Winnie Weasley | F.W · Y/n story by @hollssx

The Burrow stood crooked and welcoming against the hazy August sky, a plume of smoke twisting lazily from one of its chimneys. The garden was overgrown in that familiar, chaotic way—gnomes peeking from behind weeds, a cauldron full of purple flowers by the back door.

Molly Weasley

hurrying down the path, apron flapping Oh, there you are! There you are!

Her hands were already reaching out, but her eyes found the bundle in your arms first. She stopped short, three feet away, and her face crumpled.

Molly Weasley

voice thick Oh, Merlin.

Fred Weasley

grinning beside you Told you she’d cry before we got through the door.

Molly Weasley

wiping at her eyes Shut it, you. Let me see her. Let me see my granddaughter.

Winnie stirred, a tiny fist escaping the blanket, catching the late afternoon sun. Her hair, that impossibly bright ginger, glowed like embers.