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Every Flavour Cake

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"I can't believe you're actually making a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean birthday cake for Ginny," Draco said interrupting her thoughts. "All it will take is one bad flavored bean bursting and overpowering all the others and then –"

"Yes, I know, I know you think all cakes should have a certain flavor chosen on purpose – I just don't see it that way!" Hermione was carefully measuring the amount of flour that should be added next. "Anyway, no one is forcing you to eat it!"

"Well, somebody IS forcing me to go to the blasted party. Do you think it is easy to refuse to eat cake in front of a mob of Weasleys?" Secretly Draco also thought that having cake at the ready was a great way to get out of answering questions Molly or Percy asked him that he'd rather avoid. It was an old trick his mother had used during long dinners with boring dignitaries she didn't like.

"Draco, I'm not forcing you to go. Stay home, go to the Leaky Cauldron, play quidditch with Blaise – whatever you like. Just don't complain about the cake if you do come." Hermione blew a stray piece of hair back as the charmed wooden spoon stirred the batter together carefully. "I know you think I shouldn't go around the Weasleys unsupervised for some unknown reason, but that doesn't give you the right to dictate my culinary choices."

Draco pinched his nose, trying to think of a tactful answer. It wasn't that the Weasleys bothered him so much anymore, though it was kind of unnerving to be around so many gingers all at once. He just thought they were a bit high energy for Hermione right now.

"Okay, dear, can we make a compromise on this? Half the cake can be riddled with who knows what flavor and the other half just a plain vanilla? Most of the people at the party won't be nine months pregnant and craving a different flavor cake with each mouthful." He walked up behind her and hugged her middle, fondly rubbing her extended belly. "Besides, you know I just can't stand the thought of you going into labor without me, and Ferret or Scarhead seeing my first born son OW! Or my daughter, before me. Stop kicking me!"

"I'll stop kicking when you stop saying the baby is going to be a boy every time you talk about him or her. I knew we shouldn't have avoided learning the baby's sex. The only compromise I'm willing to make is to let you do your sorting spell on the beans before I add them to get rid of the ones you hate."

Draco beamed at her, satisfied to broker even a small compromise. Ginny had threatened to hex him if he didn't figure out a way to remove the vomit and poo flavored beans at a minimum and she was the second scariest witch he knew after his radiant wife.

"Thanks, darling. You're wonderful!" He said before giving her a kiss behind her ear.

"Oh, really, stop trying to butter me up. I'm not going to let you name any child of mine Corvus or Fornax." She turned around and kissed him on his nose. "You'll just have to find a different constellation that sounds better if you want to keep the silly tradition."