Hermione stared at the table before her – laden with so many delicious elf-made options – and groaned, slumping down in her chair. It was Boxing Day, and she hadn't even bothered dragging herself out of bed for breakfast – she had been gestating a food-baby by the time she had left the Weasleys" at just past midnight, and this morning her jeans had actually been a smidgen tight. It had been a wonderful Christmas, but Hermione thought she was ruined for food for at least a week. She still felt full. Wrinkling her nose up, Hermione scooped some salad and a lightly battered fillet of fish onto her plate, and sat and stared blankly at it for a moment.