harry potter the burrow

Imagine twelve year old Harry not even knowing how awful his childhood with Dursleys had been until he gets to the Burrow.

Imagine him seeing Percy asleep with a book on his lap, and being baffled that a kid might feel comfortable enough in his own home to be so vulnerable in the living room. 

Imagine Molly coming up to the attic to say goodnight to Ron and Harry, and Harry glancing at Ron when he hears her footsteps, trying to figure out what they had done wrong that day.

Imagine him asking George who does all the house chores, and thinking it’s a joke when George answers, “we all do.” 

Imagine Ginny pestering Arthur with questions over the Daily Prophet, and Harry trying to shoot her warning looks to stop it! but then Mr. Weasley looks up and patiently answers every single one. 

Imagine Bill popping in for a visit one evening and Harry being floored when Bill stops to chat with him. 

Imagine Fred chasing after Harry in the yard, playfighting, but Harry actually begins to run for real fear of being hurt. 

Imagine Molly burning something on the stove my accident and tossing it, imagine Harry mentioning to Ron, offhandedly, “she could’ve given that one to me, it’s what I eat at home when I mess up dinner” and not knowing why Ron is horrified.

Imagine Harry seeing what a normal, functioning family looks like, and realizing the absence of love in his own life. 

It’s annoying when fans complain about how “inaccurate” the films were. Please, they were one of the most accurate book-to-film adaptations made. I mean just look at other adaptations like the Percy Jackson and Divergent movies. We should be happy that the biggest inaccuracy in the Harry Potter films was that random fire at the Burrow.

1034. Having been invited to many dinners at The Burrow over the years, Harry always noticed that Molly never really sat down to eat with the rest of the family. She was always serving others and making sure everyone had enough to eat, and usually ate while cooking or after everyone else was finished. When he asked her about this, she replied, “One of my greatest joys is seeing people enjoy my food. When those I love are happy, I am happy. Now, have some more shepherd’s pie.”

submitted by theyoungprinceandprincess

christmas at the burrow

•grandma molly announces picture time
•collective groans from all the kids
•they start with the entire family photo
•molly and arthur stand in the middle of course looking super proud of their big, loving family
•EVERYONE HAS THEIR CHRISTMAS SWEATERS ON
•the kids always try to spell words with the sweaters
•they adults pretend to not know what they’re doing because they secretly find it hilarious
•"aunt angelina it would look so great it you stood by grandma, and grandma you should be next to uncle percy AND LOUIS GO NEXT TO ANGELINA OH IT IS PERFECT"-(probably james or fred)
•that spells lamp
•these kids find it hilarious to spell the word lamp with sweaters
•one time they spelled alfalfa which the kids believe is their greatest accomplishment.
•then they take their individual family photos
•teddy is in every single one because teddy is basically everyone’s kid
•i forgot to mention that andromeda comes too
•george, angelina, fred, and roxanne take the stupidest christmas photo known to man. weird poses weird faces-everything.
•there is a strict schedule to follow. first they all open ONE christmas gift (the weasley sweater) then they eat, then take pictures, then they open the rest of their presents, and open the presents from santa the next morning.
•SOMEHOW they fit enough beds in the burrow for everyone
•"vic and i can always share a bed??“ teddy has asked this ever since they started dating
•you will never have any food as marvellous as the christmas food ad the burrow.
•all the kids have to go through the pain and suffering that their parents had to go through by preparing some of the ingredients
•"we have wands! we have MAGIC! and you are making us skin these damn potatoes.” “it’s supposed to be a humbling experience james.”
•it’s really loud
•like really really loud
•but they always have a moment of silence right before dinner in honour of fred
•well… they did
•george thinks that silence was never fred’s thing so they change it to an annual snowball fight
•james, george, and fred ii most likely have a prank war which results in many broken noses and fingers
•just a ton of games to be honest
•everyone gets a shit ton of weasley’s wizard wheezes products
•A CAULDRON FULL OF HOT, STRONG LOVE
•poor fleur basically dies because celestine warbeck is on constantly
•roxanne, lily and rose have extensive dance routines to all her songs
•albus spends a lot of his time asking if scorpius can get a weasley sweater
•everyone is super hesitant on the subject but albus convinces them after almost 2 years
•once scorpius gets his sweaters he starts coming over a few days after christmas because the family is there all holiday
•scorpius is eventually welcomed into the family after a few awkward hours
•i love scorpius
•cinnamon buns
•they get THE BEST presents aaaah
•they’re soosososo good
•the burrow is just full of love and happiness and warmth and stupid, petty, little fights but everyone still loves each other so damn much.

10

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets - Chapter Three: The Burrow

“Touchdown!” said Fred as, with a slight bump, they hit the ground. They had landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard, and Harry looked out for the first time at Ron’s house.

It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic (which, Harry reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, the burrow. Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.

“It’s not much,” said Ron.

“It’s wonderful,” said Harry happily, thinking of Privet Drive.

Christmas Drabbles - George

Originally posted by your-harry-potter-imagines

-Spending christmas with his family in the burrow

-Having a fierce snowball fight in the garden and being practically frozen when you finally manage to get back inside

-Getting a personalized sweater from Molly

-Spending a lot of time baking cookies, pies and surounding yourselves in food in general

-You and George sitting on the couch, trying to stay awake the whole night just because neither of you believes the other one can do it

-Trying to stay awake by starting random tickle fights

-Falling asleep just to wake up with his cheek resting on your head and the sound of his soft snores filling the room

George Weasley x Reader: Family Matters

AN: Thank you for the patience <3 Here is some George for you tonight, and hopefully I will have more fics out this week

Warnings: There’s a playful NSFW part, but nothing explicit 

Requested by: @resurrectedskeleton

Ice rolled through Y/N’s veins, and it felt like someone was air popping corn kernels in her stomach. She fussed with everything, fluffing her hair and making sure her clothes were pressed precisely. A spot of perfume but not too much, and any blemishes were covered up to make a good impression. Y/N charmed her shoes to dispel any water or mud, thinking she’d just die if she got the carpet in the Weasley household dirty.

Not the best way to be introduced to the parents of Y/N’s boyfriend.

She tried to stay positive, she really did. There was no way that such sweet (albeit mischievous) children could come from hateful people, and George assured her that Mrs. Weasley was already in stitches having heard good things about Y/N from himself. It was high time that they met, Y/N and George had been courting for a good number of months. As her parents had decided to visit foreign relatives during the winter break, the Weasleys invited her to Christmas dinner and other festivities. She was thrilled to receive their enthusiasm, but the butterflies certainly landed in her tummy when she woke up on Christmas Eve morning.

George wasn’t exactly unshakeable either. He knew that his parents would love Y/N, that was stupidly obvious. She was a Hufflepuff ball of sunshine, and anyone who was graced with her presence had their day improved. Y/N had a solid gold heart, and the Weasleys would see that immediately – George knew that he did. However, he was nervous for his own good. The second the baby book full of pictures of George and Fred in the nude appeared, he would be taking Y/N out for a walk. There was the tiniest bit of dread in his stomach, fearing that Y/N wouldn’t want to be with him anymore if she saw the more embarrassing parts of his life.

Swallowing his anxieties, he rapped a knuckle on Y/N’s door.

“Are you in there, love?” George called.

“…No.” Y/N replied, her voice shaking.

George gave a chuckle.

“Come on, we’ve got to leave for the train, sweetheart.” He insisted. “Don’t be nervous, I’m one hundred and ten percent sure that my parents won’t stop fussing over you and will be writing me daily about how much they adored you. It’ll be annoying, I promise!”

“George I’m taking this a lot more seriously than you are!” Y/N shouted back.

“Let me in.” George said.

“No!”

“If you won’t let me in, I’ll just come in.”

“No George, I’m seri-“

He snatched the door knob, and tugged, walking in to see a topless Y/N, angrily clutching a shirt to her chest. George pulled his eyebrows together, smirking evilly. She did not share his joyous sentiments.

“I told you not to come in.” She snapped.

“But I’m so glad I did.” George said, with a cheeky wink.

Y/N sighed, sitting on her bed, which was littered with different articles of clothing. George rubbed her back, and pulled Y/N into his lap. She curled into his button up shirt, and relished the kisses he placed to her forehead.

“I promise you that if you feel uncomfortable, we will leave. I will not make you stay if you do not want to. It’s your Christmas Eve too.” He whispered, combing through her hair with his fingers.

Y/N uncurled and slipped her shirt on. Nodding and clenching her fist in George’s, she let him lead her out of the room.

The train ride was mild. George got some club soda into Y/N to calm her stomach, and she watched the scenery go by out the window, leaning against him. Snowflakes floated all around the train, and tall trees became coated in white. George’s plush scarf provided good cushioning, and Y/N quickly fell asleep watching the pattern of snow falling.

A pair of soft, warm lips on her cheek woke her gently when the train chugged to a halt. As her y/e/c eyes blinked open, she was welcomed back into consciousness with the view of her auburn-haired prince grinning down at her from above, with a halo of winter sunshine glowing around his head, making his freckles pop like embers from a sizzling fire. It was pure bliss, and she smiled up at him.

“-‘ve got to go. Dad’s waiting outside. Everyone else is already there, love. Can you even hear what I’m saying?” George was explaining.

Oh. Daydream foiled.

However, the fact that she was keeping Mr. Weasley waiting certainly lit a fire under Y/N’s keister, and she clambered out of the seat within seconds. George wrangled the luggage, and soon they were out of the comfy train car, and into the realm of frosted breath and goose bumps. Shielding her eyes from the sun, Y/N looked onto the platform for someone who resembled George, or any of his siblings for that matter.

A very excited man with a receding red hairline stood a few paces down the platform, rocking back and forth on his heels. Y/N swallowed all of her nerves, and followed George down onto the pavement. Mr. Weasley caught sight of them and started forwards at once. Y/N prepared for their first encounter with a warm smile and an outstretched hand, but Mr. Weasley went for a bone crushing hug.

“So nice to meet you, Miss. Y/N!” He said, releasing her. She looked a bit startled, but kept her cool. “Hope that my son has been treating you well. Molly cannot wait to see you, she’s been bustling about all morning – cannot keep still. Too excited.”

“And you know, to see her son who she has missed dearly…” George grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Mr. Weasley gave him a hug and ruffled his hair, then the three traveled off of the platform. Once outside of King’s Cross and muggle scrutiny, Mr. Weasley held out both arms for apparition. Y/N looked uncertain at the notion. George caught her glance.

“Try to hold it in.” He said, tapping her stomach.

“No promises.” She said under her breath, and the familiar whirring sensation stirred her entire body like it was in a cocktail shaker.

Suddenly, they were a few hundred feet from a crooked looking house and a large grassy lawn. There was a raging Quidditch game going on in the field to their left, and up ahead a short and squat, but very friendly, looking woman with busy red hair ran forwards with outstretched arms. George smirked at Y/N and ran a hand through his hair, expecting to be enveloped with hugs and kisses from his adoring mother, but instead found that she had flocked to his girlfriend instead.

“Can’t catch a break today.” He chuckled.

If Mr. Weasley’s hug was tight, then Mrs. Weasley’s hug could be considered pulverizing. Y/N could smell cinnamon and fresh linens, and felt comforted by Mrs. Weasley’s presence. When she pulled back, Mrs. Weasley smiled brightly at her, her crows feet crinkling with joy. Behind her, George mouthed “I told you so”, and followed his father into the house.

“Hello Mrs. Weasley, my name is-“

“Oh Y/N dear, please call me Molly. I’m so pleased to meet the young lady who has been making my son into a respectable man, heaven knows I haven’t been able to.” Mrs. Weasley responded.

“Ma’am I don’t think anyone will ever be able to do that, but I’m making progress.” Y/N chuckled. “Thank you for the invitation and for your hospitality.”

“The pleasure is ours! Don’t be a stranger, supper is nearly ready. Let me show you around.” Mrs. Weasley offered.

As Y/N was led inside, she felt the butterflies settle in her stomach. Everyone dawned a smiling face, and the din within the household was comforting. Taking a seat beside her beloved boyfriend, she felt right at home.

“Welcome to the family, Y/N.” George whispered into her ear.

Dating George would include...

Requested- i loved the draco one! could you do a “george weasley showing his affection would include..” please? + Hi! Can you please do a ‘dating George would include’?

A/n- I combined both of the requests for this :)

- - -

  • him surprising you with sneaky kisses
  • always as caring as he could be
  • taking you everywhere with him
  • stuffing food to you
  • him taking your hand in his 24/7
  • being super mad when he hears someone talking trash of you
  • standing out for you
  • with reddened cheeks (aww)
  • “I dare you to say that again, punk”
  • “George, it’s fine! No, George!”
  • then he punches the guy in the face
  • ending up having one week’s worth of detention
  • being good friends with Fred and the rest of the Weasleys
  • visiting the Burrow with him
  • meeting Mr. and Mrs. Weasley
  • Mr. Weasley asking you tons of questions about Muggles
  • “So do tell me, what is the exact function of a rubber duck?”
  • you sighing and laughing on Mr. Weasley’s attempt on doing Muggle impressions
  • “Dad, stop, you’re embarrassing me.”
  • Fred embarrassing George even more by telling you tales of George’s crush on you
  • you chuckling because those stories are freaking cute af
  • deep kisses when alone
  • you drowning in his scent
  • cuddling a lot in the common room

request // masterlist

The Weasley parents run their day like bookends.

Molly wakes the Burrow. She wakes before anyone, opens the shutters, feeds the chickens and draws the eggs gracefully into a basket with her wand, lights a fire in the kitchen hearth and starts breakfast. 

Arthur puts the house to sleep. He is the last to bed each night, and only after drawing the cat inside, neatening the foyer and hanging coats on the racks, kissing the last of his children goodnight, turning off every light, closing all the windows, and locking all the doors. It calms him to see the house put to rights before he sleeps. 

Their respective care and love keeps house in peace and balance. 

Xmas morning at The Burrow

- Molly waking everyone with the smell of sizzling bacon by wafting the aroma under everyone’s door

- Everyone wearing their Xmas sweaters, of course

- Live fairies living in the tree

- Arthur opening Harry’s present and nearly going into convulsions when he sees it’s a toaster

- Bill blushing furiously when Fleur gives him a “coupon book”

- Molly forgetting to open her own presents because she is too busy enjoying watching everyone else

- Fleur huffing and rolling her eyes at the radio which seems to only be playing Celestina

- Charlie giving everyone a miniature dragon, which puts everything on hold for a few minutes as they all fly around the room (Ginny’s Chinese Fireball sets flame to Ron’s sweater)

- George apologizing for giving Percy a punching telescope instead of a tickling one (but not without copious laughter)

- Percy giving everyone books on how to better yourself

- Hermione being thrilled

- Ron getting into an argument about Quidditch with Ginny

- Harry quickly excusing himself as to not have to choose a side

- Hermione giving Arthur a slinky. He’s thrilled.

- Harry and Ginny announcing that they are going to be parents.

A Better Look

I’m SO sorry this took me so long!  I’m still winding down the busiest week at school.  Anyways, I wrote this as a request for @macyl0819!  Hope you like it, dear!  Enjoy! xx

Imagine:  I was wondering if you could write a Hufflepuff reader with Fred Weasley.


Originally posted by obviouslyphelps

The burrow was restless and stirring, even in the early hours of the balmy summer morning.  Hazy sunlight swept across the golden plains which paved the way to the quirky structure, weaving in between each individual weed and stalk like a continuous ribbon of warm light.  You could faintly pick up the soft rustling of the reeds near the brook, accompanied with the damp bristles of a course brush scrubbing away at stubborn cookery.  Your eyes, heavy with the remnants of a good night’s rest, blinked open in an expected response to the humble noises and warm glow of a new day.

“Psst.”  Your sleepy daze was broken in a near instant with the uttering of a simple nuisance.  Sighing deeply and slowly, you rolled onto your opposite shoulder and propped yourself up. You blinked in the adjusting light.

“What d’you want, Fred?” your throat was dry and scratchy, but the dewiness in the fresh air spilling through the open window offered welcome relief.  As you adjusted to your new state of awareness, you could see a fond smile growing on Fred’s lips.  He stood in the doorway of Ginny’s bedroom that you’d been sharing, propped against the doorframe like a grinning ginger giant.

“S’bout time you joined the realm of the living, now, don’t ya think, Y/N?” his bare freckled arms crossed across his chest as he gazed down at you with an unbelievable amount of mockery dancing through his liquid eyes.  Your responding smile was lazy and carefree as you yawned and stretched your arms above your head.

“I suppose I could go for a spot of breakfast,” your eyes flicked to his quickly and your smile dropped suddenly as you caught sight of the quaint cuckoo clock on the wall.  

“Merlin’s beard, I’m meant to be helping your mother with breakfast right now!” you jumped to your feet and all at once became very conscious of the fact that you were clad only in a thin ivory tank top and matching pajama shorts.  A flourish of pink spread across your cheeks; Fred was chuckling under his breath and shaking his head.

“Honestly, Y/N, you’re too sweet for your own good,” he grinned.  “Mum’s been through with breakfast for a while now.”

As you grasped at the blanket covering your slender body, you bit your lip and felt your eyebrows knit together in concern.

“Oh, dear…I wanted so much to show my thanks for your family’s hospitality,” your hands slid onto your cheeks in worry; they were warm and flushed not only from your emotional response, but also from the steadily growing heat of the summer day.  Fred shook his head once more.

“Not to sound like a poof, but you’ve been a good friend to Ginny for years, and we’re all grateful to you for that,” Fred rolled his eyes and looked faux-disgusted at the words tumbling from his lips, which then curled into a smile.  “No need to fret, silly girl.”  It was your turn to let the familiar tingle of a genuine smile take over.

Clutching the blanket around you like a grand cape, you stepped past Fred into the hallway.

“It’s funny, Fred,” you started as you trotted down the stairs.  “You’re sweeter than you let people believe.”

Fred followed close at your heels and chuckled.  Your eyes shot open to the fullest when you were suddenly hit with a burst of cool air as your cape of wool disappeared from around your shoulders.  You gasped at the unwelcome sensation and stumbled on the steps.  As your heightened senses prepared for your inevitable fall and consequential pain, you felt a pair of strong arms grip your waist like a vice.

Eyes wide, you turned your head to find Fred holding you.  His eyebrows were the highest you’ve ever seen them, whether from concern or surprise. Your eyes darted down to his foot and the wool blanket that resided underneath it, then narrowed at his prankster actions. He chuckled as he set you upright.

“It seems you’re wrong, Y/N. Clearly I’m the git everyone else believes me to be,” he winked and threw the blanket over your head, tramping down the stairs and laughing almost maniacally.  Before reaching the bottom, though, his eyes shifted to you for a split second, just to make sure you weren’t truly injured after all. Satisfied and relieved to see you continue down the stairs from underneath the blanket like a child, he smiled softly and trotted into the den.

You were blushing under all of that wool, and you knew it wasn’t from the heat of summer anymore.  You were thankful for the mask that hid your pink cheeks and amorous little smile.


Your stomach moaned in protest as it attempted to settle the uproarious battle between the pumpkin juice and eggs that Mrs. Weasley had all but forced down your throat.

“Please, have some more, dear! You’re so thin,” Mrs. Weasley begged, making a grab for the skillet sizzling atop the stove.  You covered your mouth and let out what you hoped to be an inconspicuous burp.  Fred snorted over his bowl of porridge and smirked at you.  You bit you lip and offered a little smile.

“No, thank you so much, Mrs. Weasley, truly.  It’s all been so amazing,” you carefully lifted yourself from the creaky chair, adjusting to the new load you’d taken on at breakfast.  

You nearly waddled to the screen door. Although the smells of the buffet behind you were absolutely delectable, they also doubled as overpowering given the amount you’d just eaten.  The refreshing outside air, which wafted through the door, washed over you, offering great relief.  You closed your eyes and breathed the outside world in deeply.

With such disregard to everything around you, you hadn’t realized that you’d been standing in the doorway long enough for the Weasley family to retreat to their respective rooms.  You didn’t mind; it was a beautiful day.  Why shouldn’t I enjoy this?

With a swift little squeak, the screen door opened and you waded into the tall green grasses.  The untamed almost wild quality possessed by the burrow was something you always admired. There never would exist a better home for an entirely Gryffindor family.  Even so, as a Hufflepuff yourself, you never felt out of place. The environment was inviting, the people even more so.  You took your time to drink in the sight of it on your last day.

“Dallying, are we?” You let out a breath and rolled your eyes at the sound of the familiar snarky voice. Before you could retort, your sassy words disappeared with two arms sliding around your waist.

“Fred, what are–?” you craned your neck to look back up into his warm brown eyes, but only for a moment before your view changed.  His freckled face got progressively smaller as he lifted you in his arms, nearly above his head, as if you were a doll.

“Fred!” you squirmed a bit in his firm grasp in protest.  He promptly shushed you and somehow was able to maneuver you to perch on his broad shoulder as if you were a prized parrot.  Your heart was racing as the ground appeared miles below your dangling bare feet.

“Please Fred, put me down, I’m afraid!”

“Oh, live a little, Y/N,” Fred chuckled lightheartedly and kept an everlasting strong hold of your hip beside his head.  His fine red hairs tickled your exposed skin, and you found your hand inadvertently knotting into them for balance.

“Ow!  Relax, Y/N, my goodness,” he winced and continued laughing as if it were all a joke.  You squirmed more, embarrassment evident on your reddening cheeks.

“Fred!!!”

“Merlin’s beard, look ahead!” his voice was laced with struggle and slight annoyance, but a smile never left his ruddy face.  You huffed and dragged your narrowed eyes away from Fred’s smugness, setting your sights to the horizon.

Your mouth dropped open a bit.  The sight was incredible from your perch.  The sun danced above the rolling golden planes in a burst of brilliance contrasted with the stark blue of the cloudless sky. The gentle breeze moved through the tall grasses like a wave and caressed your flushed skin like an old lover.

“I thought you might want a better look, you’re always staring at it so bloody much,” Fred chuckled and patted your thigh.  You swallowed.

“It’s beautiful…I just enjoy coming here so much,” you tore your gaze away from the transcendental sight to look down at Fred.  “It’s such a familiar, loud, and beautiful place…for all the right reasons.  I know I don’t share entirely in your family’s vivacious and fiery lifestyle, but I’ve always felt I belonged here.”

With your hand tangled in Fred’s peppery locks, you could almost feel the soft smile tingling on his lips.  You had to smile yourself at the thought of it, of him. You always had tender feelings for Fred, perhaps much more tender than a young woman should have for her best friend’s elder brother.  Ever since he’d accidentally slipped a dungbomb into your school bag, mistaking it for Ginny’s, and he was wracked with guilt, he’d somewhat had a special hold on your heart.  You could still see his brown eyes, wide with worry at his mistake but still glimmering with a whimsical playfulness and a mischief that struggled to stay away from the rest of his face.  You giggled to yourself.

Fred glanced up at you.

“What’s s’funny?” before you could respond, you were airborne, tumbling through space until you landed in a set of strong arms.  Blinking in disbelief, your eyes crawled up to meet Fred’s.  He was smirking as he held you close to his broad chest.

“You do belong here by the way,” Fred remarked, matter-o-factly.  You blushed and gripped at the soft cotton of his nightshirt, which still clung to him even in the late hours of the morning.  Your mind raced with possibilities.

“The burrow, I mean,” he chuckled and placed you gently on your feet once more.  “You know right well that you’re welcome anytime.”  Your shoulders sank a little, realizing he hadn’t simply meant you belonged in his arms.

“Oh, right,” you sighed and smiled softly up at him.  His face was radiant in the morning sunlight, every freckle and dimple dancing about like pure paint strokes.  Fred seemed to study your face thoughtfully.  Your cheeks burned as he piped:

“Y’know, you make the view here a little better, if you can believe it Y/N.”  Suddenly you were at a loss for words, and Fred turned on his heel towards the house once more.  Did he really just say that?  Am I dreaming?  You could only follow his lanky figure with your eyes, trailing after him in spirit like a lost puppy.  Truly you found yourself wanting nothing more than to be in his arms once more.

Before he stepped through the door, Fred turned his head to look back at you, still frozen in the midst of the summer heat and quivering grasses up to your knees.  He rolled his eyes.

“Well come on then, Y/N,” he quirked his head towards the house and you eagerly skipped forward, as if attached to him like a puppet on strings.  Fred held the screen door open for you and you stepped under his arm, smiling sunnily. His hand grazed your exposed hip.

“Meet me upstairs in a few, will you?” his whisper carried a hint of mischief and you bit your lip, continuing into the house.  You stifled how flustered he made you simply from the tickle of his breath against your skin.  I must play this game, and I must win it.


You waited at least a full hour before climbing the countless flights of stairs to Fred’s bedroom.  Assuming that’s where he’d meant to meet you, you took a deep breath as thoughts raced through your swimming head.  You raised your hand slowly and rested your knuckles against the smooth grain of the bedroom door before you.  Biting your lip, you pulled your hand back and prepared to knock. Before you could do so, the door swung open to reveal an all-too-familiar pair of smirking lips attached to a tall red-haired man.  You couldn’t help but smile goofily as your insides tightened.  He was dressed for the day at last, clad in a deep blue t-shirt, khaki trousers, and a far too smug expression.

“What a surprise,” his voice dripped with sarcasm and he struggled to keep from laughing at himself.  “Won’t you come in?”

He gestured his arms grandly, inviting you into the quaint room adorned with quiddich paraphernalia and practical joke objects.  Your flowing, lavender sundress moved fluidly as you walked through the doorframe.  To your enormous satisfaction, you caught a glimpse of Fred’s eyes twinkle as he watched you float about the room in your lovely dress.

You smirked.  Let’s have a little fun.  

“Do you like my dress, Fred?” you laughed musically and gave a little twirl.  Fred swallowed and broke out in a genuine smile.

“It’s almost as bloody lovely as you are,” he leaned back against the bedframe, crossing his arms and quirking an eyebrow.  You halted mid-twirl and blushed, your cheeks giving you away yet again.  Bloody Hell, just when I’ve got the upper hand.  Fred laughed before you could formulate a witty, or even a cohesive, response.

“You don’t have to be so nervous, Y/N. It’s just me, after all,” he grinned. You swallowed.

“Of course,” you stuttered, clasping your hands in front of you.  You hadn’t realized how nervous you were under your cool, coy façade.  Fred’s smile only grew.

“I suppose I know how you feel though,” he started, thoughtfully.  You tilted your head in confusion.

“Oh?”  He soon smirked.

“I mean, I tend to have this effect on girls,” he could hardly contain his snarkiness.  You rolled your eyes.

“Honestly, Fred,” you chuckled. “What did you want with me again?”

His easy-going smile faltered slightly at the simple question, and he cleared his throat.

“Right, erm…” he fidgeted and gripped the bedpost.  “S’just that I’ve known you for a while now and, like I mentioned before, we- I’m really grateful to you for being such a good friend to my little sister.”  You were a bit confused, as you didn’t know where he intended to go with this point.  He could obviously read the confusion on your face and he laughed dryly.

“Sorry that’s a bit irrelevant, I suppose,” he looked up at the ceiling searching for words.  “The point is that I guess I’ve grown very…fond of you.” You couldn’t believe your eyes. Fred was blushing.  His freckles stood out against the stark pink of his cheeks. He was not alone in this, though, as you felt your own face heat up.  Your heart fluttered at his words.  

“Go on…” you pressed, leaning on the bedframe beside him.  He gazed into your eyes and the corner of his mouth turned up gently in a smile.

“Well, maybe you know what I’m getting at already…I can always tell you feel the same.  Your body language betrays you, love,” his breath tickled your nose and blew a few stray hairs from your face.  You bit your lip, producing a huge smile from Fred.

“See what I mean!” he laughed and you quickly withdrew your teeth from the center of your lower lip.  Flustered as you were, you smiled and giggled.

Fred’s hand crept around your waist and rested on your hip gently.  Your breath caught in your throat, but you pushed aside any nervousness and rested your hand on his shoulder.

“I do feel the same,” you whispered. He offered you the most real smile you’d ever seen and pulled you close to him.  You closed your eyes as you breathed in his scent of cinnamon, which played with the moist summer air that spilled from the windows.  For the first time, you could feel Fred’s hesitance. For the first time, you took honest initiative as you held his face in your hands, and confidently pressed your lips against his.

His lips welcomed yours and he blossomed under your touch, lifting you from the ground and into his arms.  The kiss was deliciously pure and warm.  You broke only for a moment and caught a better look of Fred’s brown eyes, dancing in the sunlight pouring through the room. You smiled with an immense amount of happiness; the view of the landscape just outside paled in comparison to the view of his smiling eyes.

@mnqk asked if the Weasley chickens have names. 

Do your really think Ginny Weasley, who (A) who named not only her Pygmy Puff but also Ron’s owl ridiculous names, (B) derives joy from irritating her practical mother, and © caused a lot of damage to quite a few roosters during her first year at Hogwarts and never ate chicken any time thereafter, would be capable of owning chickens and not naming them? 

They all have first and middle names, and their last name is Weasley.