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╰┈➤ ❝ [𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑂𝑁𝐸] ❞ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
⁺⤾·˚.⃗.  [sᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ʜᴀɪʀ, ᴛᴀɴɢʟᴇᴅ ʜᴀɪʀ] 𑁍ࠜೄ ˊˎ
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The Burrow
Village of Ottery St Catchpole
- Devon, England
( July, 1995. )

                                    𝑻he casual ease of the visits made it easy to hide her relationship with George, but there was always that faint edge of anxiety. She shook the thought away as they walked down the familiar dirt path toward the Burrow, the sight of the crooked house in the distance already lifting her spirits.

It wasn't long before they reached the gate, the sound of chickens clucking softly in the yard. Cassie pushed it open, calling out, "Weasleys, prepare yourselves-we've arrived!"

From somewhere inside, Fred's voice called back, "Brace yourselves, everyone. The Harringtons are here!"

Olympia couldn't help but laugh as they stepped inside, already feeling at home.

As Olympia and Cassie stepped through the Burrow's front door, the familiar chaos of the Weasley home greeted them-though it was oddly quiet. The usual bustle was missing, and instead, the house felt calm, almost peaceful.

"Where's everyone?" Cassie asked, looking around.

"Out," Fred said, popping his head around the corner from the kitchen. He held a mug of tea in one hand and a biscuit in the other. "Mum took Ron and Ginny to town, Dad's at work, and the rest of the family's off doing adult things. So it's just us."

"Lucky you," George added, appearing behind his twin with a grin. His eyes immediately found Olympia, and the grin widened as he wiped his hands on his jeans. "Now we've got the best company."

Fred snorted. "Speak for yourself. Cassie's alright, but I don't know if I'd call her the best."

Cassie raised an eyebrow, smirking. "And yet, I keep gracing you with my presence. You're welcome."

As Fred and Cassie continued their playful banter, George took a step closer to Olympia, his grin softening into something warmer. "Glad you're here," he murmured, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

"Me too," Olympia replied, her cheeks flushing slightly.

Without hesitation-his parents conveniently absent-George leaned in and kissed her. It wasn't a quick, sneaky kiss like the ones they usually shared when no one was looking; it was full of ease and affection, like he didn't have to worry about hiding it this time.

The sound of simultaneous groans interrupted the moment.

"Ew!" Fred exclaimed loudly, throwing his hands up in mock disgust. "In my house? Right in front of my tea?"

Cassie wasn't far behind, wrinkling her nose dramatically. "Ugh, can you two not? I haven't even had lunch yet."

Olympia pulled back, her cheeks turning pink, while George merely smirked, completely unbothered by their reactions. "What?" he said, raising an eyebrow at Fred and Cassie. "Jealous?"

Fred gasped in mock horror, clutching his chest. "Jealous? Of that? Merlin, no. I'm just offended you'd subject me to such a display."

Cassie crossed her arms, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "At least warn us next time, George. Some of us have delicate constitutions."

"Delicate?" Fred scoffed, turning to Cassie. "Please, you've got the constitution of a troll."

Cassie shoved his shoulder, laughing despite herself. "And you've got the manners of one."

Olympia, still blushing, shook her head at their antics but couldn't help but laugh. "You're both mad."

George grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Don't mind them," he said, leaning closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "They're just mad they don't have anyone to snog on a fine day like this."

Fred leaned back in his chair, his biscuit now reduced to crumbs on the floor. He fanned himself with a piece of parchment, his face contorted into a dramatic grimace. "Merlin's beard, it's bloody hot in here. Feels like we're living inside a dragon's mouth."

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Maybe if you actually got up and did something, you wouldn't feel like you're melting."

Fred sat up straight, feigning shock. "How dare you suggest manual labor as a solution to my suffering? I'll have you know, Harrington, I'm a delicate flower."

"More like a wilting weed," George quipped, earning a snicker from Olympia.

"Alright, fine, wise guy," Fred shot back, pointing at his twin. "You've got all the answers. What's your solution, then?"

George tilted his head, pretending to think deeply. "Well, we could do something productive, like clean the house before Mum gets back. Or..."

"Or?" Fred asked, leaning in with mock eagerness.

George smirked. "We could head down to the creek and cool off."

Cassie perked up immediately. "The creek sounds like an excellent idea. I'm not sitting around here sweating like a troll for the rest of the afternoon."

Olympia nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm in. I could use a break from roasting in here."

Fred clapped his hands together, standing up dramatically. "The creek it is! A brilliant idea, Georgie, I must say. Let it be known that I fully supported it."

"Yeah, yeah," George said with a laugh, standing as well and stretching. "Come on, then. Let's grab some towels and head out."

The group gathered what they needed-towels from the linen cupboard, a few bottles of water from the kitchen, and Fred grabbed an old, slightly deflated beach ball "just in case." Within minutes, they were making their way down the dirt path that led to the creek, the sun beating down on their backs.

The creek was a favorite summer spot, tucked away in a quiet corner of the woods between the Harringtons' and Weasleys' properties. The cool water shimmered in the sunlight, surrounded by trees that offered some much-needed shade. As they arrived, Cassie let out a sigh of relief. "This is perfect."

As Fred and George casually pulled off their shirts, Olympia found her eyes drifting to George. She wasn't exactly new to the sight-she'd grown up next door to the Weasleys, and summer swims in the creek had always involved a lack of formality. But this time felt different. Ever since she and George had started snogging a few months ago, seeing him shirtless had taken on a whole new context. His easy grin, the slight tan on his skin from long days outdoors, the way his muscles moved as he tossed his shirt onto the grass—it all made her stomach flip.

She blinked, quickly looking away and trying to will the heat from her cheeks to fade. Cassie, meanwhile, was already tugging at the hem of her shirt, when Olympia suddenly blurted out, "We don't have suits."

Fred froze mid-step, raising an eyebrow. "And?"

George, equally puzzled, tilted his head. "Yeah, and?"

Cassie paused, her hands still holding her shirt's edge as she turned to Olympia. "Since when do you care?"

There was a moment of silence as the group stared at Olympia, waiting for her to explain the sudden statement. It wasn't as though this was new-none of them had ever bothered with proper swimsuits. Fred and George always swam in their boxers, and she and Cassie in their bras and knickers. It was just how it had always been.

Olympia hesitated, suddenly hyper-aware of how things had changed. "Well, I mean... we're getting older," she said, gesturing vaguely.

Fred raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Older? What's that got to do with anything?"

Cassie looked equally puzzled. "What are you on about, Oly?"

Olympia shifted awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck. "I just mean... Cassie and I are, you know, filling out. More developed. And you two have-"

She froze mid-word, her mouth snapping shut when she caught sight of Fred and George's widened eyes, both of them looking at her as though she'd just announced a plan to move to the moon.

"Yeah, no, forget it," she muttered, quickly yanking her shirt over her head and kicking off her shorts. "Forget I said anything."

But Fred wasn't about to let it go. "No, no, please," he said, his voice shaking with suppressed laughter. "By all means, finish your sentence. This is riveting."

Cassie, catching on to her twin's sudden embarrassment, started laughing too, her arms crossed as she smirked at Olympia. "Oh, come on, Oly. You can't just stop there."

Olympia shot them both a glare, though her own lips twitched with the urge to laugh. "Shut up, or I'll dunk both of you."

Fred was now doubled over, practically wheezing. "She said 'filling out'-did you hear that, George? Filling out! Oh, Merlin, this is gold."

"Oi Ols enlighten me, what is it we have?" Fred called out with a laugh.

George, though clearly amused, tried to rein in his laughter as he looked at Olympia, his grin softening. "Ignore him," he said, chuckling. "He's just jealous no one's calling him developed."

"Oi!" Fred protested, still laughing. "I'm perfectly developed, thank you very much."

Cassie rolled her eyes, yanking off her shirt and tossing it at Fred's face. "Alright, we're all just a bunch of well-developed individuals. Can we swim now?"

Olympia couldn't help but laugh as she followed her sister's lead, kicking her shorts into the pile of discarded clothes. "I'm blaming the heat for that entire conversation."

"You should blame your brain," Fred quipped, wading into the creek with a cheeky grin. "But really, Oly, if you've got more thoughts about our development, feel free to share."

"Get in the water before I hex you," she called after him, though her grin betrayed her amusement.

George waded in beside her, his hand brushing hers under the surface as he leaned in with a soft smirk. "For the record," he murmured, "I think you're perfect. Filling out or otherwise."

Olympia shot him a look, but her cheeks flushed, and she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face as she splashed him lightly. "Shut up, Weasley."

Fred, from further downstream, cupped his hands around his mouth. "Oi! Less flirting, more splashing! Let's go, lovebirds!"

And just like that, the group dissolved into laughter, their earlier awkwardness forgotten as they splashed and played in the cool, refreshing water. The heat of the day faded, and for a little while, everything felt simple again.

𝑳ater, as they stepped into the Burrow, the house was quiet, still untouched by the chaos that usually filled it when Molly and the others were home. Towels were draped over their shoulders, hair damp from the creek, and there was a content sort of weariness to the group after their time in the water.

Fred stretched dramatically, letting out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Home sweet home. Now, what's the plan? Sandwiches? More lounging?"

George, standing beside him, leaned in and whispered just loud enough for Fred to hear, "Distract Cass for a bit. Don't come upstairs."

Fred turned to his twin, raising an eyebrow before a sly grin spread across his face. "Be careful." he teased, clapping George on the back.

"Oh, shut it," George retorted, rolling his eyes but unable to suppress the small smirk tugging at his lips.

Olympia, standing nearby, noticed the exchange and raised an eyebrow. Before she could say anything, George's eyes met hers, his gaze softening with a familiar glint of mischief. He tilted his head slightly toward the stairs, the silent gesture clear as day. Olympia smirked, giving him a small nod before turning and making her way toward the stairs without a word. George followed a moment later, his steps casual but purposeful.

Behind them, Cassie groaned, crossing her arms as she watched the pair. "Oh, you aren't subtle," she called, her voice dripping with mock exasperation. "Not even a little!"

Fred burst into laughter, clapping his hands together. "I've been telling him that for years, but does he listen? Never."

Cassie rolled her eyes, muttering, "I'm getting a mile away from that. Come on, Fred." She grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the kitchen. "Let's raid the pantry or something. I do not need to hear or see anything."

Fred followed her willingly, still chuckling. "You're the brains of this operation, Cass."

𝑴eanwhile, George was already a few steps behind Olympia on the stairs, the creak of the old wood under their feet muffled by their quickened breaths. Before they even made it halfway up, George reached out, grabbing her wrist gently and spinning her around. Without a word, he pulled her into a messy, urgent kiss, his hands finding her waist and drawing her closer.

Olympia gasped softly against his lips, but she didn't hesitate, her arms wrapping around his neck as she melted into him. The heat between them was undeniable, fueled by the adrenaline of sneaking off and the absence of the usual chaos of the house. The kiss was sloppy and heated, but neither of them seemed to care, their laughter muffled between breaths.

"George," Olympia murmured between kisses, her hands tangling in his damp hair. "We're not even-"

"Shh," George whispered, grinning against her lips as he began walking backward, leading her up the remaining steps without breaking the kiss. "Couldn't help myself."

Barely making it to his room, George fumbled for the doorknob, his free hand still gripping her waist as they stumbled inside. The door clicked shut behind them, cutting off the noise from downstairs. The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn slightly, casting a soft glow over the bed and the scattered belongings that screamed of Fred and George's shared chaos.

"Always sneaking off, aren't we?" she teased breathlessly, her lips brushing his jaw as she smiled against his skin.

George grinned, his voice low and teasing. "What can I say? You're irresistible."

Neither of them noticed the increased muffled sounds from downstairs-everything long forgotten as the moment consumed them. It wasn't about going further than before; it was about the tension and connection between them, the shared thrill of being young, reckless, and hopelessly drawn to one another.

"I think," Olympia whispered, her voice catching as George's hands moved to rest at her sides, his thumbs brushing her ribs, "you've got a lot more confidence than you should."

George chuckled, his grin cocky as he leaned back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. "You don't seem to mind."

And she didn't.

George was caught entirely off guard when Olympia, her smirk bold and teasing, took his hand and led him to the bed. "Oh, taking charge now, are we?" he teased, though his voice held a surprised edge.

"Someone has to," Olympia quipped, pushing him gently onto the bed. George fell back with a soft thud, his grin widening as she climbed over him, her hair falling around her face. "You're far too cocky for your own good, Weasley."

"And you love it," George countered, his hands finding her waist as she leaned down. Their lips met again, their snogging quickly heating up as her fingers tangled in his hair. His hands slid along her back, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, lost in the reckless excitement of the moment.

Then he heard it-the unmistakable sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Familiar footsteps.

"Bloody hell," George muttered, his eyes snapping wide open. His ears perked at the slight creak of the top step.

It was his mum.

And Molly Weasley never knocked.

Without a second thought, his body moved on instinct. "Sorry!" he whispered hurriedly to Olympia, who looked up at him in confusion, just as he flipped her off of him in one swift motion. Her soft yelp was cut off as she was unceremoniously shoved under his bed. The moment her body disappeared beneath the frame, George yanked the blankets up over himself, pulling them to his chin just as the door swung open.

Underneath the bed, Olympia lay frozen, her heart racing from the unexpected move. The wooden slats of the bed frame loomed just inches above her face, and her cheek pressed against the cool wooden floor of the burrow. She tried not to breathe too loudly, her wide eyes darting around the dimly lit space. A stifled huff of indignation escaped her as her brain caught up to what had just happened. Shoved under a bed like a contraband Firewhisky bottle?

She frowned, noticing the clutter around her. It was a chaotic assortment of George's belongings, a true glimpse into his haphazard organizational style. There was a dusty old Quidditch magazine with its cover barely clinging on, a couple of mismatched socks that seemed to have taken permanent residence there, and a small box containing what appeared to be prank prototypes-some emitting faint pops and fizzles of magic. She grimaced as her hand brushed against a sticky wrapper from a Chocolate Frog, the remnants of which were likely smeared somewhere under her.

Her gaze shifted to a suspiciously sparkly object-a crumpled piece of tinsel, no doubt from a past Weasley family Christmas, wedged against the leg of the bedframe. Beside it sat an unlit Zonko's dungbomb, far too close for comfort. She resisted the urge to groan, biting her lip hard to keep from making a sound. Brilliant hiding spot, George.

As muffled voices drifted in from above, Olympia curled herself tighter, her fingers clutching the edge of the bedframe. She mentally added 'kill George Weasley' to her to-do list as she tried to make herself invisible amidst the mess.

Molly Weasley stepped in, her sharp eyes scanning the room, her hands on her hips. "George," she began, her tone brisk. "Why are you lounging about? Dinner's in less than an hour, and the Harringtons will be here any minute."

George nodded quickly, sitting up slightly but keeping the blankets firmly in place over his bare chest. "Yep. Got it, Mum. I'll, uh, get ready soon."

Molly's eyes narrowed slightly, taking in his disheveled hair, flushed face, and the fact that he was shirtless and clearly pretending to act natural. She raised a brow but seemed to decide against pursuing it. She learned long ago to stop questioning her sons' antics after having six of them. She really rather just not know. "Hmm. Anyway, be on your best behavior tonight. Oh, and George-"

"Yes, Mum?" George asked, his voice a little too high-pitched as he tried to suppress his nervousness.

Molly gave him a knowing look, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "Be nice to Olympia for me, would you? I think she has a little crush on you."

George stifled a laugh, his lips twitching as he nodded. "Yeah, okay, Mum."

Molly, satisfied, turned on her heel and left the room, muttering something about needing to check on Fred as the door closed behind her.

For a moment, the room was silent. Then George burst into laughter, throwing the blankets off and leaning over the side of the bed to peer at her. "Awww, do you have a crush on me, Harrington?" he teased, his grin wide and absolutely delighted.

Olympia smirked, her earlier embarrassment melting away as she leaned closer to George. "You're insufferable" she murmured, her voice low and teasing. Before he could come up with a retort, she kissed him again, her fingers threading through his hair as she took control of the moment. Her boldness left George momentarily stunned, but he quickly melted into the kiss, his hands finding her waist as he pulled her closer.

The kiss lingered, heated and full of unspoken teasing, before Olympia pulled back with a satisfied smile. She slid off him with an air of triumph, leaving George sitting there, his expression a mixture of frustration and amusement.

As she stood, brushing off her clothes, George groaned dramatically and threw himself flat onto the bed, his arm flopping over his eyes. "Why do you do this to me?" he whined, his voice muffled.

Olympia chuckled, crossing her arms as she looked down at him with a raised brow. "Do what, exactly?"

George peeked out from under his arm, his eyes narrowing playfully. "You know exactly what. You take over, leave me completely undone, and then just waltz away like it's nothing."

She smirked, clearly enjoying her upper hand. "Maybe I like keeping you on your toes."

"Yeah, well," George muttered, flinging his arm down dramatically and staring at the ceiling, "you're going to be the death of me."

Olympia laughed, leaning down slightly to look him in the eye. "Oh, come on, Weasley. Don't act like you don't love it."

George tilted his head to look at her, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. "I didn't say I didn't love it. I just want it on record that you're a menace."

"Duly noted," Olympia replied, her grin widening as she straightened up. "Now, you might want to fix your hair and put on a shirt before your mum wonders what's taking so long."

George groaned again, reaching out to grab her hand as she started to step away. "You're cruel, Harrington."

"Cruel?" she teased, leaning back down briefly to kiss his cheek. "You're still breathing, aren't you?"

George chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Barely."

Olympia laughed, pulling her hand free and heading toward the door. "I'll see you downstairs, drama king." She glanced back over her shoulder with a playful smirk. "Try not to look too undone."

George watched her go, shaking his head as he sat up. "Merlin help me," he muttered to himself, still grinning.