When: Tuesday, November 25th, 1997, Late at night
Where: Gryffindor Common Room in front of the large fireplace
Who: Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom
What: Sleepover! But without hair braiding, face masks, and Truth or Dare. Possibly with gossip and squealing. But very masculine squealing on behalf of Neville, natch.
Status: In progresivo
Rating: Fun for all
Ginny frowned at her stick, two sad lumps of marshmallow still wedged there. In actuality, she had never made S'mores in her life, they had always been made
for her, and usually magically--when her father wanted to do it the "real way," he'd be the one futzing with the idiot stick himself while she played Quidditch with her brothers. This rustic, Muggle-ish way of toasting marshmallows was frustrating at best. Whenever she tried to pull them off, the charcoal-like outer skin slid off, and the marshmallow left behind still felt uncooked!
With an annoyed grunt, she took them off of the stick and grabbed her wand, charming them toasted all the way through. Sheepishly, she grinned at Neville as she reached for a graham cracker and square of chocolate. "I got a bit frustrated," she admitted with a guilty shrug. "But come on! They're not as good when they're cold!"
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