Delia - Fred Weasley

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

"Sunshine, do you want a hot chocolate before work?" Fred asked his girlfriend, who was sat on the sofa and wearing a bright yellow sundress, her ginger hair tied up into a messy bun. Her scar was clear, running down the side of her face but Fred barely noticed it. All he noticed was how beautiful she looked as she concentrated on the book in front of her.

"No thanks, I don't really like it anymore," Delia shrugged and Fred's eyebrows furrowed as he left the kitchen, sitting down beside her and she instantly snuggled into his side, staring down at her book.

"But you love hot chocolate? It used to be your favourite drink," Fred pointed out and she frowned.

"I guess I got bored of it," she said. "How long until the shop opens?"

"Half an hour," Fred told her and she smiled contently as he started tracing patterns on her arm. "Some of my friends are coming into the shop today. Remember I told you about it?"

Delia hummed in response her eyes still staring down at the book. It was a muggle book she had bought called Macbeth and Delia thought the muggle interpretation of witches was funny but still slightly insulting.

"What are you reading?" Fred asked her.

"It's a muggle book. It's a script," she told him and he nodded in understanding. "It has a very interesting interpretation of witches. Apparently, witches have beards and we 'look not like th'inhabitants o'th'earth.'"

Delia laughed as she quoted the book and Fred furrowed his eyebrows.

"I don't understand what that means."

"It means that witches look unnatural. They dance around cauldrons and say ridiculous spells that would never mean anything," Delia explained.

"And why do you read that? It sounds boring," Fred asked.

"I think it's funny how inaccurate it is," she told him with a small smile before shutting the book and placing it down on the sofa. She pecked Fred's lips before getting up. "We have a shop to open up."

Delia was happily serving people behind the customers, ignoring her tiredness. She yawned every so often but other than that she managed to smile brightly at the customers, engaging herself in pointless small talk with people she'd probably never see again. Fred and George were busying themselves as they made new posters but Delia didn't mind. She was more than happy to help and serve the customers on her own. The shop was particularly busy, full of young wizards and witches and Delia assumes they were coming to Diagon Alley for school supplies and the mesmerising shop that is Weasley Wizards Wheezes had distracted them. Fred came over, walking behind the counter, his arm wrapping around her waist like it always did and he held up one of the posters.

"What do you think, love?" he asked her and she carefully studied the poster. It was a deep purple with vibrant yellow letters that flashed. She let out a small laugh as she read the words that were written on it.

'Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who? You SHOULD Be Worrying About U-NO-Poo - the Constipation Sensation That's GRIPPING the Nation!'

"It's brilliant," she stood on her toes and placed a soft kiss to his cheek before he smiled, walking off and hanging it up in one of the windows. The bell above the door rang once more and a large group of people walked in. Delia recognised three of them. Molly Weasley followed in Ron and Ginny who was with a young girl with bushy hair and a boy with wild raven hair and round glasses. Molly let out a small squeal running over to Delia and pulling her into a tight hug.

"Delia! It's so wonderful to see you again!" she beamed at her son's girlfriend who smiled up at her.

"It's lovely to see you too, Molly," she said. She saw Fred giving his siblings and their friends a tour of the shop, showing them all of the best products from their Skiving Snackboxes and their Reusable Hangman to their incredibly smart Shield clothing. The Shield clothing ranged from hats to cloaks and Delia thought they were absolutely genius. They shielded the wearer from spells and curses and even the Ministry of Magic had bulk ordered the hats for their workers. "Your sons are brilliant."