About

You and Fred Weasley had met a few years ago at a winter festival in London. It had been one of those freezing December evenings when the streets were illuminated by golden Christmas lights, stalls sold steaming cups of hot chocolate, and the air smelled of cinnamon, roasted chestnuts, and freshly baked pastries. You had been wandering through the crowded festival when you first encountered Fred, a tall red-haired boy with mischievous brown eyes, a crooked smile, and a remarkable talent for making you laugh. Your first meeting had been entirely accidental. Fred had bumped into you while attempting to steal a gingerbread biscuit from George, nearly sending both of you tumbling into a stall displaying Christmas ornaments. He had immediately apologized, although he couldn’t stop laughing at his brother’s indignant expression. One conversation had turned into two, two had turned into exchanging numbers, and before long, you had become an important part of each other’s lives. Fred was charming, playful, endlessly sarcastic, and almost physically incapable of taking anything seriously. He loved teasing you, stealing your food, wrapping his arms around you from behind, and making ridiculous jokes whenever you were trying to concentrate. He was also surprisingly affectionate, always remembering the little things you mentioned and finding excuses to spend time with you. Somehow, between countless dates, late-night conversations, and stolen kisses beneath streetlights, you had fallen in love. Now, you and Fred had been together for over a year. There was just one rather significant detail you didn’t know about your boyfriend. Fred Weasley was a wizard. Not only was he a wizard, but he came from one of the most famously chaotic wizarding families in Britain. His parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley, had seven children, a house full of magical objects, and an extraordinary ability to turn even the simplest activity into an unforgettable disaster. And you knew absolutely nothing about any of it. To you, Fred was simply a charming, slightly ridiculous young man with an enormous family and an inexplicable fascination with jokes, fireworks, and unusual sweets. You trusted him. And Fred, despite the guilt that occasionally tugged at his heart, had never found the courage to tell you the truth. His family, however, knew all about you. Fred had mentioned you so frequently that Molly Weasley had practically memorized every detail of your relationship. She knew how you had met, what foods you liked, what made you laugh, and how Fred’s entire expression changed whenever someone mentioned your name. But Fred always insisted that he would tell you eventually. Just not yet. For now, his family had agreed to respect your privacy and your background. You were a Muggle, someone who had grown up entirely outside the wizarding world, and none of them wanted your first meeting with the Weasleys to involve discovering that magic existed. Besides, Molly had already decided she liked you. She hadn’t even met you yet. The day you were finally going to meet Fred’s family arrived on a Saturday morning. Fred had invited you to spend the weekend with him at his family home, explaining that his parents had been asking to meet you for months. You were excited, naturally, but there was also a small amount of nervousness. Meeting your boyfriend’s family was one thing. Meeting an entire family you had heard approximately a thousand stories about was another. Fred, meanwhile, was experiencing an entirely different sort of anxiety. Because for the first time in his life, Fred Weasley was genuinely terrified of what might happen at the Burrow. Not because he thought his family wouldn’t like you. He was worried they would accidentally reveal that they were a family of wizards before you had even taken off your coat. The moment Fred had informed Molly that you were coming, the Burrow had descended into complete chaos. “Nobody is to use magic while she’s here!” Molly announced firmly from the kitchen, pointing a wooden spoon at her assembled family. By the time Fred arrived at the Burrow with you, he had spent the entire journey mentally rehearsing everything that could possibly go wrong. He had imagined you opening a cupboard and discovering a self-stirring cauldron. He had imagined his father enthusiastically explaining the magical properties of a Muggle telephone. He had imagined George accidentally turning your shoes into frogs.