Please read, it's very important to the story line. ✔︎ ✔︎ ✔︎ ✔︎ ✔︎ ✔︎ ✔︎ ✔︎ ✔︎ ✔︎ ✔︎ ✔︎ ✔︎
The summer of 1995, going into my fifth year with my best friends Harry, Ron and Hermione. Life has never been a simple thing, especially not for our lot, so, why would this year be any different? Trick question, it wouldn't.
Summer at The Burrow is never a bore, how could it be when there are nine people under the same roof? Not including Bill, Charlie and Purcy. Plus, two of them being George and Fred. The answer, it isn't. I always spend my breaks at The Burrow, since I was eleven years old, meaning I haven't seen my biological parents going on five years now. Every, Easter, birthday, Christmas, every event with the Weasley's, they are my family. But, then why do I still feel so empty?
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As I lay on the bed I find myself starting up into space, thinking of three things, and three things only: sex, drugs and alcohol. The usual three. The lot of us have to leave in half an hour if we want to make it onto the Hogwarts Express on time, which I'm more then sure Molly would greatly appreciate.
I force myself to sit up on my bed when the door opens. I swing my legs over the edge so that my feet are touching the floor. Sighing, I rub my eyes in a frustrating manner as the person enters the dimly lit room. Hermione.
"Get up, get up and fix yourself we have to leave soon," she says, "Honestly." Rolling her eyes. She walks over to her bed and took her suitcase out from under it. It being to early for myself to talk, I watch as the poofy haired girl rants about every topic possible. Hermione looked up at me noteing that I'm still in the same position as before, she threw the piece of clothing she had in her hand down on her bed. She put one hand on her hip and used the other to motion me to get up, "Up. Now, if you want to eat."
I groaned and layer myself down into the same position I was in before, "I'll just get myself something off of the trolly." I responded closing my eyes. Part of my bed sunk down as it would if someone had taken a seat on it.
"If you're not hungry yet, then yes you can get something off the trolly. But, you know Molly's going to want to see you before we part on the platform."
I blew some light air out of my mouth still not opening my eyes, "Give me half an hour to think about it, yeah?" I opened my eyes at the feeling of her getting up. She now stood above and over me, "why hello there." I smirk at her.
"Why must you be so stubborn?" She asked seriously.
"Why must you be such an annoying bitch?" I smiled. Hermione's furrowed eyebrows relaxed and her features softened,
"Touché." She smiled back grabbing a near by pillow and hitting me with it, " Now, get your lazy ass up." With that she walked back over to her bed, grabbed her suitcase and walked out the door.
Groaning, but finally getting up I walked over to our nightstand, I pulled out a pair of underwear and a matching black, lacy bra, one drawer down I pulled out black baggy jeans and one more down a white tank top:
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then I grabbed a sweatshirt, belt, socks and shoes.
I first took off my pajama pants and underwear, I easily slipped on my underwear and jeans, then I reach under my oversized t-shirt and pull it up over my head, lastly, I unclasp my bra. I pick up all of my nightwear and drop it into Ginny's hamper. I watch as they disappear, they should come back in 5 minutes fully washed and dried. I turn to walk back to the dresser.
"Y/n have you–" Ronald Weasley. His eyes darted from mine to my chest, "bloody hell, so that's what they look like?" He asked in a hushed voice.
"Yes Ron, obviously. Now will you get out so I could finish changing?" I could be more surprised, but I wasn't. This isn't the first time a Weasley has walked in on me before, though it was usually Ginny or Hermione who is basically a Weasley along with Harry and I.
"Have you seen Ginny's suitcase? Mum sent me up to get it."
"Hey." I snapped my fingers as to get his attention, "My eyes are up here."
"Yes, I know, but your tits are down there." He responded. I rolled my eyes at his dim-witted boy-like behavior. And he still hasn't looked away.
"Under her bed." He walked into the room, closed the door behind him and walked over to her bed. Her side of the room was completely packed except for a few quidditch posters and her bedding. As I put my bra on he he kneeled down, I put my shirt on, he pulled the bag out.
"Thank you."
"Anytime."
"promise?"
"I will give you, five seconds. Five..." with that the fiery red head darted down the stairs. I ran after him soon after. I had time to put on my socks, belt, shoes and sweatshirt in the time between 1-5.
Once I had made it down the stairs I looked over to my left to see an out of breath Ron Weasley. I walked over to him and hit him hard on the back of his head.
"Ow, Bitch!" He yelled.
"Ronald Bilius Weasley, what have I told you about cussing?!" Molly yelled from the kitchen. I smiled at the boy and made my way to the sofa.
"Worth it." He said thinking no one would hear. I shook my head at how idiotic one person could be, but the smile still remains on my face.
"What's worth what Ron?" Asked an oh to familiar voice, George Fabian Weasley.
"N-Nothing." And then the other;
"Tell me George, why don't I believe him?"
"Well, Fred, it could be the way he stuttered."
"Indeed, say George, could it possible also be the redness in his cheeks?"
"Most definitely, oh, and who could forget the shake it his knees." The two identical boys laughed.
As intimidating as the 6'3 gingers were, I could always see past it, nothing more then an act. For George at least, George was a big softie. Like a Teddy bear, cute and cuddly, whether he wanted anyone to know or not.
It was another story for Fred, he was the one you needed to worry about. His addiction was to mischief and all things he would call fun: pranks, jokes etc. we were similar in that way. He had that never ending thirst for mischief, making him—unpredictable. He was truly the intimidating Weasley out of the lot, if there even was one. Then there was me, and my addictions: alcohol, medication, sex. Our addiction was different, but they were addictions nonetheless. His mischief, crazy and unpredictable mixed with my sex, drugs and alcohol, did it mix well? I guess we're just going to have to find out. I know mine is the same as Draco's, SEX, ALCOHOL AND DRUGS. The usual.
