"I'm coming with you to find one," Ginny announced firmly over breakfast.
They were staying in a tiny old stone cottage in Scotland for the Christmas holidays -- a kind of belated honeymoon, since Ginny's Quidditch schedule had prevented them from taking one immediately after their wedding -- and Neville had suggested that the outsized fireplace would be perfect for a proper Yule log.
He knew better than to argue with her. True, it would be cold and wet out in the woods, but Ginny would point out that she flew in worse conditions all the time. It would be easier to bring the log back if the two of them did it together, too. They would have to coordinate their levitation charms, but that would still be easier than Neville doing it solo; he tended to lose control of large objects, as demonstrated by the disaster with the sofa they had bought for their flat.
Tramping around searching for the perfect Yule log with Ginny was fun. They wanted something already fallen -- "It would be a shame to cut down a tree in its prime," Neville pointed out -- but not too wet or rotten.
At last they found a log that they could both agree on, and with some effort brought it back to the cottage. Ginny knew a spell that dried the wood out sufficiently to let it catch fire, and they snuggled in front of the blaze with mugs of hot spiced pumpkin juice, talking softly together of their dreams for the future.