Author's Note: Listen, I've stopped stress-baking because the oven warms the house too much and it wasn't sustainable now that I live with another stress baker. Now, we make jam out of rescued produce when we're anxious. And it takes so much time and stirring power, and my mum helped me how to figure out how to ditch water-bathing yesterday, that this came to mind. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

Warnings: NA

Stacked with: MC4A; Shipping Wars; Hogwarts

Individual Challenge(s): Gryffindor MC (x2); Fall Leaves; Seeds; Ways to the Heart; Golden Times; Old Shoes; Themes & Things A (Family); Themes & Things B (Reunion); Ethnic & Present; Rian-Russo Inversion; In a Flash; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon MC; Two Cakes!

Word count: 1260

Shipping Wars

Ship (Team): Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley (Golden Lion)

List (Prompt): Summer Micro 2 (Berries/Fruit)

Hogwarts Submitting Info

House: Ravenclaw

Assignment: Assignment #2, Task #4 Alt: Write about someone adopted.

Blessings All Around

It must have been quite unusual for Harry Potter not to have anything to do, because he looked quite lost when he shyly knocked at the Burrow door and let himself in, right into the kitchen.

"Good morning Mrs. Weasley," he said. He was wearing casual clothes—an old burgundy sweater she'd made him years ago that was short around the arms, and a pair of well-worn jeans. But he looked stiff and unsure of how to proceed.

"Good morning sweetheart," she said, giving him the best hug that she could without getting her dirty hands on him. "What brings you here, Harry? Always the surprise with you..."

"I—they made a mistake with my schedule at work, so I got the day off today. But Andromeda's got Teddy all day, and Ron's working, and the girls are at school, and I don't have any exams or drills to study for since we finished our second round last week, so… I was wondering if you needed help around the house," he shrugged.

"That's sweet of you," she said, reaching to pat his cheek and then reminding herself of how red and sticky her hands were. "Are you sure you don't want to just take the day to yourself, love?"

Harry shook his head. His eyes looked sunken and tired, and he seemed a tad caught up inside his head—something she had learned over the years often came with the nightmares. She wasn't about to make the poor boy do yard work on his first day off in weeks (and arguably years), but she wasn't about to send him away.

She offered him a smile.

"Well then," she said. "I'm glad you came. I usually do my canning alone because everyone's off to school in the Fall, but I'll be happy to show you how it's done. It's about time I taught one of you lot. Have you ever made jam before, dear?"

He shook his head but immediately rolled up his sleeves.

Molly lead him to the stovetop and explained the basics of it to him before sending him off to chop more strawberries and rhubarb. Harry was good in the kitchen, always happy to help her with meals and he had a good nose for spices. He got through the mountains of fruit quickly enough that she had him chopping apples from the orchard too. She took care of washing the blueberries and chopping up the peaches and pears she'd picked up at the market.

"Do you remember what's next, dear?" Molly asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Put the jars in the stove to sterilize them," Harry recalled.

"That's right," Molly said. "Now here's my trick for it…"

He listened patiently and went through the motions slowly and carefully.

"How's that bowl with all the rhubarb and strawberries looking, sweetheart?" Molly asked him.

"Really mushy," Harry said. "The sugar's dissolved, I think?"

"Perfect," Molly said. "Turn on the element then, and toss them in the pot. We can start cooking the fruit."

Harry nodded and tossed them in. Molly handed him a wooden spoon.

"You'll want to keep stirring until the fruit's dissolved," she said. "That'll keep it from burning."

"I'll try hard not to burn your batch," Harry said.

"It's fine if you do, sweetheart, look at all of the produce we've got to go through," she said, gesturing around the kitchen which was overflowing with fruits. Harry nodded and focused back on his jam. Eventually, steam from the simmering pot fogged up his glasses. Molly smiled as she watched him one-handedly wipe his glasses best as he could, before joining him at the stove to her up her own batch of earl grey blueberry jam—one of Arthur's favourites, which she thought Fleur would quite enjoy as well.

She started stirring and it occurred to Molly that now, for the first time in a very long time, she was alone with Harry, with no chance of distraction or interruption. As an added bonus, he was quite dedicated to his jam at this point and would be unlikely to leave if she brought it up…

"How long have you and Ginny been an item?" she asked as casually as she could manage it. It didn't matter; next to her, Harry stiffened. He turned to look to her, eyes wide, as if she might throw him into the stove and boil him down too.

"I'm asking as her mum, but a little bit as your mum too," Molly told Harry, putting her spare hand on his shoulder. "It's not a situation I anticipated, but I'm not angry."

It took a while for Harry to untense, and swallow.

"I'm... not sure how to answer," Harry said. "I suppose spring of sixth year."

"My," Molly blinked.

"I thought you knew," Harry said. "Everyone else in the Order did—Remus told me you all used to keep an eye on me and all that, and Kingsley teased me a bunch…"

"Well, yes," Molly said. "I suppose that somebody had the tact not to mention it in front of Arthur and I and, well, it must have slipped through the cracks."

"I'm sorry," Harry said earnestly.

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart. My dearest daughter didn't slip me a word of it either," Molly said.

That, she thought, may warrant a Howler…

"I broke it off once Dumbledore died and I knew I'd be hunting Horcruxes," Harry said. Then he got bashful and turned to look at his pot. "If that helps…"

"It doesn't need to help because nothing's the matter, sweetheart," Molly said, touching his arm. "I promise I'm not angry. Believe me: you would know if I was angry."

That made Harry smile. Then he breathed out a sigh of relief, momentarily pausing his stirring. The jam boiled up.

"I was really worried," Harry said. "Because I know that if you didn't approve we'd have dropped everything, but she's one of the only things keeping me sane and happy right now…"

"Why wouldn't I approve?" Molly said. "Of course I'm happy to give you my blessing. Having you around and alive is a blessing—I never forget it, and don't you forget either, sweetheart. Naturally, I'll be keeping a closer eye on sleeping arrangements come Christmas, since you'll obviously be spending the holidays with us, but I want the world for you, and I trust you to know what it is that you want and what will make you happy. And Ginny—well that's a lost cause, I can't tell her to do or not to do anything, but she's the least of my worries with that head on her shoulder."

Harry cracked a smile and looked to his jam and then back at Molly.

"You're okay, sweetheart," Molly said, touching his arm.

"Okay," Harry nodded. "Thanks Mrs. Weasley."

"I think at this point, 'Mrs. Weasley' is a tad tired," Molly said. "Even Fleur calls me 'mum.'"

Harry looked shocked for a second, but then he bit down on his lip and she saw him blinked back tears.

Hands clean, she hugged him for real and held him until she heard the jam bubbling dangerously loudly and they turned back to their pots to go on with the work.

That night, as Bill and Fleur and Arthur enjoyed slices of toast with blueberry jam, Molly wrapped up a jar of strawberry rhubarb jam in brown paper and wrote a quick note.

Dear Ginny,

Please share this with Hermione. Your boyfriend visited and made this, today.

He's a good man. I'm happy to have him around.

Love,

Mum