Ever since moving out of her father's home Luna had missed the pleasant ritual of cooking others. She attributed the gratification it yielded to the way it hearkened back to helping her mother cook as a young child.
"Oh it's hardly anything," she insisted with a flutter wave of her hand. "You just keep popping things in until it's delicious."
Well, she supposed that wasn't entirely true. Once you put a certain amount of scullykelp into a pot there was no coming back from that. And sometimes teaching Ginny how flavors went together was about as tricky as helping her with potions. Not that this was to be held against her- Ginny was one of her favorite people. She was honest and kind, and managed an excitement that Luna's serenity found energizing and refreshing. If Ginny stopped by for dinner, Luna was certain she would reveal what had been bothering her.
"Well if you find yourself short on food, it'll probably be finished around 8," Luna mentioned with a small shrug. She didn't want Ginny to feel obligated, and she knew she was partial to taking her meals later than most.