Well, now, that was jut plain rude. Bloody Phlegm. Ginny wished, not for the first time, that Bill and Fleur never got married.
"That's..." Ginny's mind went through all the words she had for Phlegm, before settling on something, finally, "...unsettling."
She placed her hand on Bill's and squeezed. Perhaps Fleur never got her gift, or perhaps she was the bitchy princess Ginny generally suspected. "We need breakfast. I'm cooking. You relax." Ginny brought all of the tea things over to the table, so Bill could help himself and Ginny would have room to cook. She assembled a mixture of ingredients and leftovers foraged from Bill's refrigerator and set the iron skillet on the stove top.
Between preparations Ginny would step over to Bill's table and take sips of tea. It was one such break when Ginny asked, "Is that the only big fight in a while, or have there been others?" Ginny guessed the answer, but she wanted Bill to tell her.