The heat of the July afternoon has turned the Burrow into a kiln, and the only reprieve is the shade of the tall grass down by the pond. You’re lying on an old, moth-eaten picnic blanket, staring up at the clouds, when a shadow looms over you.

"Move over, you’re hogging the only patch of grass that doesn't feel like a dragon's breath," Fred says, not waiting for an invitation before he flops down beside you.

He’s lanky and warm, his shoulder pressing firmly against yours. Usually, this kind of contact is effortless, but lately, every time Fred’s skin brushes yours, it feels like a low-level Incendio spell is going off under your skin. He’s been different this summer—quieter in the moments when it’s just the two of you, and strangely, even more physically present.

"You're sweaty, Weasley," you tease, though your voice lacks its usual bite.

"I’ve been desnoming for Mum," he huffs, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you. His ginger hair is a mess, a few blades of grass stuck in the mess of it, and his eyes are tracing the line of your jaw with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. "It’s manual labor. Very heroic. You should be swooning, really."

"I'll work on my swoon for later," you mutter, turning your head to look at him.

The playfulness in his expression flickers and dies, replaced by a raw, concentrated focus. He reaches out, his thumb catching a stray lock of your hair and tucking it behind your ear. His hand lingers there, his fingers sliding back to cup the nape of your neck, his palm hot and heavy.

"You know, George asked me why I haven't tried out the new 'Patented Daydream Charms' on you yet," Fred whispers, his voice dropping into that low, private register that always makes your stomach flip.

"And?" you breathe.

"And I told him I didn't need a charm to see you in my head all day," he replies. It’s the most honest thing he’s ever said to you. Before you can process it, he’s moving—not with the hesitation of a best friend, but with the confidence of a man who has run out of patience.