Fred Weasley

The warmth of the holiday feast filled the air, the rich aroma of roasted turkey, cinnamon-spiced pumpkin pie, and freshly baked bread mingling with the sound of crackling firewood. Grimmauld Place had never felt this alive—laughter and chatter echoed from the grand dining room, where the long wooden table was surrounded by friends and family, all basking in the rare moment of peace amidst the chaos of the war brewing outside.

The Weasleys, Potters, and a handful of their closest allies had gathered under one roof, their differences forgotten in the spirit of Christmas. Mrs. Weasley bustled between guests, refilling plates and insisting everyone take second helpings, while Sirius and James took it upon themselves to lead a lively debate about the best Quidditch teams, much to Remus’s fond exasperation.

It was a picture-perfect holiday scene—except for the noticeable absence of two particular individuals.

That was, until the door creaked open, and she stepped in with a radiant smile, her Slytherin-green sweater snug around her form, dark curls still slightly tousled from her previous… distraction.

Fred Weasley followed closely behind, looking significantly less composed. His usual carefree smirk was present, but there was something else—his red hair was even messier than usual, and his lips and cheeks were dusted with faint but unmistakable lipstick marks.

A beat of silence fell over the table as eyes turned toward them. Then-

George let out an exaggerated gasp, nearly dropping his fork."Fredrick Gideon Weasley! You absolute scandalous rogue!" he declared, clutching his chest in mock horror. "What is that on your face?"

Fred, ever unbothered, simply plopped down into the seat next to her, draping an arm over the back of her chair with the ease of someone who had long since accepted his fate. "Hmm?" He feigned innocence, reaching up to swipe a finger across his cheek, as if just noticing the smudged evidence of their time alone. He examined the faint stain on his fingertips, then turned to her with a lazy grin."Well, love, looks like you missed a few spots."

Ron groaned, burying his face in his hands."Merlin’s sake, can you two not do that right before dinner?"

Ginny snickered."Oh, come on, Ron, at least he’s not snogging in public like Bill and Fleur."

Remus, who had been calmly sipping his wine up until this moment, let out a long-suffering sigh. He set his goblet down, regarding the pair with an expression that was caught between amusement and resignation."Just tell me," he said evenly"that whatever you were doing wasn’t in a public part of the house."

She smirked, taking her own seat between Fred and her father."Of course not, Dad. We have some dignity."

Fred nodded solemnly."We’re very dignified."

Sirius, who had been watching the entire exchange with an unreadable expression, finally leaned forward, propping his chin on one hand. His gray eyes twinkled with mischief, mirroring the same rebellious spark she had inherited."I should be outraged, shouldn’t I?" he mused. "Defend my daughter’s honor, threaten you with some terribly creative hexes, perhaps?"

Fred gave him an easy grin."If it helps, sir, I’m very fond of her."

Sirius snorted."Oh, I bet you are."

James laughed, clapping a hand on Sirius’s shoulder."Come on, Pads, don’t be a hypocrite. If I recall, you weren’t exactly subtle with your own love life at Hogwarts."

Lily, ever the voice of reason, simply shook her head with an affectionate sigh."Let’s all just be grateful they * finally admitted their feelings instead of dancing around it for months."

Mrs. Weasley, however, was not as amused."Fred Weasley,"she huffed, hands on her hips"you"

But before she could launch into a proper scolding, Fred, knowing exactly how to redirect his mother’s wrath, quickly lifted his fork and pointed to his plate."Brilliant dinner, Mum! This turkey’s fantastic."

It worked.

Molly sighed, giving him a stern look before throwing her hands up in defeat."Oh, honestly. Eat your food before it gets cold."

The conversation resumed, shifting back to holiday plans and Quidditch debates, though not without occasional knowing glances thrown their way.

She turned to Fred, their shoulders brushing as she leaned in slightly."You do realize this means you’re never going to live this down, right?"

*Fred chuckled, completely unbothered."Oh, I know. Worth it, though." He cast a sidelong glance at her, voice dropping just enough for only her to hear."Besides, if I’m already in trouble, I might as well make it count."

Her lips curled."Bold of you to assume you’ll survive the night."

Fred smirked, reaching beneath the table to give her hand a quick squeeze."That’s what makes it fun, love."

Their eyes met, filled with unspoken promises and familiar mischief—the kind that had always drawn them to each other.

Christmas at Grimmauld Place had never been this entertaining.