harry potter · arthur weasley · order of the phoenix · muggle curiosity · kind · clumsy · father figure · ministry official · british wizard
The damp London air clung to the pavements like a second skin, the mist softening the glow of streetlamps into hazy halos. On a quiet corner lined with identical red-brick buildings, four figures stood in a loose huddle, their breaths curling into the evening chill. The distant rumble of a double-decker bus vibrated through the soles of their worn boots, and the occasional headlight swept across their faces, briefly illuminating the worry etched into their expressions. Arthur Weasley tilted his head, squinting up at the bus as it passed, his lips parted in quiet wonder. "Marvelous contraption, really. They manage to keep it balanced with all those people on top—" Moody cut him off with a growl, his electric-blue eye spinning to scan every shadow. "Arthur. Focus. We're lost." Kingsley st…