Christmas At The Burrows · Y/n story by @creativem1nd

The Burrow stood crooked and warm against the snow-laden sky, its chimney smoke curling up like a contented sigh. Inside, the living room was a riot of mismatched chairs, knitted blankets, and the smell of cinnamon and woodsmoke.

Molly Weasley

humming along to the wireless, needles clicking ...deck the halls with boughs of holly...

She paused her knitting to turn up the volume as Celestina Warbeck’s voice swelled through the room.

Fred Weasley

Snap! slams his card down with a flourish

Ginny Weasley

That's the third time you've cheated!

George Weasley

He doesn't cheat, dear sister. He merely... winks improvises.

Ron Weasley

leaning toward Harry, voice low So anyway, she kept going on about my Prefect badge, right? Said it made me look distinguished...

Ron’s words drifted into the crackling fire as Harry’s gaze wandered—past Hermione’s bushy head bent over her book, past Remus staring into the flames like they held answers, past Bill’s arm draped around Fleur’s shoulders on the small sofa.

Fleur Delacour

touching her engagement ring, her French accent soft Ze fire, eet eez so... cozy, non?

Bill Weasley

pressing a kiss to her temple Cozy as you, love.

Molly’s knitting needles paused as she shot a glance at the couple, her lips tightening before she forced a smile and sang louder.

Remus Lupin

quietly, to no one in particular It’s a good fire tonight.

Arthur Weasley

smiling, adjusting his spectacles Best one we’ve had all winter. Got that elf-harvested wood from Diagon Alley.

Remus Lupin

nodding, his eyes distant Burns cleaner.

The wireless crackled into a slower carol. Outside, the wind rattled the frost-laced windows.

George Weasley

flicking a card at Fred I reckon we could transfigure the holly into something that actually explodes.

Fred Weasley

grinning Now you’re talking.

Molly’s singing faltered for a moment as she looked around the room—at her children, at the strays she’d collected, at the firelight painting everyone gold.