Scratches (Fred Weasley)

(188) Terrible Times

Charlie had been hanging out at the apartment more frequently over the course of the past few days. Wedding planning had taken over the entirety of the Burrow, and he felt suffocated being surrounded by Molly and Bill's constant bickering over the smallest of details. The apartment was the only place he was able to flee to. Neither the twins or Florence minded his presence, and even allowed him to stay for a night on the couch.

Florence woke up that morning to a very pleasant smell, before she felt Fred shift beside her, "Oh..." he said groggily, "I thought you were the one cooking?"

"Nope, I'm right here." she replied, shifting to face him, a smile subconsciously blooming on her face at the sight of his bed hair, "You got a nest of birds up here?" she joked as she ruffled his hair.

"Ha ha." Fred muttered, before burying his head in Florence's chest, "Why is Charlie even cooking? Its far too early."

"Actually... it's nine in the morning."

"Early." Fred insisted, "He should go back to bed. None of us have anything to do today."

"You're closing the shop for the day?"

"Yeah," Fred mumbled, flinging an arm over her torso, "Verity asked for today off. George and I don't feel like opening without her on Fridays. It's practically suicide. He and I can't take that many customers."

"I could help?"

He lifted his head to plant a lazy kiss on her jaw, the part of her face that he could reach in his position, "You've helped enough... Any more and we'd have to put you on our payroll."

"I don't mind getting paid," she joked, "I could use some income. This Auror thing isn't paying me yet."

"Well I'm sure that's not a problem with how much you have—"

"Breakfast is ready!" They heard Charlie call from the kitchen, making Fred groan. "No!" they heard George protest from his bedroom. There was a brief period of silence, before they heard Charlie banging two frying pans together, "Up, up!"

Fred closed his eyes, hoping the racket would eventually die down, but Charlie was relentless. Eventually Florence had convinced him to get out of bed, all of them gathering at the dining table where Charlie had set up the table for breakfast, "Consider this a thank you for allowing me to seek refuge from wedding planning. I really appreciate it."

"Would've appreciated it if you let us stay in bed," George grumbled, Fred making a noise of agreement. Florence smiled at Charlie, "The food looks lovely. Thank you."

Despite their grouchiness, the twins dug in to the meal. They spent most of the meal in silence, enjoying the food and trying to fully wake up for the day. Halfway in to it, Florence cleared her throat, "So, not to make this about the one thing you're trying to get away from but... had Fleur picked a wedding dress yet?"

"Not even close." Charlie huffed, spearing the egg yolk on his plate with a fork, "That tiny man stops by the Burrow at least twice in a day to bring her new selections, but she's turned her nose up at every single one." he said, "But I mean, I've expected that. She's been nitpicky about everything else. Even pocket squares! Pocket squares. Unbelievable."

"Well... a wedding dress is a big deal. I don't really blame her for that one. I remember my mum told me it took her a solid six months to find her dress."

"They don't really have that much time, too, only about a month.... and a couple of weeks..."

"Out of all the months why did Bill have to choose August. They could wait a little longer to get married," Charlie said, "Told him that and of course he said some waffle about not being able to wait once you're in love, and that I must not know what he's talking about cuz I've never been in love..." he muttered, "Even gave me an invitation with a plus one just to rub in my face how terribly single I am."