Cauldron Cakes

By MD1016

"Two cauldron cakes, please," Ron ordered.  He'd worked two weeks for that pocket money, helping his mum with the laundry.  It had been the first time he'd actually taken on extra chores with the intent of buying something specific for someone else.   

He sat back down in the train compartment, treats in hand; Harry happily chomping away on a licorice wand, and Ginny beside him flipping through some ratty old diary. 

"Unbelievable," Hermione said, scowling at The Daily Prophet open on her lap.  "It's as if they've never heard of journalistic integrity!" 

"I don't know why you read that," Ron said.  "It always upsets you." 

"Because we have to know what's happening in the world," Hermione insisted. 

"Or what's not happening." Ron quipped. 

"And people pay to read this rubbish!" she said. 

"You nicked that, did you?" Ron challenged. 

Hermione rolled her eyes.  "Well, I had to buy it, didn't I?  I mean, one of us has to know what they're saying about Harry!" 

"No we don't," Harry grumbled. 

"Eat your Cauldron Cake," Ron said, holding out the sweet.   

"No thanks." 

He'd thought it out so carefully: earn the money, get the cake, get her distracted, and give it to her.  Why wouldn't she want it?  Why wouldn't anyone want a Cauldron Cake?  His arm was frozen in mid-air. 

"No?" he croaked.   

She was looking at Ginny with a bewildered expression, but when he turned to his sister she was feigning interest in her diary.  Harry, though, was staring at Ron with an odd expression.  Ron felt his face go hot. 

"Uh…"  Hermione turned and looked at him with much the same look on her face as Harry.  "Thank you, Ron."  She took the cake from him, and gave him a smile in return. 

"You're welcome," he mumbled, dancing inside.