A/N: So… I wrote a thing. I've barely done much writing before and what I have done is super short and unfinished. When I started this, I was expecting it to be the same. But while it's still a smol little thing, it's bigger than I thought it'd be, and hey, it's finished.

Huge thanks to gryffindormischief for editing it and encouraging me to post it! I wasn't really sure about it, but her edits helped a ton. You can also thank her for the title.

Let me know what you think!

"What is… that?"

Harry tried to shift his tone to sound more curious than judgemental, but by the sheepish look on Ginny's face, his attempt started too late in the sentence.

"I… don't know?"

"You don't know?"

He toed off his shoes and made his way further into the kitchen where he proceeded to poke suspiciously at the plated lump. It jiggled.

"Well, there's not really a name for it. I didn't really use a recipe, you see… I was experimenting. It's loosely based on a flan—"

"—loosely based?"

"I don't know, inspired! But it's not… flan enough to be a flan."

He quirked a brow at her, "Right."

"Do you want to try some?"

Looking at it again, he could've sworn it had sagged another centimeter since he'd arrived.

Harry prodded it one more time, contemplating the likelihood that Ginny had somehow managed to turn her faux flan into a living being.

After a moment, he glances back at her, "Do I want to eat it?"

She stuck out her tongue.

"I haven't tasted it yet, but I'm sure it'll be fine," Ginny said, retrieving some silverware from a drawer and carefully moving It from the counter to the table.

Harry sat down and, never being a particularly picky eater, took a scoop, which only collapsed the sad 'flan inspired' thing further.

Ginny stared expectantly while Harry pulled the best, most dramatic stink face he could manage, before sagging into the chair opposite him with a sigh, "That bad?"

Harry dropped the act immediately at her dejection and laughed, "Nah, I'm playing with you. It's actually pretty good! Here, try some," he said, offering her a scoop as she sent him a weak glare, "What is that, almond? It's a nice touch."

"You're just trying to make me feel better," she muttered before accepting the offered spoon.

"Well, yes. But that doesn't mean I was lying," he grinned, lightly poking at the corner of her mouth until she gave in and sent him a small smile. She picked up her own spoon and took another bite.

Harry nudged her socked foot with his own, "See? I told you it was good. So what prompted you to start ah… experimenting?"

"Fleur has been trying to get me to branch out," Ginny answers with a shrug, licking her spoon clean with relish.

"Branch out? You haven't even gotten English food down," he said, earning him a swift kick under the table.

"Anyway, I figured I'd browse through some books to get some ideas. Just figure out what tends to go in different stuff, what results you get with different ratios of ingredients, things like that."

"Is that what that is?" Harry said, looking at the piles of books and magazines scattered on the counters and bar stools. It was starting to look scarily like Hermione's collection.

Harry's gaze darted to hers,"You're not going to set up a new library in the kitchen, are you?"

Rolling her eyes, Ginny dropped back in her chair, "I borrowed a couple of them from mum, picked up a couple others that caught my eye while I was in Diagon Alley last. I put tabs on a few things that looked fun. We should make them sometime."

"Sounds good. Teddy's probably coming over tomorrow, he can help too."

"Wait, so you don't trust me in your kitchen, but you'll gladly invite your 3-year-old godson over to 'help'?"

He shifted slightly to ensure the safety of his shins.

"I trust you, I just prefer to be… present."

"Is this about the toaster? It was one time."

He eyed her skeptically, "I'm not entirely convinced the explosion would've happened if I had been there."

She ignored him, "Besides, it's not like I'm not messing with silly muggle appliances anymore. I mean, that thing had an awful amount of buttons and knobs for something that's just made to toast bread."

He chuckled and a comfortable silence settled over them for a moment.

It was when she finished scraping the last of the 'flan' from the plate that she spoke again, tracing circles with her index finger along the back of Harry's hand, "I love you."

Harry smiled, soft and content. She'd been saying it abruptly in conversations for the past month, trying to catch him off guard.

She had, for the most part, stopped getting angry with how surprised he often was, and would just watch him instead, as the warmth spread to his face and in his eyes, where it would linger for the next hour at least.

He picked up her hand and pressed it to his lips.

"Love you too."