this."
"I'm sure Harry's eaten cake batter before."
"You haven't met his aunt and uncle."
Hermione considered this. Cake batter like cookie dough was an immutable right of children. "Another time. I don't think Pig would appreciate it."
"Is it done yet?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because it's got to cook," Hermione explained in patient tones she was no longer feeling.
"Why is it taking so long?" Ron played with the egg timer dial, pushing it forward a few bits. Gears churned and the slow measured tick-tick went something like ticktickticktick.
Hermione slapped his hand.
Ron frowned and got up to pace in front of the oven. He looked at the dial. "Hey! Did you know this thing goes up to 600 whatevers?"
Hermione slapped his hand again.
"Hey! I didn't do anything!"
"That was for thinking it. We don't need a burned cake."
"How do you know I was thinking it."
"I know you."
"Well, I was just going to help it along."
"Is it done yet?"
"Almost."
"It smells good."
"I know."
"It smells really, really good."
"Do you think Harry would mind?"
"Ron!"
"Well, do you?"
Hermione sighed.
"Well?"
"I think we should have made cupcakes."
"Would you stop moping?"
Ron sighed dramatically. He looked at the oven forlorn. "It's gone, all gone."
"Like a good birthday gift should."
"We didn't even get to taste it."
"We still have clean up to do," Hermione said cheerfully.
Ron groaned.
Hermione grinned. Ron was not getting this.
"Do we have to?"
She glared. "Yes, yes we have. It won't be a bad thing."
"It's housework. Mum usually does the housework."
"If you even say it's a girl thing--"
"But it is..." Ron flinched under her glare. "...n't," he added. "It isn't. Of course it isn't."
Hermione lifted a spoon from the cake batter bowl. She licked it. "Well, if you're going to insist it's not a guy thing..." She licked the spoon again. Ron watched entranced.
"Which it's so not," he agreed, and grabbed another spoon.
"Thought so."
Afterwards...
"Think he liked it?" Ron asked.
"I'm sure." Hermione nodded.
Everything was clean. They were in the process of putting everything away. Ron held up a box.
"Hey, you didn't tell me this stuff was the baking powder."
"But, I saw... I pointed... you grabbed..."
Ron dipped in a finger experimentally. "It tastes worse than the soap."
"So what did you..." she stammered unable to wrap her mind around the problem. The cake had cooked find. It looked normal. "But it tasted good!"
"Heh. Go fig."
"But... but..."
"I told you I knew what I was doing."
"But..."
fin