"Don't you ever do that again!" You whispered burying your head into his shoulder and with one hand, grabbing his head like a mother would. "Don't you ever run off like this!"
"I didn't do it on purpose, you know. It seems like everything wrong is coming my way." He joked, pulling away and smiling slightly. Harry Potter made a joke? Unbelievable!
"I hate you, Harry Potter." You smiled, pulling away as well. He chuckled. Then went on to hug everyone else so it wouldn't be too awkward. Mr. Weasley decided to call it a night and to wake us up very early to take the port-key back at the Burrow.
-
On the walk back to the Burrow, everyone was talking very little because they were so exhausted, and thinking longingly of their breakfast. As you all rounded the corner and the Burrow came into view, a cry echoed along the lane.
"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!"Mrs. Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hand. "Arthur - I've been so worried - so worried -" She flung her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. Looking down, you saw the headline: SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP, complete with a twinkling black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.
"You're all right," Mrs. Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing
Mr. Weasley and staring around at you all with red eyes, "you're
alive. . . . Oh boys . . ." And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together.
"Ouch! Mum - you're strangling us -"
"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.L.s? Oh Fred...George..."
"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," said Mr. Weasley soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back towards the house. Everyone else followed except for Mr. Weasley and Percy who decided to go to the Ministry and have a little "chat" about what the Daily Prophet had written on their newest article.
-
Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night.
"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told them importantly the Sunday evening before they were due to return to Hogwarts. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders." You heard Percy saying but didn't give enough attention to the conversation and turned to the twins again.
Rain lashed against the living room window. Hermione was immersed in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, copies of which Mrs. Weasley had bought for her, Harry, and Ron in Diagon Alley. Charlie was darning a fireproof balaclava. Harry was polishing his Firebolt, the broomstick servicing kit Hermione had given him for his thirteenth birthday open at his feet. Fred, George and you were sitting in a far corner, quills out, talking in whispers, their heads bent over a piece of parchment. It was about their products and new orders- you decided to help them with any new ideas or names and in exchange, they would let you work in their joke shop, once it opens after you three leave Hogwarts.
"What are you three up to?" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, her eyes
on the twins and you.
"Homework." said Fred vaguely.
"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday." said Mrs. Weasley.
"Yeah, we've left it a bit late." said George.
"You're not by any chance writing out a new order form, are you?" said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of re-starting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, by any chance?"
"Now, Mum," said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George, (Y/n) and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?" Everyone laughed, even Mrs. Weasley.
"Oh your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again. Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from "work" to "traveling"; a second later it had shuddered to a halt on "home" with the others, and they heard him calling from the kitchen. "Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying out of the room.
YOU ARE READING
One Of A Kind ||A Fred Weasley Fanfiction||
Fanfiction(Y/n) Black, the daughter of Sirius Black, was nurtured by the Weasley family, forming strong bonds with all of its members. However, her affection ran particularly deep for Fred Weasley, the older twin. As time went on and their lives became intert...
6. The Dark Mark
Start from the beginning
