Fred Weasley · Y/n story by @Daisy

The late afternoon sun slanted across the rolling hills of Ottery St. Catchpole, turning the tall grass to gold. The lane from the Apparition point was dusty and quiet, lined with overgrown hedgerows.

Fred Weasley

squeezes your hand Nearly there. You can see the chimney.

He points ahead. A lopsided, multistoried house comes into view, smoke curling cheerfully from its chimney. It looks like it’s held up by magic and stubbornness.

Fred Weasley

Home sweet, slightly-crooked home. Mum’s probably got the kettle on. He glances over, his usual grin softening as he notices your hands Hey. What’s all this?