Falling For

It was only the beginning of the summer when George invited me over to his childhood home for lunch. Sure, we were living together and all, but it felt different going to the Burrow. It felt like I was intruding, as everyone seemed so together and I felt so out of place. It was a house full of gingers all scrabbling around the place like a pack of wild weasels, which in essence I assume that was the point. I always felt like I was trespassing on Molly Weasley’s lovely house - the looming painted-lady wobbling in the wind of Ottery St. Catchpole seeming more intense and intimidating than it really was.

Standing in the small kitchen, I held the warm tin to my chest as I greeted Molly with an even warmer smile. The woman was amazing, so lovely and honest and so in control of the raving house that she had to run single-handedly. I looked up to her and her ability to control a box full of almost ridiculous boys. Sometimes I could not handle George’s humour, let alone his brother’s as well. Combine that with three other boys (one dragon tamer, one Egyptian dweller and one right-hand-man to the Boy Who Lived) and a teenage girl (also a resident 'strong woman' and one of my true heroes), she was a domestic warrior in my mind.

So, it was right to assume that I was always nervous around her, even though it was running on three years of dating one of her sons. I don’t know why I couldn’t speak properly in front of her, it seriously made no sense. However, I managed to shake Arthur’s hand confidently, straightening out the tin like an offering to the gods and presented it to them with a worshipping semi-bow of awkward.

“I made biscuits. I didn’t know if I should bring anything, or just leave it.” I stumbled, passing the tray to Molly (who was smiling at me, thank Merlin) who put it down on the table. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Right, dear. Thank you.” She beamed at me “You didn’t have to bring anything though.”

“Oh, it’s um, endless.” I burst out. “Not really endless, but I charmed the tin into becoming endless, but there’s about seven batches in there. I got bored, I--” I laughed apprehensively, "I'm so sorry."

George threw his arm around me.

“She’s nervous.” He shrugged at his mother, who looked sympathetically at me. Mr. Weasley burst out into a grin and shook his head.

I was fine around Arthur, considering that I worked as an intern in his office at the ministry. It was a pretty mindless job, just filing out ‘jinxed inanimates’ forms, which was basically writing about rogue household appliances. My latest form was about a confused washing machine that attacked a muggle houseguest.

“No need to be nervous, dear." There it was again, that same reassuring smile that told me that she didn't think I was stupid. "I’m sure the boys will love the biscuits -- we all love chocolate.”

And so the afternoon went on without a hitch. I watched as the Weasley family interacted around me, Bill and Fleur murmuring plans about the wedding in the lulled silence that followed after one of the twins’ jokes. It was lovely to see them all together again, now that Fred and George were moved out and the two younger ones were home from school. Their older brother, Bill, had moved in temporarily with his fiancé Fleur (the useless one) while they prepared to get married later that summer. The second eldest, Charlie, was also home. I’d never had the pleasure of meeting him, but what I had gathered was that his life was based around dragons.

Also, Percy hadn’t shown up, which wasn’t exactly a surprise, but it still turned Molly a little bitter as time passed.

Fleur had started a simple conversation with me, her accent thick but nothing I couldn’t handle after spending much time with Noël. She chatted avidly about wedding preparations; something of which I was actually interested in at the time, seeing as all that was on my mind was work, food and the inevitable marriage of George and I. She talked about the catering, the colour scheme and the tiara that Mrs. Weasley had promised the year before when Bill was attacked by a werewolf.

“I still have to find my dress.” Breathing deeply, she sighed awkwardly before smiling at me. “My mother said that we will go and look in Paris when she gets back from her vacation in Holland.” She added proudly, brightening at the thought. My face softened and I grinned along with her.

“I’m sure it will be beautiful.” I smiled at her, taking a mouthful of Molly Weasley’s incredible food. “I think the entire wedding will be beautiful. I can’t imagine it not being beautiful, actually.”

She laughed happily, almost overjoyed at my words until she stopped, taking a long look at me. My grin faded quickly and her face almost mollified while she thought about something she had just figured.

“You were friends with Cedric.” She finally spoke and I recoiled, finding it hard to keep chewing at an unsuspicious pace. “You danced at the ball.”

“Yeah.” I nodded awkwardly. "We did."

“He was really nice.” She added, and turned my gaze to the embroidered tablecloth. It sounds cliché, but the memories had built up in my brain and burst through my senses instantly.

They had been cooped up for so long that they were tired; stretching their sore limbs and shrieking with yawns in my tiny, aching brain, they made it impossible to hear whatever noise was going on around me. I pressed the bridge of my nose between my forefinger and thumb, closing my eyes for a moment to stop the momentum that had started to swing in the pit of my stomach.

“Yes, he was brilliant.” I added, breaking away from my collapse to sit up straight. “To be honest, I hadn’t actually thought about him for awhile. Excuse me, I’m sorry.” I blinked, apologising quietly. I watched her bite her lip in a mournful curiosity, curling the ends of her white-blond hair with her petite fingers.



Fleur had captured me when everyone had spread out around the house, sitting at the now smaller kitchen table after George had kissed me on the head to go talk to Ron and Ginny. She took my hand in her own, our pallid skin blending together to form a white pallet tipped with mismatched nails.

“This war, Mignon,” her pronunciation of my name was even more beautiful than when Noël spoke it, “are you not scared?”

“I’ve never really thought about it.” I stuttered as she grilled me. “I’ve only really been thinking of myself.” Admitting it out loud took me back a few figurative steps.

I had been reading the Daily Prophet, seeing the deaths and dark wizards escaping Azkaban, but it hadn’t been registering. The twins would stay up late talking quietly in the lounge while I fell asleep in my love’s sheets, but their topics always came back to the same thing - what would become of us if it all ended? I didn’t know. I didn’t want to think about it.

“It’s easy to get caught in trivial things.” She told me, her hand in mine almost cold. “I know, I’ve fallen into the same routine. My wedding,” she whispered “it’s coming at the wrong time but when will the right time ever come? I love Bill very much, but I get worried that one night he won’t come home from their meetings.”

George often went to those meetings, I thought to myself. She was planting seeds of doubt into my mind and this caused me to close my eyes once again. The recurrence of Cedric’s tragedy pursued my mind as the reality of it all sunk in. Maybe she wasn’t as useless as I thought.

“I know he’s not silly enough to get himself killed, but I worry.” She finished. “How long have you been dating George?”

“About three and a half years now.” I mumbled. “He and Fred are inseparable, they’ll never let each other get hurt.”

“That is all well, but what about you?”

“What about me?” I frowned, staring at her. In thought, I looked past her head to see Ginny laughing at something the twins had said, Ron looking red-faced with a handful of my cooking. Fred caught my eye, waving at me.

“Terrific biscuits, Min!” He called from across the house, making me genuinely smile. Fleur turned around to see all the commotion, giving me time to mouth ‘HELP ME’ in the general direction of the redheaded pack in the living room. “Hey Min, come here for a second.”

Excusing myself from the harsh-worded French girl, I slid over to a fraction of the Weasley family and hid under George’s arm.

“Thank you so much.” I muttered at Fred and he smirked.

“Anything for my sister-in-law.” He pointed at me jokingly, Ginny suddenly brightening.

“To be honest,” she whispered “it would make more sense for you and George to get married than Bill and Phlegm.” She shrugged at me and I smiled quietly under his arm. George scoffed, taking a baked circle from the tin Ron was holding.

“There’s nothing wrong with Fleur.” Ron huffed and all four of us looked at him, his ears suddenly growing red. I pitied him for a moment and then exhaled.

“She’s not as bad as everyone makes her out to be. She’s just a little brash. And scary.” I sighed. “But I’m glad you like the biscuits, Fred, I’ll make some more when we get home.”

“By the end of the year I’m going to be the size of the Friar.” He answered me. “All she does is bake.” He looked at Ron and Ginny. “Continuously. We’ve even left them on the shop counter hoping people will take them because there’s so many sweets lying around our apartment.”

“No one ever does.” George added. “They probably think they’re jinxed.”

“Well look at what you sell.” I scoffed at them. “The last time I ate something you guys left lying around I ended up with furry forearms.”

“And we’re sorry for that.” They both laughed at me and I looked up uneasily at George. Ginny laughed at me and I rolled my eyes, hugging my own body and shifting to get comfortable under his arm. “But seriously,” Fred finally said, rubbing his stomach dramatically even though he had a massive grin on his freckled face “no more baking, I’ve gotten a little plump.”

We all laughed at him and I looked at the floor with a smile on my face.

I adored Fred most of the time, when he wasn’t bringing random girls home or teasing me about my hormonal issues. He proved to be a really genuine friend to me in the last few months he was alive. Both the boys, when alone with just me, were lovely. But, you could see how they changed in the limelight of family or shop life, something brighter, more hilarious, more full-blown non-stop action that burst around wherever they were, and spreading to the faces of everyone around.

The twins were a complicated pair though, I can tell you that with no fault whatsoever. Behind the scenes they were a lot gentler and soft-spoken, proper businessmen and more than satisfactory lovers. Having shared each other since birth, the two of them were connected in such a way that it was indescribable - something pure and genuine, like a higher form of love. Their book had such a flamboyant cover but the verses inside were so incredibly poetic.