There was an empty house where a family used to live. There was no tree, no lights, no ridiculous wreath with little candy canes that her father hated but hung every year. Not this year.

Hermione Granger thought about the empty house on the street where people she’d known her whole life were still celebrating the Christmas season. She hated this tent, and she couldn’t help but realize that Christmas was another thing Voldemort had stolen from them.

She closed her eyes, and she could see that street in lights, and it brought her a different kind of comfort. Home.

Canon Drabble
Down Under - Men at Work

Ron almost gagged, and all his brother could do was laugh at him.
“Go on then, YOU try some,” Ron snapped at George, who had dared him to dip his finger into the vegemite jar. Eugh, it was a bitter, salty, yeast paste. What could be desirable about that?
“Okay,” George said, scooping a big dollop from the jar.
Ron stared at him in horror. “It’s vegemite you prat, not Nutella!”
George smirked and shoved the spoon into his mouth, then started to chew the blob of vegemite. A second later, he spat the soggy brown blob onto the table.