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Ginny just wanted pumpkin mash.
It had taken over her thoughts. Just picturing it made her feel like she was about to drool. But who was to blame her? She was five months pregnant in October. Pumpkins were bloody everywhere at the moment, and it always made her remember the mash they served at Hogwarts. It was rich and creamy, seasoned with plenty of salt and pepper, and a sprinkling of grated cheese mixed through it.
Morgana, was it ridiculous that she was already edging towards the Floo so she could go have some right away?
Yeah probably, came a voice from the back of her mind. And as much as she hated it, she’d have to agree.
It was lucky then that she’d bought enough pumpkins to make her own mash. She’d just finished up the first batch when Harry apparated into the hallway and met her in the kitchen.
“Hello,” he mumbled against her cheek as he kissed her and let his hands drift over her rounded belly. It was a habit he’d picked up since they’d realised she was pregnant. At first, he would try and hide it, or make an excuse for why he was touching her midriff, but she’d put a stop to that early on, and now he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Unless he clocked onto the fact that she was not in the mood to be touched at all, but that didn’t happen often enough for it to break the habit.
“How was your day?” Ginny asked, spooning the last bit of mash out of the pan and into a storage tub. She had three pumpkins left, but the batch she’d made would tide her over for a day or so. Maybe only one with the cravings she was dealing with.
“Nothing too exciting today actually,” Harry hummed as he wrapped his arms around her middle and stood behind her. “Just a bit of paperwork this time around. How about yours?”
“Got my article finished early, so I made a start on dinner,” Ginny smiled proudly. The sports column in the Daily Prophet was a bit of a surprise, but one impulsive letter to the editor about how Tony Thurnball was talking absolute shit about the Magpies deserving their win over the Arrows had a snowball effect. It certainly kept her busy and happy whilst she was on maternity leave from the Harpies at least. And had managed to serve as a bit of a distraction from the pumpkin cravings. “I don’t care what you had in mind for tonight, as long as I can have this on the side.”
She felt Harry freeze behind her briefly, so she turned around to face him, taking in his tight expression. “We were gonna go over to Ron and Hermione’s for dinner tonight, remember?” he asked her.
“Oh,” Ginny said. That had completely slipped her mind. Stupidly so, seeing as they went round to each other’s for dinner at least once every two weeks. Hermione was also having a bit of quiet downtime in her own job, so they’d seize the moment to plan their dinner again. “I forgot,” she said needlessly.
“We don’t have to go if you don’t feel up to it,” Harry offered with a kind smile. “I’ll Floo them and let them know, and then I’m sure I can find something to rustle up for dinner.”
“No, no, it’s fine!” Ginny reassured him. “We said we’d go, I just forgot that’s all. We can have the mash tomorrow,” she said with a little laugh, but Harry knew her well enough to know that it wasn’t exactly what she wanted.
“We could take it with us?” he suggested, rubbing her upper arm. “I’m sure Ron would be more than happy to have more food round the table.”
Ginny snorted but nodded along anyway. Ron would want more food, but he’d also gained the sense since having several pregnant sisters-in-law to not try and cross them when it came to dinner time. “Ron eats food Hermione made. He’d be happy if we brought three-day old leftovers,” Ginny commented with a sly grin, one she knew Harry found ridiculously attractive.
“All the more reason to bring something nice. Can’t exactly take goblin wine with us anymore,” he retorted back. “Let me change out of this and then we can head off. The quicker we get there, the quicker you can have your mash.” Ginny laughed at his sweet smile, which slowly turned into more of a seductive smirk. “Unless… I can tempt you to join me…”
The suggestion was not an unusual one. They both knew that Harry’s uniform did things to her and they both knew that doing things in his uniform did things for Harry. Ginny had very fond memories of those occasions, times where they didn’t always make it to the bedroom. Most times she would jump at the opportunity. Quite literally on occasion. But the thing was, she really wanted that pumpkin mash.
Ginny’s eyes flickering over the pumpkin mash was answer enough for Harry. He chuckled under his breath, “Fair enough. I’ll be ten minutes.”
-----
Less than 15 minutes later, they were stood in Ron and Hermione’s kitchen and Ginny was delicately handing over the box filled with pumpkin mash. Ron was as happy to have extra food as his best friend and younger sister had thought. “What recipe did you follow?” he asked eagerly as she handed it over to him.
“Hogwarts house elves.”
“With cheese in it?”
“Obviously.”
“I would say you should be pregnant more often so you can bring this instead of wine, but you’re my sister and you’re married to my best friend, so,” Ron shrugged with a grimace on his face.
“Yeah, that seems like a real moral struggle for you,” Harry snarked back playfully just in time before Ginny could retort herself.
“All your two’s fault of course,” he said, reaching into the fridge to grab three butterbeers for them. He opened them all with a flick of his wand and placed them down in front of each of them- two laced with firewhiskey, one non-alcoholic. “Hermione shouldn’t be too long, but dinner is ready, will just need a bit of heating up.”
It was practically music to Ginny’s ears to hear that considering she had already thought about rifling through the cutlery drawer and tucking into the pumpkin mash by herself. They moved into the living room and sat down, Ron in his own armchair and Ginny sharing the loveseat with Harry. At least the thought of his best friend and little sister wasn’t so bad anymore that he didn’t kick up a fuss when Harry put his arm around her. They started to talk, concentrating on the big Quidditch topics before Hermione arrived. It inevitably turned to the state of the League without Ginny there. Ron hoped that it would mean the Canons would have a better chance- “it would take the entire League to be off for the Canons to have a chance,” Ginny scoffed- whilst Harry balanced the line between saying that Ginny was obviously and sorely missed, and that the Harpies were still good enough to be contenders.
Ginny smiled at him sweetly and squeezed his knee. “Whipped,” Ron coughed under his breath, breaking up the little moment. Ginny glared at him fiercely and Harry rolled his eyes, but the sound of the Floo flaring signalled Hermione’s arrival. A big smile bloomed across Ron’s face and he stood up with a start, rushing to the kitchen.
“And you say Harry’s whipped,” Ginny called out to Ron’s back, but he only held up in middle finger in response, without evening breaking stride. Harry snorted next to her, before going to greet Hermione as well and only slightly hovering to see if she needed help.
(She didn’t quite yet, but it probably wouldn’t be long. Especially with the amount of mash she planned on eating.)
In the time it took Ginny and Harry to make their way to the table, they could hear Hermione and Ron’s mumbled greeting to each other, followed by a prolonged silence. Ginny rose her eyebrows at Harry and got an eyeroll back. Ron would get angry at them for kissing but was just as bad with Hermione. Whatever they were doing was obviously worse than a typical ‘hello again, how was your day?’ kiss, because a massive crash came from the kitchen. Their hands snapped over in that direction.
“Everything okay in there?” Harry called out.
“Yeah!” came Ron’s slightly nervous shout back. “Everything’s fine! I’ll bring the food in now.”
Hermione walked in, a pale red blush gracing her cheeks as she resolutely looked at them confidently. “Hello! How are you both?”
With smirks on their faces, Harry and Ginny answered, starting up the usual conversations and taking their seats. Ron soon walked in, slightly less embarrassed than Hermione, though he seemed anxious for some reason. He kept his eyes on the table and gripped the plates of food with a force that could break goblin-wrought silver. He placed the beef stew in the middle of the table and flicked his wand so that the various side dishes that were following him, floating their way through the air, would join it.
Ron really had inherited Mum’s cooking skills far more than Ginny ever had. It all smelt amazing and practically had her drooling at the mere sight of it. She could taste it already. The tender beef and soft vegetables which would have been stewing for the better part of the day. The green beans dripping in butter and lemon juice. The piping hot fresh bread rolls, practically begging for butter to be slathered all over them. It looked absolutely perfect as everyone carried on their conversations and started to plate up.
Ginny was reaching for a second bread roll to add to her plate when she realised. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
“Where’s the pumpkin mash?” she asked suddenly. Three heads swivelled to look at her quickly but said nothing, as if trying to process what she was asking. It’s not a hard question, she thought. “Where’s the pumpkin mash?” she repeated.
“I didn’t realise we were having pumpkin mash,” Hermione said, looking at Ron for confirmation. He’d already managed to stuff his mouth full of food and his eyes were wide like he had been caught in the middle of something.
“Ummm,” he hesitated before swallowing and clearing his throat. “I… I… I didn’t think we needed it.”
Ginny’s eyes narrowed in on her brother, making him shrink in his seat. “Liar,” she snapped fiercely. “Where is it?” She went to stand up suddenly from the table, only for Harry to catch her by the arm. She turned her glare onto him, though he handled it far better than Ron. “Do you know what’s happened to it?” she questioned him.
“No idea,” he admitted. There was a beat, where she assessed him. He was telling the truth. “I can bring it over to you though.”
She reluctantly lowered herself back into her chair and watched Harry stand up. “Where did you put it?” he asked on his way to the kitchen.
“Ummm.” Ron’s eyes flickered back and forth between Harry and Hermione, avoiding Ginny completely. That set her on edge. What had he done to her bloody mash?
“Ron,” she growled. She knew that look. She’d seen it so many times growing up. It always appeared when he knew he was about to get into trouble. He’d cocked something up royally, and there was no fixing it.
“Well, you see, Ginny” Ron gulped nervously. “My lovely sister, one of the greatest Quidditch players to play in the League, amazing… duellist. Did I say how radiant you look today?”
“Cut the shit you prat.” Harry was still lingering in the doorway and Hermione had wrapped her hand around her wand tentatively. Thinking that was a good idea, Ginny gripped onto her wand as well. Ron’s eyes instantly bulged. She could already see the bats that were about to fly out of his nose.
“Look, I’m sorry okay! It was an accident,” he cried, holding his hands up above his head. Surrendering would do nothing for him now.
“What did you do?!” Ron ducked his head and mumbled. “Speak up!” Ginny shrieked, lifting her wand up and pointing it directly at her brother.
“Iknockeditintothebin,” he said in one big rush.
It took a moment for the words to process in Ginny’s head, but once they did, she felt the anger bubble in her stomach grow fiercer and fiercer. Her pumpkin mash? In the bin? After all that time she’d been waiting to have some, all the work she put into making it, giving up eating it at home because she and Harry already had plans. And now it was in the bin?
“It was an accident! I swear! I put it on the side and then Hermione got home and we were… well… we were saying hello and before I knew it Hermione was next to the kitchen countertop and it went falling into the bin.”
Ginny felt tears burn behind her eyes, part fury, part agony. Her brother fancied a snog and that meant she was now bereaved of her pumpkin mash. Thrown away like mouldy cheese, or out-of-date meat. Ruined.
Though perhaps… some cleaning spells would work right? Even if it had fallen out of the bowl and into the bin itself, that’s what charms were for! This was a completely rational decision.
…
Oh, Merlin’s bread, what was happening to her? Was she really thinking about eating out of a bin? Her Mum had warned her about baby brain, but she didn’t think it would get to this.
Ginny shook her head, blinked away the foreboding tears in her eyes and squared her shoulders. “Doesn’t matter,” she said resolutely. “I can have some another time. The food looks great Ron.”
Everyone looked at her warily, so she sat herself back down and picked up her knife and fork. Harry finally walked back to his own seat once she started to tuck in and eat. His hand landed on her knee and squeezed it lightly. Are you okay?, it seemed to ask. Ginny reached down to squeeze back: I’m fine, she replied.
Ron kept on nervously looking at her every once in a while, but the tension in the room slowly eased out of the room. Conversation flowed between them again, with Hermione ranting about another archaic law she had set about undoing and Ron describing some of the products in development at Weasley Wizard’s Wheezes.
It didn’t take long for the food to disappear, especially when there were two Weasleys at the table- one of which was pregnant, and the other one was Ron. It was good. Just as good as it looked.
But it just wasn’t pumpkin mash.
-----
One of the reasons Ginny couldn’t wait to be done with pregnancy- besides being able to see her baby, of course- was so a dinner at a friend’s would no longer knock her out like a bludger. She trudged her way out of the living room Floo into the kitchen once they got home, dropping down into a chair by the kitchen table with a thud. She sighed heavily and threw her head back, her eyes closed. She was exhausted.
It was only a noise to her left that forced her eyes open. Harry had placed a glass of apple juice on the table next to her and smiled. She responded with her own grateful smile and sigh, but only after she’d down the entire glass. Harry chuckled and sat beside her, grasping onto her hand. “Little one wearing you out?” he asked, a happy glint lighting up his eyes. She didn’t know if she would ever get tired of it.
Ginny shrugged her shoulders exaggeratedly, earning herself another chuckle from Harry. “Ron’s company always has made me feel sleepy,” she joked. “If we were having dinner with Percy though, I reckon I would be fast a-”
She stopped suddenly, her eyes latching on to something else in the kitchen.
Harry’s face instantly grew worried. “Gin? What’s up?” He followed her line of sight and landed on what she had been looking at. The leftover pumpkins, just ready and waiting to be cooked and mashed. Mixed with cheese. Seasoned with plenty of salt and pepper. “Oh,” Harry said dumbly.
Ginny promptly burst into tears.
“Ah!” Harry cried out at the noise, shuffling forward to wrap his arms around her. She cried into his shirt, sobbing like she was Victoire at bath time.
“I just want pumpkin mash!” Her voice shuddered with each word as she spoke. “This baby just wants pumpkin mash. It’s all they’ve wanted for weeks. And I can’t have any because Ron was gagging for it and my mash ended up in the bin!”
Harry snorted at her quip, but quickly grew sombre at Ginny’s glare when she lifted her head. “Naughty baby. Naughty Ron,” he said seriously.
“Ugh, God,” Ginny groaned as she wiped away the tears on her cheeks, even though they continued to pour. “This is so stupid. It’s just mash, I have no idea why I’m crying over this. I hate crying.”
“It’s not stupid. You’re growing a baby, and if you want pumpkin mash, then you should have pumpkin mash,” Harry said simply. He stood up, and Ginny had an unexplainable need to pull him back to her and cling on. But he was out of reach before the thought fully formed in her head, and he stopped next to the pumpkins. He took his wand out of his pocket and charmed the knife she had used earlier to start peeling and chopping away at the pumpkins. At the same time, he pulled out the cheese and the cream, filled a pan with boiling hot water and set it on the stove. “Do you want anything else in the meantime? It may not be pumpkin mash, but it might tide you over for half an hour or so.”
Ginny blinked at him, watching closely as he dropped the pumpkin chunks into the pan of water and started to shred the cheese. She’d watched him cook for her many times, considering he was the one who did most of the cooking between them. Hell, he’d made her eggs, bacon, and toast that very morning. But it had never filled her with such body-numbing joy before.
She was up and across the kitchen before Harry could realise and wrapped her arms around his middle. He quickly returned the hug, placing a kiss on the top of her head, which only made the tears pooling in her eyes escape down her face once again. “Love you,” she mumbled against his chest.
“Love you too,” he replied, and she could hear the smile in his voice, feel every ounce of his care for her and their baby in the tightening of his arms around her.
She waited as patiently as she could over the next half an hour, eating four digestive biscuits in the meantime, but mostly just happy to watch him shuffle around their kitchen. They talked about their plans for the next few days, what colour they should paint the baby’s room, how many baby boots Mum would have knitted for them by the time their baby arrived. It was calm and comforting.
The drool was close to dripping out her mouth when Harry spooned a large helping of pumpkin mash into the bowl. Her eyes burned from the tears that had finally ceased and her cheeks were a flaming red, but it didn’t matter anymore. She could even potentially forgive Ron for his whole role in her breakdown. Maybe it was the fact that Harry had made it, or the fact that she had waited so long to eat it, or perhaps simply because it was nearly midnight, but it smelt even better than before.
Ginny lifted her first spoonful hesitantly and took a bite. The minute it hit her tastebuds, she was hooked. It was just as creamy as she’d wanted, perfectly seasoned, with just the right amount of cheese so it didn’t overpower the pumpkin. It was everything she wanted and more, and her first bowl was gone within minutes.
“Better?” Harry smiled once her spoon clattered into the empty bowl.
A single tear made its way down her face, but he caught it before it could go any lower than her nose. “Yeah,” she whispered, leaning into his touch. “Lots better now.” Harry went to say something, but she cut him before she could help it. “Although… it would be even better again if I had some more pumpkin mash.”
He laughed and patted her hand. “As you wish,” he took her bowl, refilled it, and placed it down again in front of her. “As much as you ever want. You or our baby.”
“You may end up regretting that,” she winked, and she started in on her second bowl.