HP through the autumn

One Christmas morning after the Potters got married.

Qiu woke up from sleep, reached out and groped around for a long time, only to find that Harry next to him had already woken up.

You can faintly hear the sound of oil sizzling outside the bedroom, as well as the sound of turning the spatula.

She rubbed it on the pillow reluctantly, lay down for a few more minutes before opening her eyes, got up and went to the bathroom to wash up.

While brushing her teeth, she smelled a smell of food wafting in from outside the bedroom, which should not smell burnt.

The soup was gurgling and boiling, and the spatula was shoveling back and forth on the pot, constantly colliding with the pot.

She walked into the kitchen with her slippers on, and Harry concentrated on directing the spatula to cook for himself amidst the noise, and didn't notice her walking into the kitchen.

Today he was wearing the dark red sweater Mrs Weasley had just sent him for Christmas.She didn't need to look to know that there must be another big 'H' embroidered on the front.

She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, secretly put her freshly washed hands into the sweater, and pressed them against his warm skin.

Harry shivered from the ice, and she sneered behind her back, rubbing her face against the soft sweater, then pulled her hand out and hugged him through the sweater.

"Why did you think of making breakfast today? You never got up so early before."

"Today is Christmas."

"so?"

"So I want to surprise you."

"Actually, you can make breakfast every day."

"That wouldn't be a surprise, would it?" Harry began to quibble.

She pinched his waist through the sweater.

"No, no, no, I'm still cooking. I'll burn your Christmas breakfast in a while and it will be gone."

"The spatula will cook well by itself."

"But I want to control the spatula." He said solemnly, "What if it flies into the soup by itself?"

"Then concentrate on making breakfast. I'll go see how the weather is today." She let go of her hand around his waist and walked to the window.

This Christmas it snowed again, and it was white outside, and there were a few children from neighbors playing in the snow.

Harry came up from behind and stood with her at the window watching the snow fall.

"Why don't you control the spatula?" She poked him in the stomach and asked him.

"The spatula can cook well by itself." Harry looked at her innocently.

"What if it flies into the soup by itself?"

"Then fish it out."

He said indifferently, stretched out his hand and pulled her into his arms, and the two hugged each other warmly, watching the heavy snow outside the window dye everything white.

The author has something to say:

Tonight, on Christmas Eve, a small episode will be randomly dropped

I'll be back in a month hehehe