Neville grinned brightly at the offering she made, taking the plate from her and setting them on the desk beside him. "You didn't have to do that!" he protested, knowing how much she hated the kitchen. She was the woman who had managed to burn water, after all. Or had she let the water boil out and the pot had burnt? Either way, it hadn't ended well. She'd whined about it for weeks!
Reaching up, he absently brushed a patch of flour off of her face and shook his head. "So, how much of the complex kitchen is still standing?" he questioned, a smirk on his face. But that didn't stop him for reaching for a cookie and taking a bite. It wasn't a confident bite. It'd be a lie to say it was. As much as he adored Ginny, she wasn't a cook by any means.
But to his surprise, the cookie didn't taste half bad! It wasn't the most wonderful one he'd ever tasted, but it was good. It was soft and chewy and really pretty good. "They're great!" he assured her, giving her an encouraging smile. She just looked so proud of herself, he couldn't have told her even if they were awful.
Did it really count as his birthday? Again? And if it did, was he nineteen now? Or just eighteen again? But it was really great of Ginny to want to celebrate just so she could be a part of it. Not that she ever had before, really. Neville was used to that, though. It came with having a birthday the day before Harry's.