Much more than dragon fireworks (Fred Weasley)

Christmas Eve

Holy shit! Thank you so much for 11k reads!!! It means the world to me <3

————

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.