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The wind howled against the windows panes, outdoing even the ghoul in the attic. I lay with my head on Fred's chest, my eyes open but not focused on anything. Listening to the element creaking the house and Fred's heartbeat.
I tugged the duvet further up, tucking it firmly under my chin to keep the cold at bay, even with the warmth of Fred next to me.
The bedroom door creaked open slowly, George's head poked into the room cautiously before he spotted me. I smiled at him as he waved before wandering.
"You look rough," I whispered as he sat on his bed. He had misplaced his suit jacket, his shirt covered in grass-stains and mud streaked through his hair and on his trousers.
"Nighttime quidditch and firewhiskey make for an interesting combination, thankfully we had weather charms or I'd be an icecube" he sighed, shedding his clothes. I averted my eyes as he changed into pjs, instead studying the patchwork duvet that covered Fred and I,
"What time is it?" I asked, unable to make an accurate judgment due to the snowstorm outside.
"It's 7 in the morning," George replied, crawling into his bed.
"I reckon I'll go get some food then," I said, attempting to get out of bed without waking Fred.
"I'm getting as much sleep as possible," George groaned, placing a pillow over his head.
Laughing softly I managed to reach the floor without rousing my boyfriend.
The floor was freezing and I only wore a T-shirt of Fred's. I grabbed one of his old quidditch jerseys from his dresser before pulling on a pair of my joggers.
My thick knitted socks that Dobby had gifted me last year were tucked in the corner of my trunk so I pulled them on as well.
I padded out the room, closing the door quietly and doing my best to avoid the creaky floorboards.
I made my way downstairs and into the kitchen, quietly putting the battered copper kettle on the stove, although I was doubtful anyone would hear me over the wind.
A peek out the window confirmed that it was blizzarding, I was barely able to see two feet out the window, a sheet of whipping white blocking my vision.
I could hear the water boiling so I took a moment to make a cup of coffee, with plenty of sugar and oat milk. Normal milk just didn't sit right.
Grasping my mug I walked into the lounge where I encountered Mrs Weasley knitting.
"Good morning dear, sleep well?" She said looking up from her work.
"Yes thank you, I didn't know anyone was awake or I would've made you a cuppa as well," I said apologetically,
"No worries, I have my own right here," she smiled.
I took a seat on the couch next to her. Her hands moved incredibly fast as she purled and knotted the yarn. She was knitting an emerald green jumper, a pile of multicoloured jumpers next to her.
"It's amazing how you manage to do this every Christmas! How long does it take you?" I said, making idle conversation as I sipped my coffee.
"I do them all on the week before Christmas, " she smiled, never moving her gaze from the yarn in front of her.
"It's spectacular," I sighed, before leaning into the couch and gazing out the window in contented silence.
After a while the house started to rouse. Doors opened and shut, taps were turned on and off, floorboards creaked and groaned.
"I'll make a start on breakfast," I said, standing up,
"Thank you dear, pans are in the bottom left cupboard," Mrs Weasley said.
I surveyed the kitchen, opening cabinets in search of ideas. My gaze rested on a large bag of self-raising flour. Pancakes....
Grabbing the necessities I mentally calculated the amount of ingredients I'd need. I usually made enough for Pansy and I, I'd need at least five times the amount.
Luckily Molly was used to feeding hoards so she had ingredients in bulk and huge mixing bowls.
I started measuring and sifting flour and sugar into a bowl the size of a large hubcap.
Milk, eggs and vanilla extract followed into the bowl. There were no electric mixers in a wizard household so I grabbed a whisk and starting mixing.
My arm ached after a while, but I was intent on getting perfect batter.
"Look at my little chef," Fred's morning voice drawled from the stairs.
"Morning sleepy," I replied, still mixing.
"You're a very tidy chef," he remarked wrapping his arms around my waist,
"And...?"
Before I could move he'd grabbed a handful of flour and sprinkled it in my hair.
"Oi!" I grabbed a handful of flour and threw it at him, causing a white cloud to billow around the kitchen. "If you're not going to be helpful then leave," I laughed as he shook flour from his hair.
"How may I be of service milady," he said giving me a flour-y kiss.
"Mix this whilst I heat up the frying pan," I directed, grabbing a pancake sized pan from the cupboard.
I lit the stove with the long box of matched and placed butter in the pan.
Fred handed me the batter and I began ladling and flipping the mixture.
20 mins later I had a stack of pancakes to rival the Eiffel Tower.
Almost everyone had made their way downstairs by now, George was the only one missing.
After Bill laid the table and Charlie had fetched condiments we tucked it, the majority of our party still hungover.
"This is really good," Ron exclaimed, stuffing his mouth with as much pancake as he could fit.
"Thank you," I replied.
We had almost finished when someone knocked on the door. We all looked at each other in confusion .
"Did anyone invite anyone else?" Mrs Weasley asked before hurrying to the door.
She opened the door, allowing a gust of icy wind to skitter through the kitchen.
"I'm sorry to bother you but I brought a Christmas present for Freddie,"
I would recognise that voice anywhere and my blood boiled.
"How nice of you, please come in from the cold," Mrs Weasley said, ushering Angelina Johnson into the Burrow.
I locked eyes with George, a grim expression on his face.
"Fred there's someone here for you," Mrs Weasley said, "why don't you two go into the living room whilst I clean up,"
Fred got up slowly, kissing my head reassuringly before walking into the living room, flour still scattered lightly
Mrs Weasley and Fleur cleared the table as I got to my feet and walked over the George, who stood by the doorway to the living room.
"What is she doing here?" I hissed, looking at him.
"No idea, but it cannot be good," he replied,
I heard Angelina giggling from the living room,
"This whole thing is making me uneasy," I murmured, as George placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"Let's go sit it there, we can keep and eye on things," he suggested and we walked into the room.
I realised how much disarray I was in was I saw Angelina. I had bed head, was covered in flour and wore old joggers and Fred's sweater.
Angelina wore a long sleeved white turtleneck under a tight fitting strappy dress. It cling to her like clingfilm and was exceedingly short.
She sat on the couch next to him, her hand resting on the space between them. Her other hand doing that stupid thing with her hair.
"Angie, how lovely to see you," i simpered, pasting a smile on my face, George following behind me.
"Storm... I didn't realize you'd be here," her face dropped, before smirking again as she saw my state of dress, "had a rough morning have we?"
"I was invited to spend Christmas here, I've just spent the morning making breakfast for the family," I smiled coldly, taking a seat in the armchair next to Fred. George perched on the arm,
"She's a bloody great cook," George chimed in,
"How sweet. Where was my invite Freddie?" She batted her eyelashes and placed her hand on my boyfriends thigh.
I felt my fists clench and tried to relax. She wasn't going to rile me up.
"Invites are for partners or close friends," George said stiffly. Fred had a panicked look on his face, torn between being polite to a guest and defending me.
"Aw but we're close aren't we Freddie," she smiled, her hand still on his thigh.
"Uh I'll go get you a cup of tea," Fred coughed awkwardly, leaping to his feet. I followed him into the kitchen.
"What the fuck is she playing at!?" I hissed, as we turned out of sight.
"I don't know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "but I've got to be polite. I'll get her out of here as soon as possible I promise,"
He made a cup of tea and we walked back, as we turned into view of Angelina I grabbed him the neckline of his top. He almost spilt the tea as I kissed him deeply, showing Angelina who his heart belonged too.
He blinked dazedly before smiling and walking back into the living room. He placed the cup of tea in front of her and sat in the armchair I previously occupied.
I sat on the opposite couch where George now lay sprawled, kicking his legs over so I had some space.
"So what're you doing for Christmas?" Angelina cooed, practically hanging over the edge of the couch.
"We're having a family dinner," Fred said, "mums a fabulous cook,"
"That sounds lovely, I'm all alone this Christmas," she pouted.
Unfortunately Mrs Weasley overheard.
"Oh my dear, why don't you spend Christmas here?" She said smiling
My heart dropped, Molly Weasley was too kind.
"That would be lovely, I best head home then and see you tomorrow," Angelina smiled,
"It's horrendous outside, stay the night," Mrs Weasley said peeking her head out the window.
George and I exchanged panicked looks. As Angelina thanked Molly.
"I'm going to go shower," i announced, before hurrying up the stairs after Molly thanked me for breakfast. I grabbed a clean towel before shutting the door behind me and turning the shower on hot.
I stripped off and got into the scalding water, trying to soothe my shaking hands. It was supposed to be a perfect Christmas with the people I loved and instead Johnson was here an ruining everything.
However I was a guest, and I had to stay polite for the Weasley's sake.
A soft knock sounded on the door, and Fred's muffled voice sounded from behind it.
"Storm darling? Are you in here?"
"I'm in the shower Freddie," I replied, closing my eyes and trying to cool my anger. This wasn't his fault. He had no control of the situation.
I heard the door open and shut as the water ran over my closed eyelids and down my body. There was the rustling of a shower curtain and I felt Fred's body next to mine.
"Are you alright?" He asked softly, as I opened my eyes and moved over to let him stand under the hot water.
"I'm fine," I said brusquely, picking up my shampoo.
"I know you don't want Angelina here but mum loves guests and I don't want to cause any problems this Christmas," he said softly, his red hair turning dark brown under the water.
"It's okay," I muttered, my eyes welling up. I struggled to reign in my emotions. I couldn't get the cap of the shampoo off and after a minute I sobbed in frustration.
"Hey.. hey.. it's okay," Fred soothed scooping me into a hug. My head rested against his bare chest as I sobbed, the water running over us washing away my tears.
"I'm sorry," I hiccuped, "everything was so lovely and then she showed up and I don't want to ruin Christmas and I don't want to lose you and-" I choked into against his chest, his arms rubbing my back soothingly.
"It's okay sweetheart, you're not going to lose me. You're stuck with me remember?" He joked, tilting my chin up and kissing me.
I giggled against his lips at his attempt at humour, my tears making our kiss salty.
"It'll be fine, I promise," he soothed, "now turn around so we can get this flour out your hair. You look like a ghost!"
I did as he said, and started to relax as he massaged the foam into my hair, before swapping with me so I could rinse my hair and wash his.
We stayed in the shower for another few minutes, each trying to insult each other. Dissolving into giggles we wrapped ourselves in towels and walked into his room where we stopped dead in our tracks.
"Angie I thought you and Ginny were playing chess?" Fred questioned, she was laid on his bed reading Witch Weekly.
"I got bored, it's a stupid game," she said, shrugging.
"Storm and I need to get dressed..." he gritted out,
"Oh that's fine, don't mind me," Angelina flicked hair over her shoulder, her eyes wandering over Fred's bare torso.
"Fred was trying to be polite, you need to leave so we can change," I snapped, before holding the door open,
"Jesus, tetchy much?" She grouched before getting off of Fred's bed and stalking over.
She placed a hand on his chest before whispering "see you in a bit Freddie," as breezing out.
I turned to my boyfriend,
"Fred...."
"I know," he sighed