Ginny hummed as she worked. It was nearly Christmas and for the first time she was in charge of doing a dinner. She'd had to wrest control out of Molly's hands, but she had finally won the concession that she could do the lunch. She had a long list of requirements sitting on the bench in front of her; while she had rolled her eyes as Molly had generated the exhaustive group of holiday dos and don'ts, Ginny knew her cooking reputation was riding on this lunch and was determined to do it perfectly. The last item on the list always made her eyes narrow when she looked at it, however. In what universe was it okay to ban sweet potato?
The next day, Ginny smiled as she presided over her heavily-stocked dinner table. All was done to Molly's satisfaction, and hearing her mother's praise made Ginny's heart swell. She squeezed Harry's hand. He leaned over to her, under cover of her mother's rapturous exclamations, and whispered, 'Are you going to tell her about the one sweet potato you mixed into the rest of the mash?' he asked.
Grinning, Ginny shook her head. 'Why spoil the moment?' she whispered back.