The Burrow was alive with laughter, the scent of Molly’s cooking drifting through the air as the sun set over the fields. You were sitting outside on the porch steps, absentmindedly plucking at a loose thread on your shorts when George dropped down beside you, bumping his shoulder into yours.

"You're awfully quiet," he mused, stretching his legs out in front of him.

You shrugged, tilting your head toward the golden sky. "Just… taking it all in."

He hummed in understanding before nudging your hand with his own, lacing your fingers together without a second thought. "Good summer so far?"

You turned to him, his freckled face bathed in warm light. "Yeah. Best one yet."

George grinned. "Well, it’s about to get even better."

Before you could ask, he tugged you to your feet and pulled you toward the orchard. The mischievous glint in his eye told you that whatever he had planned, it was bound to be unforgettable.