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#(also credit to emily and shannon for coining pampates as a mis-pronunciation of pancakes)
rebelcoelacanth · 7 years
Text
Pampates and Scrambly Eggs
Written for @angryspace-ravenclaw as a thank-you for listening and talking the other day. 
Permalink: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11740260
Regulus awoke with a start, his ears immediately focusing on the sounds coming from within the house. A sharp crash had awoken him, and now the faint sounds of scurrying feet and closing cupboards filled the silence. Turning to face his husband, Regulus saw that James slept on, his brows furrowed as they often did when he dreamt. Often, Regulus would watch James’ sleeping facial expressions, trying to guess at the nature of the dreams. Tonight, however, he shifted to move from the bed. Harry slept in the room next door and his safety stood at the forefront of Regulus’ thoughts.
Upon pushing open the child’s bedroom door, Regulus’ eyes fell upon the bed, and his stomach dropped to the floor. Empty. Turning on his heel, Regulus raced down the hall, past his open bedroom door, and down the stairs. Stopping momentarily at the bottom of the stairs to listen, Regulus noticed an umbrella leaning by the front door, which, he noted, was still closed and latched. Umbrella-turned-potential-weapon in hand, Regulus walked swiftly toward the sounds, which he was now relatively sure were coming from the kitchen. Just before reaching the doorway, he paused and turned his back so he could lean against the doorjamb and hopefully get a better sense of what was going on inside.
“…just like that!” Regulus heard, followed by the sound of glass hitting the counter. “Whoops!”
Turning his head to peer into the kitchen, Regulus felt his fear dissipate. A loud, uncontrolled laugh took its place within his chest, bursting forth and surprising Harry who nearly fell off his stool.
“Shhhh, Papa! You gunna wake daddy! It’s a surprise!” Harry stood on his footstool, a dark cherrywood piece which Remus had carved and Sirius had painted (with a picture of a stag, a dog, a wolf and a rat running in the moonlight). Not that the paintwork could be seen at the moment; the footstool, like the boy, was covered in flour.
Regulus shifted his gaze from his son, taking in the flour-covered floor and counters, the multiple cracked eggs covering the latter, and the open milk, jams and butters all perched precariously on the table next to the stove. The stove, he noted, had been prepped with pans, but was thankfully turned off. The oven clock read 5:17.
“Are you making breakfast for Daddy’s birthday?” Regulus asked and his son nodded in reply. “How’s it going?”
Harry put his finger to his chin, tapping it slightly as he surveyed his work area. As he often was, Regulus found himself struck by how much Harry took after James.
“I think not great” Harry replied after several moments, “it is assposed to be chocolate pampates and scrambly eggs but the eggs keep breaking on the wrong places and I don’t know how to make pampates.” Harry’s face had taken on an increasingly worried expression as he recounted the situation. By the time he’d finished, he looked on the verge of tears. Regulus stepped into the kitchen, kneeling in the flour to get eye-level with his son.
“Can I help you?”
Harry looked into his father’s eyes and thought for a moment before nodding.
“It looks like you’ve made some real progress,” Regulus said gesturing to Harry’s work station, “now I think we should figure out the best way to get both chocolate pancakes and scrambled eggs cooking. Do you agree?”
Harry nodded, brightening visibly at the recognition of his work and the introduction of a plan. “YES!” he shouted. Capturing his mouth with his hands, Harry looked sheepishly toward his father. Regulus responded with a tousle to Harry’s hair as he stood up. As much as he wanted to begin cleaning up the mess and get things started fresh, Regulus knew this was Harry’s project and that they should do things the five-year-old’s way.
“Which first, eggs or pancakes?” Regulus asked. Again, Harry put his finger to his chin as he thought.
“PANC- I mean, pancakes” Harry finished in a dramatic whisper. Regulus winked at him, clearing away the eggs and gathering the necessary ingredients.
“I’m going to pop upstairs to get my wand,” Regulus said, “it’ll help us get the food made.” To his surprise, Harry reached out his arm in an attempt to impede his exit.
“No magic! No magic for birfday foods!” Harry said, his tone urgent as though there was nothing more important than preventing his father from retrieving his wand. Regulus raised an eyebrow and Harry, seeing his father’s confusion, elaborated. “Mummy says there’s something extra special about foods made the muggle way. That’s why she and Momo always make my birthday cake without magic and I wanna make this food extra special for Daddy!” Harry relaxed when he saw his father nod his head.
“I’d always wondered why your birthday cakes are so delicious,” Regulus said as he returned to the counter, “if that’s your mom’s trick, we should definitely give it a go.”
Regulus measured, Harry poured. The two took turns mixing and Harry, with his father’s help, cracked in the eggs. At his first successful egg crack, Harry turned his face up toward his father, grinning with pride and excitement. In that moment, Regulus wondered, as he so often did, how he had gotten so damn lucky. How, after making the worst decisions for eighteen years, had he found himself here, with his son, making a birthday breakfast for his husband and using the muggle methods preferred by his son’s fantastic mothers. Regulus’s thoughts drifted briefly, shifting to reminders of how he doesn’t deserve this, how he’s not a good enough person for them, how… He shook his head, reaching out to steady the bowl as Harry mixed in the eggs. Deserve it or not, good enough or not, he was here. And he knew he would do anything and everything for these people.
Batter mixed, Regulus turned on the stove while Harry moved his stool over. Even with the stool, Harry found it a bit difficult to ladle the batter into the pan. Regulus offered to lift him up, and Harry nearly jumped into his arms.
“Careful near the stove, little one!” Regulus chided gently as he rearranged Harry in his arms. Harry offered a grin that was at once both apologetic and mischievous- another James-ism- before turning his attention back to the stove. Together they poured the batter into circles of varying sizes, per Harry’s guidance. After a few minutes, Harry dropped on the chocolate chips Regulus provided then reached into the chocolate bag to double the amount of chocolate in the pancakes.
“These are chocolate pampates” Harry explained, “they need lotsa chocolate.” Regulus, watching the chocolate spilling over the sides of the pancakes and onto the pan, smiled slightly as he nodded.
Once all the pancakes (or, more aptly, the pancake-inspired chocolate mounds) had cooked, Regulus wiped down the pan and added olive oil. He then removed six eggs from the carton and placed them on the counter by Harry. His son looked up at him in shocked wonder. “Do I get to crack ALL of these?” Harry asked, running his hand over the eggs.
As much fun as Harry had found the pancake-making, the scrambled eggs quickly became his favorite part. Together they cracked and whisked the eggs, poured them in the pan, and stirred, watching as they turned from liquid to solid. “See?” Harry said, pointing to the eggs and looking up at his father, “these eggs did magic all on their own! They were gooey slime and now they are delicious food!” Again Regulus felt the full weight of his love for this child and for his family. “You made the eggs do magic,” he responded, making Harry’s face light up.
“And now we can take the food to daddy!” Harry said excitedly as he hurried to grab a plate. Regulus stayed his movements, smiling down as he did so. The clock only read 6:10, and he figured James would appreciate at least another hour’s rest.
“How would you feel about letting daddy sleep for a little bit longer. Perhaps you would like to watch a cartoon?” Harry, who had seemed slightly disappointed at the idea of not delivering the breakfast feast straightaway, brightened up again at the idea of cartoons. He scurried into the next room, and seconds later Regulus could hear a theme song playing.
After putting the kettle on, Regulus began cleaning up the mess in the kitchen. There was quite a substantial mess, and Regulus knew he could do it quicker with magic, but he had found he sort of enjoyed doing the dishes by hand. As he worked the pan under hot, soapy water, the faint sounds of a children’s cartoon and his child’s laughter trickled into the kitchen.
Dishes washed, kitchen cleaned, food covered, Regulus made his way into the living room to find the telly on and Harry fast asleep on the sofa. Regulus picked up a nearby blanket and placed it carefully over Harry, tucking in the sides. Brushing a few stray hairs from the boy’s forehead, and smiling as they fell almost immediately back into disarray, Regulus placed himself on the sofa next to Harry. Carefully, so as not to wake the sleeping child, Regulus retrieved his book from the end table. In that moment, the quiet stillness of early dawn hanging in the air and his son’s soft, steady breathing filling the room, Regulus felt a profound peace wash over him.
This peace lasted a little over an hour, broken by James’ heavy footfall on the stairs. The noise roused Harry from his slumber just as James rounded the corner into the kitchen. The boy’s limbs and lungs leapt into action, racing toward his father and protesting loudly. He reached James and began pulling him by the arm in an attempt to lead him back to bed.
“C’mon daddy you are assposed to be in bed! Let’s go back to there!” Harry said frantically, his distress rising as his father failed to move. Regulus caught James’ confused gaze, taking in his extreme bedhead and sleepy expression. For what felt like the fiftieth time that morning, felt his heart soar in his chest. He nodded to his husband, mouthing “go on” and smiling. James nodded subtly and grinned in return before turning around with a dramatic yawn.
“Oh my goodness!” James exclaimed, arms stretched out wide as he delived another thunderous yawn, “ Harry, I do believe you are right. I am still faaaar too sleepy. Back to bed with me.”
Once James had left, Harry turned back to Regulus, a triumphant expression on his face. “That was close!” Harry said and Regulus fought to conceal a snort of laughter. “Quick Papa, let’s get the food ready!”
As they reheated and plated the food, placing the plates on a tray, Harry turned to his dad, who was startled to see a serious expression on his son’s face. “Papa?”
“Yes, little one?”
“Thank you for helping with the mess this morning. I think it would have been bad without you.”
“Harry…” Regulus started, his voice cracking slightly as he bent down to get eye-level, “I will always, always help you. With little messes and big ones. You have me, and daddy, and mummy and momo. We love all you so very much.”
Harry nodded solemnly, furrowing his brow slightly as he searched his father’s face. After a minute, Regulus smiled, saying in a lighter tone, “and one of those people who loves you is probably pretty hungry.”
At this, Harry scurried to add cutlery to the tray and together they carried it upstairs.
“SURPRISE HAPPY BIRFDAY DADDY!” Harry shouted, jumping onto the bed. James opened his eyes and tackle hugged his son who laughed uncontrollably. Placing the tray carefully next to the bed, Regulus sat down out of reach of the hugging/wrestling. After a moment, however, he felt strong arms wrap around him and draw him into the fray. As Harry wriggled out from his fathers’ clutches, James drew Regulus in for a kiss.
“Hey you two!” Harry called out, “don’t forget me!” and he threw himself into the gap between his parents, accepting kisses from both of them and turning to kiss them each in turn.
About half an hour later, Harry remembered the food and the three of them feasted on very-chocolate pancakes and reheated scrambled eggs. James repeatedly, and very loudly, proclaimed it the finest meal of his life. Surrounded by the love and laughter of his family, Regulus couldn’t help but agree.
AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11740260
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