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⁺⤾·˚.⃗.[ᴛᴡɪɴs, ᴛʀɪᴄᴋs, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ]𑁍ࠜೄ ˊˎ
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The Burrow
Village of Ottery St Catchpole
- Devon, England
( July, 1995. )

𝑻he Burrow was buzzing with weekend energy. Arthur had spent the morning rummaging through his stash of Muggle treasures in the shed, grinning like a schoolboy who'd discovered gold. By the time lunch rolled around, he'd burst into the kitchen, clutching a battered box labeled 'Clue' in bold, slightly faded letters.

"Muggle game time!" Arthur declared with childlike enthusiasm, holding the box aloft like it was the Philosopher's Stone.

Fred leaned over to George, muttering, "Muggle game time. Code for Dad testing out another one of his 'Muggle treasures.'"

George grinned. "I bet it'll explode halfway through."

"I heard that!" Arthur called, already pulling chairs around the kitchen table. "This, my children, is a brilliant Muggle invention. A board game. No magic required."

The group, consisting of Olympia, Cassie, Fred, George, Percy, and Atlas, exchanged dubious looks. Atlas had come home for the weekend, and Percy, uncharacteristically, had agreed to spend the day with the family instead of hiding in his room with work. Tension hung in the air between the two, lingering like a storm cloud that no one dared acknowledge.

"What's the game called?" Ginny asked, walking in with a plate of biscuits and plopping down at the table.

Fred attempted to awake Ron whom was lazily snoozing on the couch by thrusting a pillow at him, but it did absolutely nothing other than intensify the boy's snoring.

"Leave him he'll be out for another hour."Arthur waved his hand, turning to Ginny to answer her question. "Clue! It's a game of strategy, deduction, and, er... a bit of mystery! I believe the objective is to figure out who committed the murder." Arthur beemed.

"Murder?" Molly, walking past with a basket of laundry, raised an eyebrow. "Arthur, is this appropriate?"

"It's just pretend, dear!" Arthur replied, waving her off. "Now, everyone sit down!"

Within minutes, the game board was laid out, along with tiny tokens and an assortment of clue cards. Arthur meticulously read through the rulebook, muttering to himself as he tried to piece together the instructions.

"Alright, let's see here," Arthur said, furrowing his brow. "Each of us chooses a character. There's, uh, Professor Plum, Miss Scarlet, Colonel Mustard..."

Fred leaned over, grabbing the Miss Scarlet token. "Dibs on Miss Scarlet. I've always wanted to be a femme fatale."

"Of course you have," Cassie quipped, grabbing the Colonel Mustard piece for herself.

George picked up Professor Plum, smirking. "I like a man of science."

Olympia rolled her eyes but reached for Mrs. Peacock. "Guess I'll be the sensible one."

Ginny grabbed Mrs. White, while Percy chose Mr. Green with a self-satisfied smirk. Atlas, sitting stiffly across the table from Percy, was last to choose and silently took the remaining piece.

"I guess I'll be... whoever this is," Atlas said, examining the token like it might bite him.

"Alright, now the dice," Arthur said, holding them up. "You roll to move your character around the board and collect clues."

"Seems simple enough," Percy said, already scanning the rulebook over Arthur's shoulder.

Fred snickered. "Leave it to Percy to read the instructions like it's an O.W.L."

Percy shot him a look but said nothing, though his jaw tightened when he noticed Atlas smirking faintly across the table.

The first few rounds went relatively smoothly, with Arthur loudly narrating every move like a sports commentator. Fred and George quickly grew bored of playing by the rules and began subtly using magic.

"Confundus!" Fred whispered under his breath, pointing his wand at the dice before rolling. When the dice landed on a six, he beamed. "Miss Scarlet struts into the Ballroom."

"You can't just always roll sixes," Ginny said suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.

"Luck of the draw, Gin-Gin," Fred said, grinning as he leaned back in his chair.

It wasn't until George tried the same trick that things went awry. He cast a Confundus Charm on the dice, but instead of rolling a six, everyone's dice suddenly started landing on six. Every player moved the same number of spaces, causing utter chaos on the board.

"No magic!" Arthur huffed, quickly pulling the rules to his face to read over them once more.

"Now we're all stuck in the Conservatory," Percy muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is ridiculous."

Atlas, who had been quiet for most of the game, smirked. "At least you're consistent, Percy. Always complaining."

Percy's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing," Atlas said smoothly, though his tone was anything but innocent. "Just saying it's a bit nostalgic, that's all."

The table went silent for a beat, tension crackling between the two. Fred and George exchanged a look, their grins fading as they realized the storm brewing.

"Alright, back to the game!" Olympia said quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. "Whose turn is it?"

Cassie, clearly uncomfortable with the atmosphere, added, "I think it's mine. Let's just—oh wait, what's this?"

She pointed at George's token, which was stuck awkwardly in the middle of the board. "George, what exactly is your strategy?"

"Winning, obviously," George replied.

Cassie raised an eyebrow, pointing at his pile of clue cards. "George, you've been in the Ballroom for five turns and haven't collected a single clue."

Fred burst out laughing. "Brilliant strategy, brother. Truly groundbreaking."

George huffed, crossing his arms. "I'm playing the long game."

"Long game of losing," Cassie muttered, shaking her head.

Meanwhile, Arthur was still meticulously trying to piece together the clues, shuffling his cards and muttering to himself. "So it was the wrench... in the Library... by—no, that doesn't make sense."

"Dad, it's not that serious," Ginny said, biting into a biscuit.

Arthur looked up, affronted. "Not serious? Ginny, this is Muggle ingenuity at its finest! I must figure it out."

George leaned over to Olympia, whispering, "At this rate, he'll crack the case by Christmas."

The game devolved into chaos when Fred and George decided to enchant the tokens to 'act out' their characters. Miss Scarlet began strutting across the board unprompted, Professor Plum conjured a tiny potion vial, and Mrs. White kept whacking Colonel Mustard with her candlestick.

Molly returned from the garden just in time to see the board game pieces battling it out. "What is going on in here?!"

"Er... Muggle ingenuity!" Arthur said brightly, shoving the enchanted pieces behind his back.

The table erupted into laughter, the earlier tension between Percy and Atlas momentarily forgotten. Even Percy cracked a smile as Atlas muttered, "Only this family could turn a board game into a duel."

As the game wrapped up—with no clear winner—Fred declared, "I think the real winner is whoever cleans up this mess."

                         𝑻he Burrow's living room was packed with bodies and the sound of soft laughter as the Weasley family—plus Olympia and Cassie and Atlas—gathered around to watch a Muggle movie. Arthur had insisted on sharing 'The Wizard of Oz,' his latest Muggle discovery, much to the amusement of everyone else. The enchanted television hummed faintly in the corner, and the room was dimly lit, the glow from the screen casting flickering shadows across the cozy space.

Fred and Cassie were sprawled across the rug in front of the sofa, sharing a bowl of popcorn and making sarcastic comments about the movie's questionable logic. Ginny was curled up in the armchair with her own snack of Choco-Chunks, while Molly sat in her rocking chair, knitting something that suspiciously resembled a pair of socks. Arthur, perched in his favorite chair, was utterly captivated by the movie, occasionally exclaiming things like, "Incredible! Muggles really are ingenious!"

George and Olympia had claimed a spot on the end of the sofa, tucked under a shared blanket. To anyone watching, they seemed perfectly innocent—just two friends sharing a cozy moment during the family movie night. But under the cover of the blanket, George was anything but innocent.

It started innocently enough. His hand brushed hers as he reached for the popcorn bowl on her lap, lingering just a moment too long. Olympia glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her lips twitching into a faint smile, but said nothing. When he handed the bowl back, his fingers grazed hers again, this time deliberate.

As the movie progressed, George's hand found its way to her knee under the blanket. His touch was light, almost teasing, his thumb brushing slow circles against her skin. Olympia shot him a subtle look, raising an eyebrow in warning, but the hint of a smirk on her lips betrayed her amusement.

"Careful," she whispered softly, barely audible over the movie. "Your mum's right there."

George grinned, leaning slightly closer, his voice equally quiet. "That's part of the fun."

Olympia rolled her eyes but didn't move his hand, her cheeks flushing slightly as his fingers began to trace idle patterns on her leg. She shifted slightly, trying to appear nonchalant.

Meanwhile, on the floor, Fred and Cassie were oblivious to the subtle under-the-blanket antics. Cassie threw a piece of popcorn at the screen, laughing. "How is she supposed to walk in those shoes? They look like they'd kill your feet."

"Fashion over function," Fred replied sagely, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "Clearly a Muggle thing."

Arthur suddenly leaned forward, pointing at the screen. "Look at that! The house landed perfectly! How do Muggles manage such precision?"

Molly sighed, not looking up from her knitting. "Arthur, it's a film. None of this is real."

"Still impressive," Arthur muttered, settling back into his chair.

Olympia took the opportunity to elbow George lightly in the ribs, her glare softened by the faint smile tugging at her lips. "You're mad," she murmured.

George leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. "Then tell me to stop and I will."

Her cheeks burned, but she couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her. Under the blanket, his hand gave her knee a light squeeze before retreating slightly, as if to behave—though the glint in his eye promised otherwise.

Ginny, sitting in the armchair, suddenly turned her head toward them, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "What are you two whispering about?"

"Nothing," Olympia said quickly, her voice an octave too high.

"Just discussing the plot," George added smoothly, his face the picture of innocence.

Ginny eyed them for a moment longer before shrugging and turning back to the screen. "Weirdos."

Olympia let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. George only grinned, settling back into the sofa like nothing had happened, his arm resting casually along the back of the couch behind her.

As the movie continued, George behaved—for the most part. But every so often, his fingers would find hers under the blanket, giving them a small, playful squeeze that made her heart race just a little faster. Despite herself, she couldn't help but smile.

Percy sat in his usual spot near the edge of the room, his posture stiff and composed as always, pretending to be engrossed in the Muggle movie playing on the enchanted television. But in reality, his sharp eyes were observing something far more interesting than The Wizard of Oz. His gaze flicked subtly toward the end of the sofa, where George and Olympia were nestled under a shared blanket.

At first, Percy thought nothing of it. It wasn't unusual for them to sit close, given how much time the Harringtons spent at the Burrow. But something was... off. The way George's hand lingered a bit too long on Olympia's knee under the blanket, he could see the outline of his brother's hand, and the quiet smiles exchanged between them, the way Olympia's blush deepened whenever George whispered something in her ear—it all began to paint a picture that Percy hadn't seen before.

George's hand shifted slightly under the blanket, and Olympia gave him a subtle nudge, her lips twitching as though she was holding back a smile. Percy's eyes narrowed, realization dawning. They're not just friends.

Just as Percy opened his mouth to say something, his eyes locked with Atlas, who was sitting directly across from him. Atlas's sharp gaze caught Percy's inquisitive expression instantly, as though he had anticipated this exact moment. Without hesitation, Atlas gave Percy a pointed look, his expression hardening.

Then, almost imperceptibly, Atlas shook his head. It wasn't a casual shake, either—it was deliberate, a silent command that spoke two words: shut up.

Percy's lips pressed together, his mouth twitching as though he was fighting the urge to speak. He glanced back at George and Olympia, then back at Atlas, his brow lifting slightly in question. You know about this? his expression seemed to ask.

Atlas's only response was another shake of his head, sharper this time, and a faint narrowing of his eyes. Don't even think about it.

Percy leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening as he processed the unspoken exchange. He didn't know how to feel about this new revelation. On one hand, he was irritated at being left out of the loop; on the other, he couldn't help but admire how well George and Olympia had managed to keep their secret—until now.

Across the room, George, completely oblivious to Percy's scrutiny and Atlas's intervention, leaned closer to Olympia. His hand brushed hers under the blanket, and she shot him a quick look, half-annoyed, half-amused. "You're ridiculous," she whispered, so softly it was barely audible.

"And you love it," George replied just as quietly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Olympia rolled her eyes but didn't pull her hand away, her cheeks glowing faintly in the dim light. Percy caught the entire exchange, his sharp mind noting every detail.

Atlas, however, wasn't about to let Percy ruin the peace. With a final, firm look, he raised an eyebrow as if to say, Let it go.

Percy sighed, crossing his arms and settling deeper into his chair. For now, he would respect Atlas's unspoken warning and keep his observations to himself. But his curiosity was far from satisfied, and he couldn't help but wonder how long George and Olympia could keep up the act before the rest of the family caught on.

As the credits rolled on The Wizard of Oz, Arthur clapped his hands together, his face alight with excitement. "What a masterpiece! Did you see that tornado? Imagine what Muggle contraptions they must have used to create such effects!"

Molly chuckled, her needles clicking away at an impressive speed. "Yes, dear. Fascinating. Now, it's well past our bedtime."

Arthur glanced at the clock, his eyebrows lifting. "Blimey, you're right! Well, goodnight, everyone!" He leaned down to kiss Ginny on the head, and then the two of them headed upstairs, leaving the rest of the family in the dimly lit living room.

Ginny stood and stretched, letting out a yawn. "I'll help Ron with the dishes," she said, motioning toward the kitchen. Ron, already halfway to the sink, grumbled something about always being volunteered for chores.

As the sounds of running water and clinking dishes drifted from the kitchen, the atmosphere in the living room shifted. The cozy hum of family camaraderie faded, replaced by a thick silence. Percy, who had been sitting stiffly in his chair, leaned forward, his sharp gaze locking onto George and Olympia.

"So," Percy said, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade, "how long have you two been snogging?"

The room froze. Every eye turned to George and Olympia, who sat utterly still on the sofa. Olympia's cheeks flamed red as George's head snapped up, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and defiance.

"We're not!" George said quickly, his voice an octave higher than usual. "What are you on about, Percy?"

Percy leaned back, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. "Come off it. I've seen the way you two look at each other. You're about as subtle as a Hippogriff in a teashop."

George's jaw clenched, his knuckles tightening against the blanket still draped over his lap. "You're imagining things."

Percy barked out a laugh, crossing his arms. "Oh, am I? Funny, because I'm not the only one who's noticed." His gaze flicked to Ginny, who had paused in the kitchen doorway, and then to Atlas, whose sharp expression remained impassive.

Olympia opened her mouth to speak, but Atlas cut her off. "Shut the hell up, Percy."

The room turned to Atlas in surprise. His voice had been calm, but the weight behind his words was undeniable. Percy's smile faltered, replaced by a steely glare. "Or what, hmm?"

Atlas's jaw tightened. "—Or I'll tell everyone what you told me two summers ago."

A hush fell over the room, the tension snapping like a whip. Percy's face twisted, his composure cracking. He had only been joking. Poking fun. But now his smile had entirely dropped.

For the first time that evening, real emotion flickered across his features—hurt, disbelief, and anger all at once. His eyes burned, unshed tears glinting in the dim light. "Fuck. You." he spat, his voice low and trembling. Then, without another word, he stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoing up the stairs.

The silence that followed was deafening. George let out a low whistle, running a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell. He's going to tell Mum."

Atlas shook his head grimly, his expression hard as stone. "No, he won't."

George frowned. "How can you be so sure?"

Atlas didn't answer immediately, his eyes fixed on the doorway Percy had disappeared through. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but resolute. "Because."

Olympia glanced between Atlas and George, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What just happened? What did Percy tell you?"

Atlas shook his head again, this time more firmly. "Not my story to tell."

Fred, who had been watching the exchange with uncharacteristic silence, leaned forward, his face alight with curiosity. "Alright, but did anyone else notice Percy actually crying? I didn't think he had tear ducts."

George shot him a look. "Not the time, Fred."

"Sorry," Fred muttered, leaning back. "Still fuckin weird, though."

Olympia placed a hand on George's arm, her voice soft. "Are we... okay? I mean, if he does tell your mum—"

"He won't," Atlas interjected, his voice firm. "Trust me."

Ron reappeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel, his brow furrowed. "What on earth is going on? Percy looked like he'd just seen a Dementor."

"Nothing," Atlas said sharply. "He's fine."

From next to Ron, Ginny raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn't push. Instead, she glanced at George and Olympia, a flicker of understanding crossing her face. "You two might want to be more careful," she said simply before heading back to the kitchen.

George sighed, leaning back against the sofa. "Brilliant. Just brilliant."

Olympia nudged him gently, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Could've gone worse."

George shot her a look, but her teasing grin was contagious. He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

Fred let out a dramatic groan, throwing his hands in the air. "Can we at least get back to something fun? All this drama is exhausting."

George laughed, the tension easing just slightly. "Sure, Fred. Whatever you say."

But as the group slowly began to settle back into a semblance of normalcy, Olympias couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in her chest. Whatever Atlas had on Percy, it was big—and the fallout, if it ever came to light, would be even bigger.