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The Burrow
Village of Ottery St Catchpole
- Devon, England
( July, 1995. )

          𝑻he morning sunlight streamed into the Burrow's kitchen, casting a warm glow over the table where the Weasley family and their guests were gathered for breakfast. Plates of eggs, toast, sausages, and Molly's famous pancakes were piled high, and the smell of freshly brewed tea filled the air. It was a typical cozy Weasley morning—except for the four teens desperately trying to mask their hangovers.

Fred, George, Olympia, and Cassie sat together, slouched slightly in their chairs, their faces pale and their movements sluggish. Fred poked at his eggs with a fork like they were an unsolvable mystery, while George cradled his cup of coffee like it was his lifeline. Olympia had propped her chin on her hand, staring at her plate with a glazed-over expression, and Cassie was nursing a glass of water as though it contained the answer to all her problems.

Across the table, Percy sipped his tea, his sharp gaze flicking from his brothers to the Harrington sisters. His lips twitched upward slightly, the barest hint of a smirk forming as realization dawned. He didn't say anything, but he recognized the signs immediately: bloodshot eyes, too-pale faces, and that peculiar way they avoided sudden movements. It was the same look he and Atlas used to sport after their late-night drinking escapades during their teenage years.

Molly, bustling around the kitchen, didn't seem to notice. She dropped a plate of pancakes in the center of the table and turned to Fred and George. "You two look like you didn't sleep a wink last night," she said, her tone half-scolding. "What were you up to?"

Fred, visibly struggling to form a coherent response, blurted out, "Uh... we were—"

"Reading," George interjected quickly, though the slight wince on his face betrayed the pounding headache behind his calm demeanor. "Studying up on some, uh, charm work. McGonagall gave us a summer reading."

Olympia stifled a groan, which she quickly disguised as a cough, while Cassie kept her head down, pretending to butter her toast.

Molly frowned slightly but seemed satisfied with the explanation. "Well, you should've gone to bed earlier. You'll ruin your health staying up like that."

"Absolutely," Fred said, nodding vigorously, though the motion made him regret it immediately.

As the conversation shifted to Ginny teasing Ron about his messy hair, Percy leaned back in his chair, his tea cup hiding the amused smirk on his lips. He watched the twins with quiet amusement, his eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of knowing exactly what had caused their current state. He took a slow sip of his tea and let out a soft chuckle, one that barely escaped the rim of his cup.

George, already on edge, shot him a sharp look. "What's so funny, Percy?"

Percy lowered his cup, his expression the picture of innocence. "Oh, nothing. Just enjoying my tea."

Fred narrowed his eyes, catching the barely-contained grin on Percy's face. "Right. Sure you are."

As Molly turned her attention to a pot of tea on the counter, Percy leaned slightly toward the twins, his voice low enough that only they—and the girls—could hear. "You two might want to work on your poker faces...and your excuses."

Olympia gave Percy a sideways glare, muttering, "We're fine, thanks."

Cassie, struggling to keep her expression neutral, bit into a piece of toast to avoid saying anything incriminating. George, however, wasn't as composed. Under the table, he lashed out with his foot, kicking Percy square in the shin.

Percy didn't flinch. He merely sipped his tea again, the smallest of grins tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The rest of breakfast passed without further incident, the conversation drifting to Arthur's excitement over a new Muggle toaster he'd brought home from work and Ron complaining about having to degnome the garden later. Every so often, Percy would glance at the four of them and chuckle quietly, his amusement never waning.

By the time breakfast was over, the four teens slumped back in their chairs, feeling equal parts relieved and exhausted. As Molly bustled about clearing plates, Percy leaned over to Fred and whispered, "Next time, hydrate before bed. Makes the mornings much easier."

Fred scowled but said nothing, while George muttered under his breath, "Bloody git."

Olympia and Cassie exchanged glances, their lips twitching with suppressed laughter. Despite their shared misery, they couldn't help but find the whole situation absurdly funny. If nothing else, it was a morning they wouldn't soon forget.

                   𝑻he twins' room was its usual mess of controlled chaos: papers scattered on every surface, an assortment of prank items littering the floor, and an old Muggle radio humming faintly in the background. Olympia sat at the desk, sleeves rolled up, diligently stirring a cauldron bubbling with bright red liquid. The air smelled sharp and medicinal, mixed with an undertone of mint.

Fred and Cassie were sprawled on Fred's bed, limbs tangled in a way that could easily be misinterpreted as romantic by anyone who didn't know them. Cassie rested her head on Fred's chest, one arm lazily draped across his stomach, while Fred absently toyed with the end of her hair. Their closeness wasn't born of attraction but of a friendship so deep it felt like they were extensions of the same person. They had been inseparable for years, their bond one of easy intimacy and unspoken understanding.

The two never shared an ounce of romance, yet were entirely one another's soulmate: platonic soulmate if you will.

On the other bed, George lay flat on his back, arm draped over his eyes as he groaned dramatically. "How long is this potion going to take, Harrington? I feel like death."

"Then maybe don't drink half a bottle of Firewhisky and decide to play chicken rodeo in your garden," Olympia muttered, her wand deftly stirring the potion while she measured out a final ingredient.

Cassie smirked, not lifting her head from Fred's chest. "It's true. You two are disasters."

Fred sighed, dramatically throwing his free arm over his face. "Flawless disasters, thank you very much."

"You keep telling yourself that," Olympia said, rolling her eyes. "But if you two drag us into another chaotic night like that, I'm hexing you both."

George groaned again, peeking out from under his arm. "We're sorry, alright? You don't have to be so mean while we're suffering."

"You're lucky I'm nice enough to brew this at all," Olympia shot back, pulling the cauldron off the heat. The potion let out a faint puff of minty steam as she grabbed four mismatched goblets from the desk.

Cassie peeked up, grimacing. "Please tell me it tastes better than it smells."

"It doesn't," Olympia said flatly, ladling the potion into the goblets and handing them out. "It tastes like regret. Now take it like a shot and stop whining."

The four exchanged grimaces before raising their goblets. George muttered, "To bad decisions."

Fred smirked. "And flawless disasters."

They clinked their goblets in an exaggerated toast before downing the potion in one go. Almost immediately, their faces contorted in disgust.

George coughed, his voice raspy. "It's worse than bad decisions—it tastes like regret and wet socks."

Cassie gagged, shaking her head. "Why does it feel like my tongue is dying?"

Fred shuddered, clutching his chest. "I think my soul left my body."

Olympia rolled her eyes, setting the empty goblets aside. "You're welcome."

George sat up slightly, his face still twisted from the taste. "Place the chair under the doorknob," he said, gesturing toward the desk chair.

Olympia quirked an eyebrow but complied, dragging the chair across the floor and wedging it under the doorknob. When she turned back, George had thrown open the blanket draped over him, his arms extended invitingly.

"Come here," he said with a soft smile, his voice warm and familiar.

She didn't hesitate, crawling into his arms and settling against his chest. The blanket wrapped snugly around them as his chin rested gently on the top of her head. For a moment, the world felt a little less chaotic.

"If you two start snogging, Cassie and I will jump you," Fred grumbled, rolling onto his side and throwing an arm over Cassie like she was a human-sized teddy bear.

Cassie smirked, nudging Fred's shoulder. "It's a good warning. I don't need to see that."

Olympia laughed softly, tilting her head to look at George. "They're just jealous."

Fred grunted, already half-asleep, his voice thick with the haze of impending sleep. "Not jealous. Just protecting the sanctity of this room."

George snorted, his head tipped back against the cushion as he stifled a laugh. "There's nothing holy about this room," he teased, giving the pile of clutter in the corner a pointed glance.

Fred managed a half-smirk, his eyes barely open as he mumbled, "Doesn't mean it doesn't deserve respect."

George, now chuckling, propped himself up on his elbows. "Respect? The only thing this room deserves is a fire hazard warning and a cleaning charm."

Fred waved him off lazily. "Maybe, but it's our fire hazard." He grinned, his eyes closing again, sinking into the comfort of the moment.

Olympia snorted, shifting to get more comfortable. "Sure, Fred. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

George chuckled, tightening his arms around Olympia. "Let him talk. He's counting down the days till he gets to visit Delphine.""

Fred groaned dramatically, trying to hide the smile spreading across his face by pulling the blanket over his head. "I'm tuning you both out now."