A Matter Of Batter
Author's Note: Originally published on August 28, 2010
Ron padded into the kitchen, his eyes still half-closed from sleep. It was his long, freckled nose that had led him out of bed, drawn by the delicious odours wafting through the air. Cozying up behind his beautiful wife, he wrapped his arms around her waist and dropped a quick peck on her cheek.
"Morning, love."
She turned and greeted him with a much longer kiss.
"Mmmm. Good morning, Ron."
He grinned, now fully awake, and pressed his lips to hers once more. "It sure is."
"You're up early."
"It smells so good, Hermione; I couldn't help but follow the scent."
He surreptitiously glanced at the mixing bowl behind her. "It's irresistible... just like you."
She rolled her eyes, but her eyelids fluttered to a close as he leaned in again. A second later, her hand shot out and smacked him on the wrist, preventing his not-so-subtle attempt to sample the cake batter.
"Bloody hell!"
She opened her eyes and was greeted with a look of both awe and disappointment. She kissed away his pout before handing him the batter-slathered wooden spoon. His eyes lit up, and she laughed at the pleased expression on his face as he savoured the creamy mixture.
"You'd better enjoy it, you're not getting any more until tonight."
"But, Hermione..."
"There are fresh scones on the countertop and biscuits in the oven."
Ron's cheeks were already bulging as he grabbed some dishes and began setting the table for breakfast, leaving a trail of crumbs in his wake.
"You're making a mess."
He shrugged his shoulders apologetically, his mouth still stuffed. She couldn't stay upset, as he looked too adorable with his haphazard, slumber-shaped hair. With a quick wand movement, the crumbs vanished, and she went back to the task at hand—gingerly pouring the batter into a glass baking dish.
As he swallowed the scrumptious scone, Ron watched in fascination as his wife laid a towel on the floor, before sitting down with the dish and banging it repeatedly against the cloth-covered spot.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting the air out, so that when the cake bakes, there aren't any holes on the inside."
"My mum knows some charm or another for that."
"I wanted to do it all by hand, just like my mum. I thought it would be nice, considering it's for their anniversary."
A quick flicker of doubt crossed her face before she stood up and set the dish down in front of her. "I just hope it turns out as good as my mum's."
Ron put down the scone he was smothering with preserves for his wife and stood up, making his way to her.
"It'll be fine, Hermione. Besides, they'll be touched you went to so much trouble."
"You think so?"
"Of course!"
He moved to pull her into a hug, and she melted into his arms.
"Ron," she mumbled into his shoulder.
"Yes?"
"If your finger gets any closer to that baking dish, I'm going to hex it off!"