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Remus woke up to something thick and syrupy and burning.
His mum must have tried to make the breakfast.
Sydney's hand was still fitted loosely into his, and Remus had to carefully move her arm off of him in order to wiggle out of bed. He kissed her sleeping forehead and crept around the mattress on the floor and out the door.
There was a lingering feeling of smoke downstairs. None was visible, but Remus could just tell that something had gone wrong. This sense was justified when he stepped into the kitchen, and his mum – wearing a white chef's hat that they'd had for ages – had her back turned to a pan full of blackened bread.
"Aw, what have you done?" Remus asked, crossing the room quickly and flipping off the stove.
"What are you doing awake already?" Remus's mum asked. "This was meant to be a surprise."
Remus scoffed as he scraped the poor excuse for French toast onto a plate. (They belonged in the bin, to be honest, but there were only two pieces of bread left to use).
"It would be a surprise when Syd and I fell dead from this rubbish, wouldn't it?" Remus said.
"Well, just do it yourself then," Remus's mum huffed. "But you've got to wear the chef's hat."
"Gladly," Remus said, pulling the hat from his mum's head and putting it on his own.
Remus flipped open the carton of eggs, resolving to restart the whole process again and spare any chances. He had just started to whisk them when an awful and traumatic song started playing from behind him. He turned to find his mum at the island with her chin in her hand.
"I really can't stay..." she mumbled with the song, tracing circles on the counter and looking off into space in a falsely distracted way.
"You're not really doing this, are you?" Remus asked as he pulled out fresh bread slices. His mum looked at him briefly before turning away again.
"I gotta go away..."
"Mum, I was like eight when you put me in that Christmas play. Please stop bringing it up again."
"But you were so cute!" His mum insisted. "You had the little antlers and everything!"
Remus rolled his head back at the recurring embarrassment. He had been forced into the school play. It was ridiculous. He wore phony antlers and a stupid reindeer costume and sang Baby it's Cold Outside with Beverly Williams and the photographs had ended up on his mother's Christmas card which she sent to half of the bloody world.
"You can help with breakfast if you stop," Remus pleaded. His mum grinned and stood from her chair.
"I ought to say no, no, no sir," she sang cheekily as she passed him.
"Forget it," Remus said, putting down the eggs. "Get away from the toast."
He walked over to the stove and waved her aside so he could flip it himself. Remus's mum laughed as she disappeared from his side to finally turn down the song.
