#the burrow
Ginny wearing Harry’s letter man jacket
Bang the Doldrums | f.w.
a/n: i am absolutely in LOVE with this song and fred weasley!!! i highly suggest listening to Bang the Doldrums by Fall out Boy either before or during your read!
c/w: alcohol use
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You and Fred Weasley always had a sort of- how to put it- tension. Since you had met in your 3rd year, there was always a wink or sly remark thrown your way, and vice versa, but you thought it meant nothing from him. You kept it to yourself, but, you had always had a crush on the lanky ginger boy who had grown to become your best friend. You would sooner enter the forbidden forest alone than ruin your friendship with him over some little feelings.
Tonight, though, you were toying with the idea that maybe your crush was not so little. You, the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione were playing a game of Truth, Dare, or Drink. Now, this wasn’t so bad until the twins brought out a small green vial and sat it in the center of the criss-crossed circle you all had formed on the floor.
“Firewhiskeyand veritaserum? Really boys?” Hermione complained, her tone suggesting that, this time, they had taken the game too far.
“Whaat? It’s not like we’ll ask anything too revealing,” Fred replied with a wink at you. Your cheeks grew hot, probably just the whiskey, right? You always hated truth or dare, your friends had a habit of choosing the most embarrassing dares and the most revealing truths, but then, what was a Weasley game without some spark?
“Fine but I’m choosing dare on every single one of my turns,” Hermione rebutted with a knowing grin.
“Sure! No shame in that,” the twins said in unison. You always wondered just how they did that, sometimes their joint sentences were so long it was almost impressive.
“Alright settle down ladies and gentlemen, the game is about to begin!” George said in a mock-announcer voice. “What brave soul dares go first?” Your stomach ached slightly with nerves hoping that someone would volunteer before one of the twins chose you first.
“I think Y/n should go first!” dammit Fred. Of course, the group murmured a cluster of agreement. “Right then, truth or dare?” he asked you innocently.
“umm… dare?” you said, silently cursing your friends who put you into this awful position.
“Dare! Wonderful choice, Y/l/n. I dare you to eat a puking pastille!” Your face contorted with disgust. Fred saw this and cheekily replied, “or you could always drink instead!”
“Drink it is,” you replied before taking a swig from your glass, coughing at the burn in your throat.
The game continued on for a few more rounds with Ron telling his most embarrassing school story, George receiving a chocolate that caused him to make varied cat-noises for 30 seconds, and Harry taking at least 3 drinks. When it got to Hermione, though, you were less than focused on her play. Fred had removed his jacket, and you noticed his collar had been undone slightly, and his hair, God, it was perfectly messy, and his smile was lethal, and those eyes-
“Right, Y/n,” Ginny started, “truth or dare?” Your thoughts were cut off, as the game had finally returned to you. You dreaded your answer, but the dares thrown at the others seemed to grow worse with each round, so you reluctantly replied, “Truth,” immediately regretting your words.
The group cheered and George handed you the vial of veritaserum. You took a sip, and as you swallowed, Ginny asked her question. “Do you fancy someone in this room?”
You nearly choked on the potion. You could feel the redness creep to your cheeks, but you couldn’t help yourself from replying, “Yes!” Startled by your own words, your hands flew to your mouth. Everyone leaned in toward you, overlapping their “oo"s and whistles.
"Really?!” She replied, now excited, having received a different answer than she expected. “Who?” she pried. You hoped that Hermione would but in just then, stating that two questions weren’t allowed in the rules, but she was just as interested to know as the rest of them.
You fought to keep in your answer, but it found itself to your lips and you unwillingly replied “Fred!” You cringed and dipped your head down to avoid eye contact with your friends, but the girls squealed and the guys began patting Fred on the back, echoing in cheers and praises.
Suddenly your ears were filled with questions about how long you’d fancied him, did he know, and why didn’t you tell us?! All you could do was blush and grip your glass close to your mouth, pretending to drink.
The game was now over, this new, exciting information took precedent over some silly game. You hadn’t even stopped to notice the red tint on your counterpart’s cheeks, or the fact that he hadn’t spoken a word since you blurted out your secret.
Eventually, George said something that took the attention off of you and Fred, and you were able to talk to him without the extra pairs of eyes and ears on you.
“Hey I’m sorry about that it’s probably just the whiskey I-” your rambles were cut off by Fred’s interruption.
“It’s alright, we’re best friends!”
You blurted: “Better off as lovers, and not the other way around,” and again, your hands covered your mouth. Was it leftover veritaserum? Or was it just the newfound confidence you felt now?
Fred looked shocked, your confidence faltered, he doesn’t think the same as you, of course he doesn’t. He steps toward you. “Do you really think so?” Your eyes become glued to the shag carpet beneath you. Then, he lifts your chin with his finger. “Darling I’ve been waiting to hear that for ages, you have no idea.”
Your eyes grow wide, “You’re not joking are you? Fred if you are it’s not funny,” you say with a warning tone.
“Don’t worry, princess, I’m not that cruel,” he says with a chuckle. Princess, huh? That used to be something he said when you were being lazy or pouting, but now it felt different.
“So what now?” you asked.
“Can I kiss you?” he replied. You can’t believe he even asked, that was way out of character for your best friend. You nodded, nevertheless, and he planted a sweet kiss on your lips. You were way too enthralled by Fred’s lips on yours to notice that the room had gone completely silent, and your friends had turned their attention back to you.
Eventually, Ron and George started cheering and Harry joined in. You pulled away abruptly and your cheeks grew red once again. Fred laughed and your fingers touched your lips, still in disbelief that your best friend just kissed you.
Screenshot redraw!!
I love Percy So much and he looked so chaotic here so I couldn’t resist,,,,
But damn drawing still life digitally sucks
The Burrow is kind of a cottage core dream tbh
Also version without saturated colours + orginal scene
Here we go ♂️
Expectations vs reality of Snape
✨Team friendship! ❤️
Harry and Ron are the most underrated friendship since Shawn and Gus. I love them
Inktober Day 14: Overgrown.
“The garden was large, and in Harry’s eyes, exactly what a garden should be. The Dursleys wouldn’t have liked it - there were plenty of weeds, and the grass needed cutting but there were gnarled trees all around the walls, plants Harry had never seen spilling from every flower bed, and a big green pond full of frogs.” - Harry in the Weasleys’ garden, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
A Weight Off My Chest
Of course, @edie-k nails this second kiss!
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Title: A Weight Off My Chest
Author: Edie K.
Trope: Second Kiss
Rating: Teen for language and innuendo
Summary: A strappy vest forces Ron to have a difficult conversation.
Word Count: 2050
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Ron exited the bathroom, footsteps careful and light. At this time of the night, everyone in the Burrow should be sound asleep. But Ron knew as well as anyone how hard it was to achieve that peace these days and didn’t want to be the one to disrupt it.
He spotted Ginny’s closed bedroom door and grimaced. Part of him wanted to crack the door and poke at his sister, but in the end he was too worried about what he would find. And really, they were doing him a favor.
After nearly losing both Harry and Hermione in the last two months, Ron’s selfish preference was to have them by his side at all times. But some things needed more leniency–that’s why Harry was in there with Ginny, and not Hermione.
On the first night back at the Burrow, he could see how uncomfortable it made Harry to share his room while Hermione slept in Ron’s bed. And Ginny had been shirty about sleeping in her room alone. So the next morning, Ron stuttered out a barely coherent request to Hermione, asking if she could fix the situation. She seemed to understand (though she gave him an amused look), and patted his chest, promising to talk to Harry.
He tiptoed up the stairs to his attic bedroom and the temperature climbed higher with each step. It was stuffy and warm, even for early May.
The benefit of the heat was that like him, Hermione ended up sleeping in vests and shorts. He couldn’t deny the thrill he got from her smooth legs brushing up against him in the night. Ron shook the thought away. Going down that path would not lead to him resuming sleep.
He entered his room, softly closing the door behind him. The room was much cooler than the stairway, thanks to Hermione’s brilliant spell work. He gently pulled back the light bed covers to slide in next to a sleeping Hermione and was greeted by—
Her bare left tit.
Ron’s internal debate throughout this whole chapter was so brilliantly in character and hilarious! Loved this so much ❤
Lovely
Cheesy’s back with another DH Missing Moment! Enjoy :)
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Fic Title: Lovely
Author Name: cheesyficwriter
Selected Trope: DH Missing Moment
Brief Summary: She can’t stop herself from always fearing the worst; no matter how hard she squeezes her eyes shut in an attempt to block out her mind, she can’t sleep. Neither, she realizes, can Ron.
Word Count: 1,428
Rating: T
Trigger Warnings: N/A
A/N: Takes place after the Battle of Seven Potters
Sometimes the quiet can be suffocating.
Hermione lays awake on the camp bed in Ginny’s room, fighting the restlessness that’s preventing her from getting proper sleep. The events from the long day—retrieving Harry, taking Polyjuice Potion, flying, reconvening at the Burrow—trickle into her mind. Over and over again, she reviews the image of multiple Harry Potters arriving on their brooms, safely landing within the protective enchantments. Each one morphed quickly into their original forms, bringing her thoughts to the moment she discovered Ron and Tonks missed their Portkey, and the subsequent stomach-churning sensation that followed.
The more she rehashes some of the longest minutes of her life, the more her tormenting thoughts start to plant seedlings of doubt on whether or not going on a hunt for Horcruxes is the right thing to do. If she came this close to losing Ron today when others had been—
Now’s not the time to overanalyze every decision you make, Hermione.
She can’t stop herself from always fearing the worst; no matter how hard she squeezes her eyes shut in an attempt to block out her mind, she can’t sleep. Neither, she realizes, can Ron.
Hermione knows the pattern of footsteps creaking up the rickety stairs outside her door—the clunky, somewhat lazy shuffling lacking any subtlety—belongs to her ginger-haired best friend, without the need to check to make sure. She knows it’s him.
The sound of a door clicking shut startles her, but it’s too close for Ron to be back in his attic bedroom. Too curious to lay dormant any longer, Hermione throws off the covers and tiptoes her way out of the room without waking Ginny.
Her feet pad their way quickly and quietly up the crooked steps, only pausing once she sees the light from the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. Ron must be in there, but Hermione hasn’t thought of what she will do or say to him once he comes out. She paces the landing, her stomach contracting into a tight ball.
What is she doing? What should she say? What does she wantto say?
Hermione swallows, but is unable to wet her parched throat. Perhaps she should go for a glass of water while she waits. That should give her enough time to think about her conversation with Ron without going completely mental and biting her nails off.
But she only manages to take two steps down the stairs before she hears a lock clicking open. Her heart pounds within her chest as she tries to make a quiet escape without detection, before Ron can—
“Hermione?”
Ron’s voice comes out thick and unsteady, and Hermione can feel the tension in her own jaw as she grinds her teeth together.
Blast.
Wringing her hands, she turns around and offers Ron what must look like a spastic smile. “Oh!” She speaks in a suffocated whisper. “Sorry.”
“Did you, er, need to?” He points to the loo while scratching the back of his neck with his other hand.
“Yes.” Hermione nods her head in rapid succession, climbing up the stairs, careful to avoid the areas on each step that tend to creak the most. “I was going to go to the bathroom.”
“Really?” Ron quirks up one brow, a teasing glint shining in his eye. “So why were you walking away from it?”
“No. No, I—oh forget it, it’s ridiculous-”
“Hermione.” Ron’s low voice is stern, and she can tell he’s having difficulty keeping his voice quiet. “What’s going on?”
She nibbles on her bottom lip as she presses her back against the nearest wall, her shoulders slumping against it.
When Hermione looks up, she meets Ron’s heated gaze and her heart stumbles over its own rhythm as she takes in his disheveled, sleep-filled hair, set jaw, and the scruff on his chin—when did he become so mature? She always thought she was the one out of their trio who maintained the most control over the dire, nerve-racking situations they’ve been placed in.
But if today assured her of anything, it’s that she’s no longer in control over her feelings for her best friend.
Dis me again love DH Missing Moments ❤
All Too Well - Bill Weasley x Reader
A/N: This one is soangsty though. Like holy sh*t. Enjoy!
Song: All Too Well (10 minute version)
Pairing: Bill Weasley x Reader
Warning: Implied *eh hem*, breakup, moving on, “die”
The air was cold as you approached the burrow, walking side by side with Bill. Your y/h scarf was hung loosely over your shoulders, the frayed ends brushing against the wrapped gift in your hands. A smile was spread on your nose, small snow flurries falling around you.
Before Bill could even knock, a short, stout ginger threw the door open, rushing out onto the lawn and throwing her arms around your boyfriend. He laughed, stumbling back a few steps as he wrapped her arms around her.
“Oh, Bill, it’s so good to have you home!” She exclaimed, patting his cheeks gently. Slowly, she turned to you, a toothy smile on her face, “Oh, Bill, I didn’t know you were bringing a guest! Now who is this?”
Your smile fell in that moment, but it was quickly, and forcefully replaced. Extending a hand, you introduced yourself, “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N. Bill’s girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend!” She exclaimed, jumping back in surprise, “Oh, Bill, you should’ve told us! She’s quite a looker, isn’t she?”
A nervous laugh escaped your lips, “You must be Bill’s mum?”
“Oh, forgive me, dear!” She took your hand, shaking it roughly, “I’m Molly Weasley. But you can call me Molly. Or mum. Most of the kid’s friends call me that.”
Bill shook his head, letting out a breathy laugh, “No, they don’t.”
“Well,” Molly sighed, “Let’s get you warmed up inside. No sense in standing out here in the cold when we’ve got a fire going inside. Come on, dear!”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Slipping off your wool coat, you hung it on top of your h/c scarf on a nearby hook. You had handed Bill the wrapped present, which he held to one side as he gave his siblings one armed hugs, grinning from ear to ear.
In the next ten minutes, you were introduced to more people than you knew possible. Bill’s dad, Arthur, was more than entertaining. After finding out that you were a half-bloof, he was asking about your experiences having a muggle as a parent. You had been in Ron’s year in school, so you had already met him and Ginny. And although you had heard of Fred, you hadn’t been properly introduced. As for Percy, it was no wonder you had never spoken a word to him at Hogwarts. He didn’t speak much to anybody he deemed “unworthy of his time”. The Weasley’s appologized that the second oldest Weasley wouldn’t be able to make it.
“Charlie,” They had said, “Is preparing for the birth of a dragon this week, so he won’t be able to make it for Christmas. He should be here to ring in the New Year, though!”
The next thing you knew, you were being ushered over over to the living room. Taking a seat on the long and narrow couch, a large plush book was thrust into your hands. On the front cover, a photograph of the Weasley family was haphazardly pasted on, peeling off at the corners.
The corners of your mouth lifted up as you began flipping through the photo album. You spotted a picture of Arthur and Molly on their wedding day, two rubber duckies topping a lopsided cake. Molly heavily pregnant with her first child–Bill. Soon, your eyes were floating across the pages from Bill’s childhood. He was an only child for two years, then came along Charlie.
One picture caused you to pause. A smiling five year old Bill looked at the camera, his cheeks as red as his hair as snow fell around him. He sported a knit sweater embroidered with a “B” and a red and gold hat hiding his flaming red hair. Looking up at him, you smiled at the similarities, resting your head on his shoulder.
“So, Y/N, tell us about yourself,” Arthur said, “Old Billy hasn’t told us a single thing.”
Swallowing, you forced another smile on your face, “What do you want to know?”
“What do you do for a living?” Molly asked.
George interupted before you could answer, “How’d you meet old Billy here? He’s old enough to be your grandfather!”
“Did you grow up with rubber ducks? How about cars? What was it like to be raised as a muggle?” Arthur questioned, resting his chin on his hand.
Ginny sighed, “What house were you in again?”
“Why are you with Bill? He’s a bit old, don’t you think?” Ron said inbetween bites of chicken.
Percy wrinkled his nose, “What are your views on the Ministry’s newest order?”
Your eyes widened, all the questions hitting you at once. Squeezing Bill’s hand for comfort, you waited for the questions to die out. He smiled down at you, nodding gently.
“Well, Molly, to answer your question, I’m a Keeper for the Kenmare Kestrels. I got the offer as soon as I left Hogwarts. It’ll be my second year playing on the team this June.” You let out the breath you had been holding since the questions had begun, “And, Ginny, I was in y/h. Percy, I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t been keeping up with the Ministry’s policies as well as I should have. I live a pretty busy life, but I’m working on it.”
Continuing, you looked to Arthur, “I grew up around magic. My mother made sure I was introduced to it as a young age. I grew up surrounded by wizards with all of my extended family on my mum’s side. My father’s side knows very little about magic, but he knows the basics and comes to all my Quidditch games with my mum.”
Now, onto the questions you had been avoiding. How the age difference between you and Bill affected your relationship. How you met. The usual questions you were pelted with.
“Bill and I are only nine years apart,” You blurted out, your whole body tense, “It’s not too big of a gap, if you think about it. I’ll be twenty in the new year and he’ll be twenty nine. We both know plenty of people with even larger age differences that have made it work. It’s almost… normal for us. We don’t think about it too much.”
Molly nodded, “Completely get it. You two seem comfortable together.”
“We are,” You said, “We met at one of my Quidditch games, actually. Bill’s friends with one of the Chasers on my team, so he brought him back and introduced him to everyone. We hit it right off the broom.”
“Oh, that’s lovely!” Molly exclaimed, “Isn’t it, Arthur?”
“So, did you guys use rubber ducks often? What’s the function?”
With a glance towards Bill, he silently excused the two of you from the table, “We’ll go ahead and start cleaning up. Take the night off, mum.”
“Are you sure, Bill? I can just wave my wand and-”
He nodded, “We’ve got it. Promise.”
Bill led you into the kitchen by the hand, pressing a kiss to your temple as you breathed, your head spinning.
“Sorry about them,” He sighed, “They can be a bit intense when I bring a girl home.”
You were silent for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, “Why didn’t you tell them about us?”
“I guess it just slipped my mind.”
Brushing the hair out of your face, you looked up at him, “They didn’t even know I was coming, Bill.”
“It was a surprise.”
You shook your head, dropping your gaze. But he simply took your hands in his, waving his wand to turn on a nearby stereo. You recognized it from your dad’s office. He had one set up in the corner, playing old records. The music began and Bill began swaying slowly.
After a few minutes, he was twirling you around the cramped kitchen, causing you to nearly burst out laughing when he nearly knocked over a bag of flower.
“We really should start cleaning up…” You trailed off, your lips mere inches from his.
“It can wait.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
You layed beside Bill on his bed, one of his flannels wrappd around your shoulders. You had packed plenty of clothes for the week, but had insisted on wearing one of his shirts to bed, inhaling the smell of cinnamon.
He rolled onto his side, “Lucky Ginny has a bit of a cold or else mum would have had you sleep in her room.”
“I’m just surprised she didn’t put me in Charlie’s room.”
“His room is a bit embarassing. Dragons everywhere. She wouldn’t want to subject you to that.”
You stifled a laugh, “Oh, I’m sure.”
Bill propped himself up on his elbows, “What do you say we go for a ride?”
“What kind of ride?”
“In the family car.”
You raised a brow, “You know how to drive?”
“We all do. Except for Percy. He refused to learn,” Bill said, raking a hand through his hair, “What do you say?”
“I say yes. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You come the Quidditch playoffs in February.”
Bill nodded, “I’ll work my schedule around it.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Tears streamed down your face, small cries escaping your lips as you sobbed into your pillow. Your heart wasn’t broken- it was shattered.
After joy riding in the Ford Anglia, which led to you and Bill steaming up the windows in the middle of an empty field, you had fully expected him to attend the Quidditch Playoffs. You were being recognized as a star Keeper. It was an honor. And he hadn’t shown. He should have been there. But he wasn’t. And it broke you.
He had sent you an owl, writing “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, emergency at Gringotts.”
But it kept happening.
Bill hadn’t shown up to a single match you had played the whole season. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. You confronted him, asking if he even cared about you or your career. He went silent, explaining that his word didn’t revolve around you.
You left his flat that day, his words repeating in your head, “Maybe if we had been closer in age, it would have worked.”
But within a few months, he had a new girlfriend. A year younger than you. You had tried to ignore it, tried to move on. But you got an owl with a package clumsily tied to it’s talons.
Upon opening it, silent tears flipped down your cheeks. Inside was the golden watch you had given him, the clothes you kept at his flat, and the “promise ring” you had given him. Your father had given your mother one, and you liked the sentiment of it, so you had picked on out especially for him. And now it was in the palm of your head.
You digged deeper in the parcel, looking for the scarf you had accidentally left at his mum’s.
But in small letters, you realized you weren’t getting it back.
“Call the scarf a keepsake.”
You wouldn’t see the scarf again. The chances of you getting it back were about as high as it being wrapped around his new girlfriend’s neck. And that made you want to die.
HP au where Draco starts to spend Christmas holidays at the Burrow and just loves Molly’s jumpers!
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