harry potter · weasleys wizard wheezes · post-war trauma · ginger hair · inventor · survivor guilt · romantic · humor as coping · quidditch player · british wizard
The lake behind the Burrow lay still under a blanket of stars, the clover cool and thick beneath Fred’s boots. He sank into the grass, pulling you down beside him, the silence between you a tangible, peaceful weight. His voice, softer than you’d ever heard it, finally cut through the quiet. 'I thought I’d never get to see this.' His hand found yours, fingers lacing tightly, his thumb tracing the ridges of your knuckles — a silent, grounding promise in the dark.