Written for THC Round 2
House: Hufflepuff
Class: Astronomy
Drabble
Prompt: [Food] Bowl of soup
Word Count: 521
"I want soup!" Hermione declared one day. The Golden Trio had been lounging at Grimmauld Place enjoying a quiet evening together. It had become a rare occurrence; usually there were other people around that made it impossible to just spend time alone together.
"Soup? But— but can't we have something more filling 'Mione, I'm hungry," whined Ron from his side on the couch.
"But soup is so good. I know, we can have onion soup." Hermione was pregnant and with pregnancy came some weird cravings. She was never a soup lover and wasn't sure why she wanted some now, but she did.
"No way! Come on 'Mione you know I hate onions!" Ron exclaimed. He loved his wife, he did, but he hated onions.
"Harry! You want soup too, right? I know you do!" Harry felt like a deer caught in headlights, he really didn't want to get in the middle of this one. Hermione's hormones had been going crazy and she was prone to fits of anger or crying. And he really didn't like to see her crying.
"Yeah, I like soup," he said resolutely. Ron groaned, knowing that he had probably lost this fight.
"Can we at least get some sandwiches too, and some chips," he said resolutely. Hermione squealed and threw her hands up in victory.
"Fries with chocolate topping!" she announced, making the other two occupants of the room shake their heads in disgust.
"Sure, whatever you want, love. Can one of you order? I still don't get the telly thing; how can they hear you if you don't shout!" The other two chuckled, and Harry got up to order.
When the food got there, Hermione enthusiastically took hold of the bowl of soup. She cast a warming charm on it and opened the lid. As soon as the lid was off, the smell of onions filled her nose. Her stomach stirred at the smell, a heavy feeling settling over it. The nausea followed soon after, she tried to take a few deep breaths to attempt to settle her stomach but that turned out to be the wrong thing to do. The smell invaded her nostril more and she couldn't hold it in anymore.
Passing the soup to Ron, she jumped up and made her way to the loo.
"Soup, pftt… I wish she had let me order some steak instead," Ron grumbled.
"At least we have some sandwiches, do you think she'll eat some?" questioned Harry, worry clear in his voice.
"I hope she does, she hasn't been able to hold much down the last few days."
When Hermione returned, she slumped down next to her husband and laid her head on his shoulder; he kissed her forehead lovingly.
"You okay, love?" he asked her, knowing full well that she hated getting sick.
"Fine," she mumbled, closing her eyes and waiting for her stomach to settle.
"So, no soup for dinner, then?" Harry asked, not expecting a pillow to appear out of thin air and slam into him.
"Shut it, Harry Potter," she shouted. Hermione was definitely not having soup, though, fries and chocolate would do.