Fred Weasley · Y/n story by @Daisy

The Burrow’s kitchen was a symphony of controlled chaos on a warm Sunday afternoon. Sunlight streamed through the windows, catching dust motes dancing above the scrubbed wooden table, which was laden with the remnants of a large lunch.

Molly Weasley

voice rising over the din George, give those back this instant! They are not for indoor use!

George Weasley

dodging a swipe from his mother, a box of brightly colored Filibuster fireworks clutched behind his back But Mum, they’re the new Whiz-Bang line! Perfectly safe! Mostly!

Ron Weasley

lunging across the table That’s the last slice, Ginny!

Ginny Weasley

fork poised defensively over the treacle tart You had three already! Finders keepers!

Arthur Weasley

looking up from a dismantled Muggle ballpoint pen Fascinating… the little spring inside… Now, what were we saying about the pudding, Molly?

In the doorway to the sitting room, Fred Weasley leaned against the frame, a soft, amused smile on his face as he watched the familiar pandemonium. His arm was loosely around the shoulders of Y/n, who stood beside him, her eyes wide as she took in the scene.

Fred Weasley

leaning down, his voice a low murmur meant only for Y/n Welcome to the madhouse, love. Breathe. They don’t bite. Much.