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◄✩༄*∗"Go shag your bimbo cauldrons, Perce."∗*༄✩►
☼
◄✩༄*∗Baby, I'd give up anything
to travel inside your mind,
Baby, I fall in love again
come every summertime∗*༄✩►
— Every Summertime | NIKI
【 ✧ ☾⋆☼⋆☽ ✧ 】
IT WAS FIVE-THIRTY IN THE AFTERNOON when Mr. Weasley, Ron, Fred, and George finally headed for Harry's (which was thirty minutes past when they'd planned to), and Hermione and Y/N collapsed on the age-old maroon couch after helping Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, and Ginny clean up the Burrow for Harry's arrival. Mrs. Weasley had put them to work: scrubbing the floors, dusting every surface, making up Harry's bed in Ron's room . . . for a smaller house, it was a load of work. Especially for just Harry. You'd think he was a celebrity or something. At least, around them. Y/N was sure he'd prefer the mess of a lived-in house but alas, it were the Weasley's place and they were at perfect liberty to show off their place however they'd like, and to whomever.
Y/N, however, was only a pinch salty about the difference in treatment around here.
But Harry was Harry, and Harry didn't have a good family. It only made sense for the Weasleys to give him special treatment, because he hadn't received much his whole life. Hypocritically, Y/N treated him a little bit more affectionately than she did with Ron or Hermione. Then again, she believed that Harry and she shared a different bond. One a little bit more intimate.
It might've been because they were both very affectionate people, but she didn't care enough to elaborate. Or think too hard about it—she might start getting ideas.
Bad ideas.
So, Y/N resorted to changing into a pair of shorts after getting too hot, and she tied her hair up out of her face from the heat. A pitcher topped her lemonade, refilling it once more after she'd downed the first refill before floating off to the kitchen.
"Did you get all your summer homework done?" Hermione asked, fanning herself in the heat. She, too, had changed in the heat, borrowing one of Y/N's tanks and a pair of sweat shorts. She sat on the far side of the couch by the freshly-scrubbed window, which had been cracked open to let some cool air in. A lemony-pine scent doused the air around them, evidence of a few hours' of work. Hopefully it wouldn't hang around for too long.
Y/N barked out a laugh, giggling as Hermione complained about her making fun of her.
"Sorry!" Y/N snickered, holding her stomach. "I just—I'm not really concerned about homework right now. More like the Quidditch World Cup?"
