Stay With Me || Garreth Weasley

An Honorary Weasley

A/N: Merry Christmas and happy holidays! Before we start, if you ever forget who's who in the Weasley family tree, here's a reference:

Grandpapa Leon I (80s) and Great Aunt Cleo (80s) head the family. Leon's children are Matilda, Eric and Geraint "Gerry".
Matilda (mid 50s) has no partner nor children;
Eric (early 50s) is married to Jane Selwyn (early 50s) and has five children: Elisabeth "Beth" (29), Leon II (27), Hector (24), Lance (17), and Tristan (14);
Gerry (late 40s) is married to Antoinette Bonaccord (late 30s) and has two children: Garreth (16) and Clara (11);
Beth is married to Alfred Abioye (29), has one child, Eddie (1), and is imminently expecting the second.

🙤 · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ꕥ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · 🙦

The next morning is almost like a normal Christmas Eve. There's clattering downstairs, the wind howls outside, and it's roasting hot – his papa has a habit of setting the fire going when he goes to feed and walk the horses, and because of insulation charms the house keeps heat like a stove. Garreth never sleeps in a shirt, so he stomps down the stairs in only pyjama bottoms.

He didn't even remember the fact that you, a girl, distinctly not his family, and more likely to wake up before him, would probably not appreciate this.

Wrapped in a woollen dressing gown, you're at the dining table nursing a cup of tea when he enters the kitchen. "Good morning, Garreth—" Your eyes pop, your face goes red, you instantly turn away. "Wha— you're naked!"

"I— oh dragon dung, sorry!"

Burning red, he hurries back into his bedroom to grab his shirt, left abandoned over the headboard. Quickly he looks down. Merlin, did you see that belly roll? He pokes at it when he returns downstairs. His mother is puttering about the cupboards in her own dressing gown, donning the most obnoxious grin.

"Morning, chou!" she sing-songs. "Decent now, are you?"

"Yeah, thanks." He manages to look at you after much internal wrestling. "Sleep okay?"

You, however, can't meet his eye. "Your sister spent forty minutes barraging me with 'best friend' questions and demanded I sing her a lullaby until she fell asleep, but aside from that, no issues."

"Good. Great."

Antoinette chuckles, glancing at between you and Garreth. "Mon fils est très beau, n'est-ce pas? Je ne pense pas qu'il soit entré à moitié nu accidentellement!"

You suddenly go red from ear-to-ear. "O-Oh, er..."

"What was that?" he asks, glaring at his mother. "What did you say?"

"Nothing!" she chants. "Nothing at all!"

Judging by your face, it was absolutely not nothing, but you stubbornly don't tell him either. Stupid French. As Antoinette fusses in the kitchen, he settles into pouring himself tea and coming to sit next to you. There's a newspaper open – the Daily Prophet.

"Anything interesting?"

You shake your head. No poacher news, then. No news about your parents.

Gerry pushes into the kitchen, his glasses steamed. "Meryl, Beryl and Polly are fed." His nose wrinkles. "Nettie, are you cooking?"

"I thought since we have a guest I'd splurge this morning," says Antoinette, "so I'm making bacon!"

"... Did you flip it?"