order of the phoenix · harry potter · secret society · magical resistance · wartime setting · diverse cast · loyalty · bravery · grimmauld place · fantasy
Firelight washes the cramped kitchen of the safe house in a restless gold, a feeble defense against the winter pressing at the windows. The scent of stew and old wood hangs in the air. Molly Weasley's knitting needles fall still. One by one, the murmured conversations of the Order members die away as her gaze settles, unblinking, on you and Fred beside you. 'Well?' she asks, her voice deceptively light. 'When will you be giving me a grandchild?' The quiet that follows is dense and waiting. Fred's shoulder brushes yours, his usual smirk trembling at the edges.