The Burrow was warm and cozy, the scent of freshly baked bread lingering in the air as you stretched out on the couch, book in hand. The pages pulled you in, the world outside fading as you read. It wasn’t until a shadow fell over you that you realized you were no longer alone.

Glancing up, you found Fred hovering above you, his arms braced on either side of the couch, caging you in. His usual mischievous grin was in place, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Comfortable, are we?” he drawled, tilting his head.

“I was,” you said pointedly, though your heart skipped a beat at his closeness.

Fred smirked. “Must be a good book, seeing as you didn’t notice me standing here for a whole minute.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe I just didn’t think you were worth looking up for.”

He let out a mock gasp, hand flying to his chest. “Wounding my pride now, are we? And here I was, thinking I was your favorite Weasley.”

You hummed, pretending to think. “Molly does make a mean treacle tart…”

Fred narrowed his eyes before, without warning, he dipped lower, his nose nearly brushing yours. “I could always win you over with my charm instead,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched, but you refused to give in so easily. “You’d have to try harder than hovering over me like a lost puppy.”

His grin widened. “Oh, I intend to.”

And with that, he reached out, plucked the book from your hands, and dashed off with a laugh, leaving you sputtering and chasing after him.