Katie.

I was halfway through stuffing my boots into the bottom of my trunk when Sage flopped backwards onto Adrien's bed like she owned the place.

"Someone better tell George Weasley to brace for impact," she announced. "Because this is the Christmas I seduce a shopkeeper."

Maddie groaned from across the room. "Can you not make everything weird before eight AM?"

Adrien didn't say anything. She was folding her clothes with a kind of mechanical precision that made my chest tighten. Neat, methodical, silent. Her brows furrowed every time the corner of her sleeve didn't line up.

"I can't believe Cassian isn't coming," Maddie grumbled, tugging the zipper on her own bag. "What if he meets someone? What if he decides he prefers mysterious French witches who read runes for fun and don't throw glitter curses on the regular?"

Sage rolled to her side. "You are the mysterious French witch, babe."

"I'm not mysterious," Maddie muttered. "I'm insecure with chaotic fashion taste."

"You're perfect," I said, stepping in before the spiral could catch traction. "And he knows it."

Adrien still hadn't spoken.

I watched her fold a jumper like it might bite her.

Rowan had sent me a letter the night before. Something about being at the platform early. Something about sneaking me more Honeydukes chocolate than was legally allowed.

And while I was excited—relieved, really—to go home to the Burrow with all of them, Adrien's silence had been a weight pressing on my chest for days.

Since the party.

Since Blaise.

She still hadn't told Fred.

And the longer she waited, the heavier it seemed to sit on her shoulders.

"You good?" I asked quietly, nudging her suitcase closed with my foot.

Adrien didn't look up. "Peachy."

Right. So not good.

Sage moved and was now sitting cross-legged on her trunk, holding up two sweaters like she was deciding between crimes. "So, do I want to look cozy or dangerous when I see George again?"

Maddie, halfway buried in her own pile of clothes, didn't even look up. "You've never once looked cozy in your life. Go for dangerous. Add some eyeliner and make him beg."

"Please, he begged the second I hexed his shoelaces to tie themselves together," Sage smirked.

Adrien dropped to the edge of her bed now, folding a shirt with a little too much precision. "That was a weird mating ritual, by the way. You literally set his eyebrows on fire."

"And he said thank you," Sage replied sweetly. "That's love, babe."

I laughed, tossing a pair of socks at her. "You're insane."

"You're all just mad I've cornered the market on ginger chaos."

"Pretty sure Fred invented that," Adrien mumbled without looking up.

The room went still for a second.

Maddie cleared her throat. "Sooo... I'm gonna miss Cassian. Like, an inappropriate amount."

I grinned. "Already writing poetry?"

"Shut up," she said, face flaming. "We're just... new. And he's not exactly the texting type, alright? What if he meets someone else? What if I get back from break and he's got a veela girlfriend or something?"

"Then we hex her hair off," Sage said immediately.

Adrien snorted under her breath. "And enchant his books to scream 'traitor' every time he opens them."

"That's beautiful," Maddie muttered, visibly comforted. "Friendship is beautiful."

I smiled, but my gaze flicked back to Adrien. She still hadn't really looked at any of us. Just folded, packed, repacked. She was quieter than usual—edges too sharp, movement too stiff. It wasn't just nerves about telling Fred. It was like she was stuck in that damn ballroom. Still flinching from Blaise's shadow.

I didn't push. Not yet.

Instead, I went back to folding and offered a shrug. "I'm just excited to be back at the Burrow. It feels... I don't know. Like breathing."

Sage looked at me over her pile of clothes. "Because of Rowan?"

"Yes," I said honestly. "But not just him. All of it. The chaos, the warmth, the mismatched furniture. I think I might've claimed a corner of that house in my heart and never told anyone."

Adrien finally looked up at that.

"Besides," I added, smirking. "Seeing Rowan in a Weasley jumper over the summer nearly killed me. I want to see if it happens again."

"You're disgusting," Maddie groaned.

"You're jealous," I said.

"A little," she admitted. "I want my boyfriend in a jumper."

"Cassian would wear a cursed trench coat to dinner," Sage said. "Let's not pretend."

"He'd enchant the soup," Adrien muttered, a smile twitching at her mouth despite everything.

That—finally—felt a little better.

Cassian leaned against the banister like the Entrance Hall was personally disappointing him.

"You're early," Maddie said, dragging her trunk and looking annoyingly good for someone who claimed to have started packing at three a.m. "Miss me?"

Cassian didn't blink. "Deeply. The silence was... untrustworthy."

Sage grinned. "So was my patience the second I saw Blaise's name on the invite list for that party."

Adrien flinched, but it seems I'm the only one that caught it.

"I should've set his drink on fire," Maddie muttered.

"Next time we will," Sage replied, flipping her hair like a curtain call. "Flambé Zabini."

"I'm a good influence," Cassian said mildly, adjusting his scarf like he didn't just help plan three hexes in one sentence.

"You're a menace," Maddie corrected, but her smile said she liked it.

Adrien, quiet beside me, shifted the strap on her bag. Her eyes weren't on us. They were tracking movement at the top of the stairs.

"Don't—" she started.

But it was too late.

Draco and Blaise rounded the landing.

Blaise looked smug.

Draco looked... hollow.

The silence that followed wasn't quiet. It buzzed.

Blaise's eyes swept down the line of us like he was still owed something—like Adrien's bruised heart hadn't bled out on a ballroom floor days ago. His lip curled when he saw her.

"Still dressing to distract?" he said, gaze dragging over Adrien's coat like it offended him.

Cassian stepped closer to her, casual but unmissable. "Still compensating for a broken nose?"

Sage cracked her knuckles. "Keep talking, Zabini. See if your mouth heals better the second time."

Blaise's grin twitched. "Still hanging out with bodyguards and backup dancers, Adrien?"

Adrien's voice was quiet. Controlled. Deadly.

"No. Just people who don't mistake obsession for affection."

That landed. Hard.

Draco said nothing. He hadn't said a single word—but his eyes were on me. Not defiant. Not angry.

Just... there.

Present. But distant.

I held his gaze for a second, unreadable. Then looked away like it didn't matter. Like he didn't matter.

Rowan wasn't even here and the loyalty radiating off this group could've set the whole corridor ablaze.

Maddie sniffed dramatically. "Merlin, it reeks of desperate energy and wasted potential."

Sage nodded. "And hair gel."

Cassian muttered, "I've got a charm for both."

Blaise's smirk faltered. He stepped forward—just slightly—but Adrien didn't move.

Didn't flinch. Didn't blink.

"I said everything I needed to say at that party," she said coolly, her voice like sharpened glass. "And I'm not wasting another word on someone who thinks manipulation is romance."

I saw it hit him. Not like a slap—more like a slow twist. The kind of pain you try not to show, but can't quite hide.

Adrien's voice lowered, and it was somehow even sharper.

"Next time you feel like forcing yourself on someone... or thinking Fred isn't more of a man than you'll ever be... remember the sound your nose made when it broke."

Oh.

Hell.

Blaise blinked.

Didn't say a word.

Didn't meet her eyes.

And for the first time maybe ever—he didn't smirk.

Draco, who had been a silent statue until now, finally spoke.

"Come on," he muttered to Blaise. Not commanding. Not annoyed. Just... tired.

Blaise hesitated for a breath, like he might push it—like he might try to claw back even a fraction of the power Adrien just shattered.

But then he turned.

They passed us slowly, footsteps echoing in the stone corridor.

Blaise kept his gaze on the floor.

But Draco? Draco looked up.

Not at me. At Adrien this time.

His expression was unreadable for a second—then it cracked.

There it was.

Guilt.

Clear. Quiet. Devastating.

Not pride. Not defiance. Not indifference.

Just guilt.

Adrien didn't meet his eyes. Not this time.

But I did.

And whatever war he was fighting behind that gaze... he was losing.

Then they disappeared down the corridor, swallowed by shadow.

Adrien let out a breath like she'd been holding it since the party.

Sage muttered, "Next time we bring a bat."

Maddie nodded. "A magically enhanced, soul-shattering, Slytherin-repelling bat."

Cassian hummed in agreement beside us. "Wrapped in sarcasm and rage. Sounds like a Christmas gift."

I almost laughed.

But Adrien didn't.

And that silence? That silence said more than all of us combined.

The walk to the train was chaotic in the best way. Between Maddie re-enacting dramatic monologues from the platform and Sage plotting which snacks she planned to rob from the trolley, you'd think we were off to battle instead of a Christmas holiday.

Cassian, ever the chillest of our chaotic band, adjusted the strap of his guitar case like it weighed more than his entire emotional range. "I've been working on a new song," he offered casually, which immediately got Sage's attention.

"Is it the one with the dangerous lyrics that makes plants wilt or the romantic one that makes Maddie cry?"

Maddie shoved Sage playfully. "You mean the one that makes you cry? Because I caught you misty-eyed last time. Don't deny it."

"It was allergies."

"You were inside."

"Emotional pollen," Cassian said helpfully.

I trailed behind them, silent for most of it. I wasn't trying to brood—I just couldn't shake the phantom of Blaise's voice from earlier. His stare.

The way Draco looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.

When we reached the platform, Rowan was already there—leaning casually against a support beam like he'd been carved out of smug grins and leather-gloved forearms. He had one boot crossed over the other, a Honeydukes bag tucked under his arm like he'd robbed the place, and a look in his eye that made my stomach flip like a cursed galleon.

"Reserved the best compartment," he called, tossing a chocolate frog to Maddie, who caught it one-handed and immediately declared herself MVP.

But then his eyes landed on me.

And in two strides, he was in front of me, warm and cocky and infuriating in all the right ways.

"Miss me?" he asked, voice low as his hand slid around my waist and tugged me in like we were starring in a dramatic romance montage.

"Every chaotic second," I deadpanned—right before he kissed me.

Not soft. Not showy either. Just one of those heated, palm-on-hip, breath-stealing, thoroughly-illegal-by-Prefect-code kisses that made Maddie whistle and Sage mutter something about needing a fan.

"Hi," he murmured against my mouth.

"Hi," I breathed, trying not to melt into my scarf. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it."

"I really do."

"You're late," he said louder as we pulled apart—though his hand stayed right where it was.

"We're dramatic," Sage replied.

"You're loud," he corrected.

"And proud," she grinned.

Cassian offered a solemn nod. "I'm just here to write the ballad."

"You mean our upcoming hit single, 'Murder at the Sweets Cart'?" Maddie asked.

I leaned in toward Rowan, tugging him slightly off to the side, just enough so the others wouldn't catch the full exchange. His smirk softened the second he clocked my expression.

"That's what took us so long," I said under my breath. "We ran into Blaise and Draco in the Entrance Hall."

His jaw tensed—instantly. "What happened?"

"Nothing explosive," I said quickly. "Adrien held it together. Blaise didn't say much, but the look he gave her? It was enough to make my wand hand itch."

Rowan's mouth pressed into a line.

"And Draco?" he asked.

"Didn't say anything," I muttered. "Just stood there. Watching. And not like he was proud of his life choices."

Rowan nodded slowly. "She okay?"

"She said she is. But..." I glanced over at Adrien, who was keeping a polite smile on for the group, but her eyes were a thousand miles away. "She hasn't told Fred yet. She will. She just needs space to do it herself."

He exhaled, glanced once at Adrien too, and gave the smallest nod. "Alright. But if Blaise breathes too close again, I'm breaking his nose again for symmetry."

"You're very thoughtful," I said dryly.

He grinned. "Exactly," Rowan smirked, grabbing my hand. "Get in. We've got a train to terrorize."

The second we piled into the compartment, the chaos kicked off like it had been waiting for us.

Maddie launched herself across the seat with a dramatic cry of, "THIS is the chosen bench! The bench of destiny!"

Cassian deadpanned, "You said that about the one at breakfast yesterday morning."

"Different vibe," Maddie said, already pulling out a deck of Exploding Snap.

Sage flopped into the opposite seat and summoned her bag with a flourish. "I brought every flavor bean roulette, a miniature hex wheel, and enough chocolate to ruin your teeth and your enemies."

"You're an icon," Rowan said, draping an arm across my shoulders like it belonged there—which it did.

Adrien slid into the seat near the window, tucking her legs beneath her, eyes distant but trying. Trying hard. Her smile was quieter than usual.

Sage caught on fast. "Alright," she said, tossing a pack of enchanted gum at Rowan, "it's time."

"Time for what?" he asked, already chewing.

"Time to absolutely dominate you lot in card games," she said.

Cassian gave Adrien a nudge. "You in?"

She hesitated.

I didn't. I stretched out, flopped my legs across Adrien's lap, and looked up at her with a grin. "If you don't play, I'm going to start humming Celestina Warbeck's holiday album until your ears bleed."

"She's serious," Maddie warned. "She once got detention for doing that to a painting."

Adrien huffed a laugh. Small. But real.

Rowan dealt the cards. Cassian kept score with a floating chalkboard charmed to insult whoever lost a hand.

Maddie made Sage spit pumpkin juice when she dropped a fake love note from Snape into Rowan's bag. Sage retaliated by charming Cassian's shoelaces to sync to the Hogwarts choir.

I leaned closer to Adrien. "Still with us?"

She nodded. Quiet. "Yeah. Just... catching up."

And we let her. We didn't push. We just played. Laughed. Planned a trolley heist involving a distraction, a levitation charm, and Cassian's dramatic talent for pretending to faint.

Adrien didn't laugh at all of it. But she laughed enough. And that was a start.

Maddie had managed to fully stage a heist on the sweets trolley within the first hour of the ride. Sage and Cassian had recruited two first-years to be their lookouts. There was glitter in the card decks, a self-writing joke scroll that kept auto-completing punchlines with increasingly inappropriate endings, and at least one enchanted Chocolate Frog that kept trying to lick Rowan's neck.

I hadn't laughed that hard in weeks.

Well—correction: we laughed that hard.

Adrien must've known I noticed her retraction though, because somewhere between Maddie's third attempted heist of Cassian's sketchpad and Sage's vow to duel a trolley witch, I stretched across the length of the compartment, kicked Sage off the bench, and flopped my head dramatically into Adrien's lap.

It earned a round of applause.

"We're taking shifts babysitting Adrien," I announced. "She gets poked if she zones out longer than five seconds."

"I want the next shift," Maddie said immediately. "I poke with snacks."

"I'll bring tea," Rowan murmured without looking up.

"I'll bring mild arson," Sage added sweetly.

Adrien actually laughed. Quiet, but real.

And then—knock knock.

The compartment door slid open.

"Hey."

Harry Potter stood there, windblown and flushed. Behind him, Hermione's concern was written all over her face, and Ginny leaned in with a familiar half-smile. Ron lurked at the back, awkward, clearly trying to avoid Adrien's eyes.

"Mind if we come in for a sec?" Harry asked.

I was already standing. "Of course not."

They stepped in, Hermione moving to sit gently beside Adrien, her voice soft. "We saw what happened."

"Yeah," Harry added. "Blaise. The party."

"We're sorry," Hermione said. "That you had to go through that. That he—"

"And we're here," Harry added. "If you need anything."

Adrien nodded, swallowing hard. "Thanks."

Ginny smiled faintly. "Hermione told me you looked amazing, by the way. That dress was basically war paint."

Adrien smiled. Just barely. But it counted.

And then—

"RONALD!"

Lavender Brown's voice tore through the corridor like a jinx.

Hermione didn't even flinch. Just rolled her eyes.

Ron panicked. "I—I should—"

Hermione didn't stop him. Just flicked her hand in a "go on" gesture.

He bolted.

"Coward," Ginny muttered.

Harry tried to look serious. Failed spectacularly.

Hermione exhaled, standing. "We'll be at the Burrow too. Just... know you're not alone, alright? Not in this. Not in anything."

"Thanks," Adrien whispered.

They left a few moments later, Harry clapping Rowan on the back before sliding the door shut.

I turned toward Adrien. She was still quiet. Still somewhere else.

After the door slid shut, silence settled in again. Not awkward—just a pause. Like we'd all collectively exhaled but didn't know what to inhale next.

Rowan set down the deck of cards, leaning back against the bench with a sigh. His eyes didn't flick to me like usual. They drifted straight to Adrien.

She was staring out the window. Not glassy-eyed or dramatic, just... gone. Somewhere far from this train. From us.

Rowan shifted forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, and said, low and careful, "You holding up, Six?"

Adrien blinked. "Six?"

"Your emotional scale ranking," he said, deadpan. "You're never lower than a four, and if you hit a ten I'm legally obligated to bake something or throw hands."

Her mouth twitched. Just barely. "What happened to one through five?"

"I reserve those for Cassian. He's moody in French."

Cassian didn't look up from his notebook. "I resent that. In two languages."

Rowan grinned, then glanced back at Adrien. "So?"

She hesitated, then shrugged. "I'm probably a solid 5.6."

He made a face. "That's dangerously neutral. Like... herbal tea of emotions."

Adrien finally cracked a real smile. "You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously right," he said, bumping her knee with his own. "Talk to Fred yet?"

Her gaze dropped again. "No. But I will."

"Good," Rowan said gently. "Because if I have to be the emotional support goblin for this group any longer, I'm charging fees."

"Is the fee snacks?" Sage asked from her sprawled position under the window.

Rowan didn't miss a beat. "Snacks. Glitter. Possibly your soul."

Cassian hummed. "That's fair market value."

I watched Adrien tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, her posture softening as Rowan kept nudging her back into the moment. It wasn't loud. Wasn't flashy. But it worked.

He didn't push.

He just stayed.

And that—more than any punch or prank or glitter bomb—was why Adrien trusted him.

I smiled, leaning into Rowan's side as the train kept rolling forward.

Adrien fell asleep against my shoulder sometime after the third game of exploding snap and halfway through Maddie's rant about how Cassian's handwriting was a war crime against parchment.

She didn't snore, exactly—but she did sigh in her sleep, like even her dreams were tired.

I didn't move. Not when Rowan cracked another joke. Not when Sage declared mutiny over Cassian's refusal to let her charm the card deck. Not even when the trolley lady passed for a second time and Maddie threatened to hex the price of every chocolate frog out of spite.

Adrien needed the rest. I needed her to have it. So I stayed still, anchoring her the way she so often anchored me.

When the train finally slowed, she stirred, blinking blearily at me.

"We're here," I murmured.

"Already?" she rasped.

"Yeah. Come on, love. Time to chaos."

She didn't argue. Just leaned into me a second longer, then pulled herself upright with the kind of slow, stiff movement that said not enough sleep, not enough peace.

The platform was a flurry of movement by the time we stepped off. Students reuniting with families. The echo of trunks thudding. The screech of owls and the chatter of first-years trying to find their people.

Cassian stopped just short of the barrier with Maddie and tucked a hand into his coat pocket, pulling out something—one of her quills. She blinked.

"I thought I lost that," she said.

He smirked. "You did. You threw it at me during Charms and forgot."

Maddie flushed, then laughed. "Well. Keep it, then."

He didn't say anything. Just tucked it back into his coat like it meant something, leaned in, and kissed her—slow, careful, and just cocky enough to make Sage gag dramatically from behind me.

When they finally pulled apart, Cassian looked at the rest of us and said with no small amount of dread, "Keep her alive."

"Rude," Maddie muttered, linking her arm through mine.

"True," Sage said, completely unbothered.

We gave Cassian one last wave and peeled off from the crowd, angling toward the redheads up ahead.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry were clustered by a luggage cart near the platform exit. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were waiting just past the barrier, chatting with a clearly harassed-looking station worker who did not look ready for Weasley-level holiday energy.

"Oh good," Ginny said as we approached, "reinforcements."

"We were starting to bet on whether you got kicked off the train," Ron added.

"We almost did," Sage said proudly.

"We didn't do anything," I said quickly.

Rowan held up three chocolate frogs and a peppermint toffee. "Define anything."

Mrs. Weasley waved us forward. "Now then—everyone's accounted for? Good, good. We've got two options—straight to the Burrow or a quick stop at the shop."

"Burrow," Hermione said quickly, already tucking herself into Ron's side.

"Burrow," Ginny agreed, rubbing her gloved hands together. "I want cocoa and a nap."

Harry nodded. "Same."

The four of them turned expectantly.

Adrien glanced at me. Sage was already giving Rowan a look that screamed don't you dare make me go be wholesome yet.

Maddie stepped forward and said, without hesitation, "Shop."

Sage echoed, "Shop."

I raised a brow. "Burrow's got firewood and sanity."

"Shop has traps and poor life decisions," Maddie said.

"Sold," Rowan nodded.

Adrien looked up, exhausted but smirking faintly. "Shop."

I sighed, defeated by majority rule. "Fine. Shop it is."

Mrs. Weasley blinked at us like she wasn't sure if we needed snacks or supervision. Probably both.

"Alright," Mr. Weasley said with a chuckle, "we'll split the Floo. Burrow crew first."

Hermione and Ron stepped into the fireplace together, dusted in soot and affection. Ginny and Harry followed right after, disappearing in a swirl of green flame.

Then it was our turn.

We stepped out into the back of the shop in a swirl of glitter, cold wind, and half-unzipped jackets. The floo spat Rowan out last—his landing less than graceful, a shoulder knocking into the wall.

"We need to work on your dismount," Maddie said, brushing off her sleeve.

Rowan blinked at the wall like it had betrayed him. "We need a better target. Preferably not your elbow."

The shop was quiet.

Too quiet.

Sage crept forward like we'd entered enemy territory. "Where are the loud ones?"

Maddie raised an eyebrow. "You're going to have to be more specific."

Then a shout echoed from upstairs.

"GEORGE! I SWEAR IF YOU BLEW UP THE SUGAR STOCK AGAIN—"

Fred.

Adrien froze beside me.

And then he appeared. Disheveled. Flour smudged across one cheek. Holding what looked like a half-melted licorice wand.

He looked up.

And saw Adrien.

Time stopped for half a breath.

Then:

"You're early," he said, dropping the wand and crossing the room in three strides.

Adrien didn't even try to hide it this time. She met him halfway.

Fred wrapped his arms around her like it had been months, not weeks. Like if he didn't hold her now, she might vanish again.

Behind them, George popped out from behind the counter, blinking. "You lot bring chaos or cocoa?"

"Both," Sage grinned.

Rowan stepped around Adrien and Fred to clasp George's shoulder. "You got room for seven?"

George blinked. "Not legally. But since when has that stopped us?"

"This year is cursed," Maddie announced dramatically, shoving two lollipops into her coat pocket. "And I mean that literally."

"I second that," Sage said, flopping onto the nearest beanbag chair like she owned the place. "Can we hex the entire school or is that a ministry-level crime?"

"I think it depends who you ask," I offered.

Adrien settled onto the sofa next to me, her head leaning into Fred's shoulder. She was letting him wrap his arms around her, even let him kiss her temple once, but her body wasn't relaxed—more like she was pretending to be. Like she wanted to be okay for him but couldn't quite get there.

Fred noticed. Of course he did. His hands moved over her arms like he could smooth the tension out if he tried hard enough. His eyes flicked to her face more than once, watching the way her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

Rowan tugged me to my feet and dropped onto the couch while tugging me back down to sit in his lap. I smirked into his shoulder and pressed a sweet small kiss on his cheek, he just beamed.

All was still and semi-calm, until George suddenly cleared his throat.

"Fred—don't you have that thing to do?"

Fred blinked. Then straightened. "Right. Yeah. That thing."

He gave Adrien a quick squeeze, then turned toward me. "Katie—can I borrow you for a second?"

I arched my brow. "Me?"

He nodded, a little too earnestly. "Shop stuff. You're the only one I trust not to accidentally explode a shipment of Nosebleed Nougats."

Adrien sat up a little, brushing hair out of her face. "Take your time. I'll help cover the counter."

Fred looked like he wanted to object, but Adrien was already on her feet.

"We've got it," Rowan added, appearing beside her. "You go...do whatever thing this is."

George grinned. "I'll hover nearby in case the children burn the place down."

"I'm sticking around," Sage added, plucking a Skiving Snackbox off the shelf. "But purely for commentary."

Maddie was now arguing with a singing sugar quill. "I'm here for emotional damage and fizzy sweets."

Fred pulled me into the back storage room, heart thumping, eyes darting over his shoulder like we were planning a heist.

Then—he opened a small drawer beneath the counter and pulled out a brochure.

"It's ready," he said, breathless. "It was the wrong size at Hogsmeade, but I sent it back and I'm picking it up tonight. Just wanted you to see it first."

I opened it slowly as he pointed over my shoulder to the one.

Simple. Elegant. A deep stone that shimmered red and gold. It was beautiful. Not flashy.

Just... Adrien.

Before I could even compliment him—

Sage's voice cut in. "Are you kidding me?!"

We both turned.

Maddie and Sage were halfway through the curtain.

"We got curious," Maddie said, completely unrepentant. "Blame Fred. He looked shady."

Fred groaned. "This is top secret!"

"Then don't whisper in a room full of nosy Gryffindors," Sage said, hands on her hips.

Fred clutched the brochure to his chest. "Swear you won't say anything. Please. She doesn't know."

Maddie mimed zipping her lips. Sage crossed her heart.

"We won't," Sage said, then grinned. "But only if I get to help with the plan."

Fred looked like he might faint.

I sighed and stepped between them. "Alright. Here's the deal: you two can help—but under strict Katie supervision. And if either of you breathe a single word to Adrien before it happens, I will personally hex your tongues into slugs."

Sage blinked. "Hot."

Maddie nodded solemnly. "Terrifying. But fair."

Fred still looked unconvinced.

"Listen, I've been helping him plan this since summer. All the letters, the cryptic replies from his mum, me checking the post like a lunatic—this has been in motion for months." I elaborated, standing next to Fred now, arms crossed.

Fred exhaled. "Alright. You're in charge."

"Smart man," I said, folding my arms.

From the front of the shop, Adrien's voice floated back. "Everything okay back there?"

Fred called, "Yep! Just going over some inventory stuff!"

He turned back to me, then closed the brochure carefully and tucked it into his jacket. "I need to head out. Mum's expecting me. Errand stuff—and this." He paused, adjusting his jacket. "I haven't even talked to them about it yet..."

"Fred!" I hissed.

"I will!" He held his hands up in a mock-surrender. "Tonight."

I nodded. "We've got things covered."

But he didn't move yet.

Instead, he looked at me—really looked—and rubbed the back of his neck. "Before I go... can I ask you something?"

My brow furrowed. "Fred, if this is about the ring again—"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Well. Sort of. Not the ring. Just—everything." His voice dipped. "You're... the closest thing Adrien's got to family. You've always been there for her. You know her best. And I... I want to do this right."

I blinked. The lump in my throat wasn't invited.

"So," he continued softly, "do I have your blessing?"

My voice cracked, but I still smirked. "Only if I get to hex you if you ever hurt her."

He grinned. "Fair enough."

A loud throat-clear sounded from behind me.

Fred turned to find Sage and Maddie still standing just inside the room, arms crossed, both trying to look unimpressed and failing miserably.

"Oh, don't mind us," Sage said. "Just wondering if you planned to ask the rest of her unofficial family too."

Fred flushed, rubbing the back of his neck again. "Right. Yeah. You too. Obviously."

Maddie arched a brow. "Say the words, Weasley."

Fred huffed a laugh, then straightened, a little more serious. "I want your blessing too. Both of you. Because you're family to her. Whether or not it's blood."

Sage's face cracked into something warm beneath the sass. "Then don't screw it up."

Maddie wiped a fake tear. "We're so proud."

Fred rolled his eyes, but he was beaming as George popped his head in with a knowing smirk. "Guess I'm coming too. You five hold the fort."

Fred made his way back to Adrien, who stood near the counter organizing a tray of sample vials. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her temple and whispering something too soft for any of us to hear.

Adrien leaned into him, visibly reluctant to let go, but she nodded. "Be safe."

Fred smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it."

George gave Sage a look that said everything and nothing all at once. "Don't burn the place down," he muttered, and Sage rolled her eyes, grabbing a peppermint from the jar and tossing it at him as he vanished out the door behind his brother.

As they disappeared through the back door, Rowan had already started stacking inventory—slightly incorrectly.

I crossed over to him and plucked a jar out of his hands. "That's a prank gum, not a fizzing vial. Different shelf."

Rowan blinked. "They both explode."

I smirked, nudging his side. "Fred's picking up the ring."

His head snapped toward me so fast I thought he might pull something. "Wait—the ring? Like, the ring?"

I nodded, grinning. "Yeah. That's why he dragged me into the back earlier. It's ready."

Rowan stared at me, eyes wide. Then he ran a hand through his already-messy hair and exhaled. "Bloody hell. He's actually doing it."

I smiled, amusement bubbling in my chest. "Don't say anything. She has no idea."

His expression softened—fond and a little awestruck. "That idiot loves her so much he looks like he might combust every time she walks in the room."

"Tell me about it," I muttered, nudging his elbow again.

Rowan shook his head, smiling to himself. "Well, if anyone deserves something good—something real—it's her. Just...tell him not to mess it up."

I grinned. "That's what I'm here for."

He bumped my shoulder lightly. "Remind me to write a very dramatic ballad if she says yes."

"She's going to say yes."

And with that, the twins disappeared through the back door, leaving me, Adrien, Rowan, Sage, and Maddie standing in the middle of a candy-coated battlefield.

Let the chaos commence.

Sage and Maddie immediately took over the front—Maddie charming every product sign to rhyme and Sage reorganizing the prank shelves by severity.

"This one's mild mischief," Sage declared, pointing to a box that made chocolate frogs sing off-key love ballads. "This one's public embarrassment," she added, tossing a nose-shrinking powder into the next bin. "And this one is divorce-level revenge." She held up a trick wand that, when activated, screamed your secrets aloud in Pig Latin.

"That one goes on the top shelf," Maddie said solemnly.

Rowan sorted inventory with surprising precision in the backroom, humming something under his breath as he scribbled notes in loopy handwriting that I absolutely intended to tease him about later.

I handled the till, snatching Galleons mid-spin with mild flair while subtly watching Adrien.

She stayed quiet. Helped when asked, answered a few customer questions, but mostly moved like a ghost behind the counter. She kept her shoulders tucked close, eyes scanning but never quite landing anywhere.

We didn't mention it. We just... made space.

By mid-afternoon, Sage announced dramatically, "We're off to the Burrow to corrupt dinner prep."

"We're helping," Maddie said, grabbing her scarf.

"You're terrifying Ron," I corrected.

"Tomato, toh-ment-o," Maddie said, winking.

And with a final flourish of sass and glitter, they left.

That left me, Adrien, and Rowan to close.

Adrien started wiping down the counter again—cleaning spots that were already clean. Her movements were methodical, slow, like muscle memory had taken over. I wanted to say something. I didn't. Not yet.

In the stockroom, Rowan climbed a step stool like it had personally offended him, adjusting boxes and muttering about alphabetizing versus "vibe-based placement." At one point he shouted, "What sociopath puts Canary Creams next to Love Potions?!"

"That's Fred," I called back.

I leaned on the till, watching Adrien quietly reset the same display twice.

"You good?" I asked her softly.

She didn't answer right away. Just set down the sign and shrugged, like it was all she had the energy for.

I nodded to myself. Walked over. Bumped her hip with mine gently.

"We're almost done," I said. "And when we are, I'm making you tea and threatening you with forced friendship."

Her lips twitched—barely.

Back in the stockroom, a crash echoed.

"Everything's fine!" Rowan called.

"You're bleeding, aren't you?" I replied.

"Emotionally? Always."

I laughed despite myself. Adrien actually smiled.

And as the sun dipped lower outside and the golden glow lit up the joke shop windows, I looked at the three of us in that space—me, Rowan, and Adrien—and felt something loosen in my chest.

The shift went by in a blur, a very amusing blur.

We dimmed the front lights, locked up the sweets case, and swept the floor in companionable quiet. Adrien barely spoke still, but when she did it was enough—small comments about inventory, the weird smell near the shelf of Canary Creams, and the fact that Fred still hadn't replaced the squeaky hinge on the stockroom door.

Rowan, predictably, used said squeaky hinge as percussion for his impromptu broomstick air guitar solo while standing on a crate. I tossed a stray candy wrapper at him.

"You're lucky you're cute," I muttered, failing to hide my grin.

Rowan hopped down and closed the distance with a lopsided smirk. "I'm not lucky. I'm devastatingly charming. Different magic."

"You're something," I said, tugging my cloak tighter with a raised brow. "And you've now left glitter on your own face. Proud of that?"

"Only if it's yours," he shot back, brushing a speck off my cheek—his hand lingering just long enough to make me forget the cold for a second.

Adrien snorted softly from the counter where she was folding the last of the cleaning cloths. It was faint, but it was real. Her first laugh all day.

Rowan threw his arm around both of us when it was done. "Mission accomplished. Chaos contained. Now—Burrow?"

Adrien gave a tired smile. "Yeah. Burrow."

We grabbed our cloaks and headed out into the chilly twilight, the last glow of the shop lights flickering behind us. Rowan bumped my shoulder as we walked, and I bumped him right back. Adrien didn't say much, but when I glanced sideways, she was smiling again—just a little.

The Burrow loomed like a glowing gingerbread house in the distance, crooked and familiar, warm light spilling from the windows like magic itself.

Adrien walked quietly between Rowan and me, her boots crunching faintly on the frozen path. Her cloak was pulled tighter than usual, and I couldn't blame her. I kept glancing at her like she might splinter again if I didn't keep her in my peripheral vision.

Rowan stayed close too. His hand kept brushing mine.

The front steps creaked as we climbed them—normal Burrow stuff—but the moment we reached the porch, everything stilled.

From inside: shouting.

Not rowdy dinner chatter. Not Weasley-level chaos. This was sharper. Heated.

Rowan and I exchanged a look, and Adrien froze behind us.

We pushed the front door open quietly—and stopped dead in our tracks.

The sitting room was lit bright with firelight and fury.

Arthur and Molly stood near the hearth, facing Fred. He stood tall, red in the face, fists clenched like he'd rather punch the wall than say whatever he'd just said.

"I'm not a kid!" Fred snapped. "You act like I haven't thought about this—like I don't know what I'm doing."

"You're young, Fred," Molly said gently, though her voice held weight. "And you care about her. We know that. But sometimes, love... it's not enough. Not when someone's still learning how to breathe again."

Adrien tensed beside me. Like the words hit somewhere raw.

"We just think," Arthur said carefully, "with everything she's still recovering from... maybe this isn't the time to make things more complicated. Give her space, son. Let her find her footing first—before you make a choice you can't undo."

Adrien's breath caught, so soft I might've imagined it.

Fred didn't answer.

Not at first.

He just stood there—jaw clenched, eyes dark—before storming out the back without another word.

"She is what's best for me."

And with that, he walked out the back door—quiet, controlled, but furious.

None of them noticed us standing in the entryway.

I felt Adrien flinch beside me.

Not visibly. Not dramatically. But inward—like something inside her cracked and curled up.

We stayed frozen, the front door still half-open behind us. The room emptied a few moments later—Molly wiping her eyes, Arthur shaking his head, murmuring something none of us caught as they retreated up the stairs.

Only when the last footstep vanished overhead did I exhale.

Rowan closed the front door with a soft click. "Well," he said grimly, "so much for a warm welcome."

Adrien said nothing.

She didn't have to.

The look on her face said it all.

I could see exactly what she was thinking, she thought they wanted Fred to break up with her. With some strong hesitation she exhaled sharply.

We moved through the now-empty house in silence, dragging our trunks up the narrow stairwell with the efficiency of people avoiding their own thoughts. Adrien and I peeled off to our usual room without a word. Rowan dropped his things in the twins' room across the hall.

When we made it out to the backyard, the cold snapped back into my lungs—and with it, the noise.

Laughter. Fire crackling. Cloaks rustling. George was shouting something about marshmallows and magical burn cream. Ron was arguing with Ginny over who dropped the chocolate log. Hermione was already wrapped in a blanket.

And Fred... Fred was seated in a chair, eyes distant, until Adrien appeared in the soft orange glow.

He stood instantly.

She barely reached him before he was tugging her into his lap, arms tight around her waist, face buried in her neck like she was the only thing keeping him steady.

No words. Just touch. Just closeness.

I slipped onto the bench next to them, and Rowan didn't wait—he slid in behind me, pulled me gently against his chest, and draped his arms around my middle like we'd done this a hundred times. His chin rested lightly on my shoulder.

"You okay?" he murmured.

"Yeah," I whispered, glancing at Adrien who was grinning softly at something Fred was whispering in her ear—but she had a different type of distance in her eyes, almost a bracing for impact type of tension too. "She's not though, but she will be. We'll make sure of it."

He nodded against my hair.

The fire cracked.

The others laughed.

And for now... we just stayed close.

Because even when the world spun too fast—this? This was home.

We trickled inside one by one, the cold clinging to our coats and cheeks like it didn't want to let go.

Adrien was the first to slip away upstairs, Fred trailing behind her a few minutes later with a quiet word to George. None of us asked what was said. Not yet.

Sage disappeared next, dragging Maddie along while threatening to hex her snoring if she didn't sleep facing the window. George yawned and muttered something about needing both eyes tomorrow and vanished.

Rowan and I stayed curled together on the couch long after the fire had dimmed, my legs tucked over his lap, his arm draped over my shoulder in that lazy, possessive way that made me feel like I'd finally landed somewhere safe.

"I should move," I whispered into his shirt.

"You won't," he whispered back.

And, of course, I didn't.

We were the last to head upstairs—reluctantly, quietly, our fingers laced together all the way up to the second floor landing.

The next morning, the sun hadn't even considered rising yet when I crept downstairs, running into Rowan in the process. He'd mumbled something about needing tea and I'd volunteered as tribute to help find the kettle.

We expected a cold kitchen, maybe a cat.

What we got was Molly already elbows-deep in flour, humming like the kitchen itself was part of the song. The smell of cinnamon and hearth smoke hit first, followed by the unmistakable clatter of a spoon in a mixing bowl.

She looked up, smiling like it was perfectly normal for teenagers to appear pre-dawn. "Well, good morning, dears."

"We were just—tea," I said quickly, pointing unnecessarily at the kettle.

Rowan nodded like we'd been caught sneaking liquor, not chamomile.

Molly handed him a peeler instead.

"While the kettle boils, you two can help with the potatoes."

And somehow, fifteen minutes later, I was holding up what might've been a vaguely humanoid potato with a lopsided carrot arm and a sprinkle of onion for hair.

Rowan leaned on the counter beside me, holding up something with three eyes and no structural integrity.

"I win," I declared.

"That looks exactly like Percy," Rowan argued.

"Which is why I win."

Molly glanced over from the oven and nearly dropped her spoon laughing.

"Yours looks like if anxiety were a vegetable," I added helpfully.

"And yours looks like it files taxes for fun."

We didn't stop. Not until the tea was cold, the potatoes were peeled, and Molly called us both ridiculous with too much fondness in her voice to mean it.

And for that small sliver of morning, in the warmth of the Burrow's kitchen, everything felt...okay.

Even if it wouldn't be for long.