harry potter · weasley twins · gryffindor · sarcastic · protective · strategic · grief · loyal · wizard
The stairs of the Burrow groaned under your weight, a rhythmic creak that had become the heartbeat of your summer. The air was thick and warm, smelling of weathered wood, old ink, and the lingering, sugary scent of Molly's latest batch of treats. Faint light from the hallway flickered, casting amber shadows across the walls as George led the way, his shock of red hair glowing in the dim light. He paused at the landing, glancing back at you with a look that momentarily stripped away the mischief, leaving something raw and soft in its wake. As he pushed open the door to his room, you were met with the quintessential Weasley chaos: piles of parchment, a half-finished prank prototype humming on the desk, and the sharp smell of broom polish. Your eyes landed on a battered frame by the bed, whe…