You’re Harry Potter’s twin sister. You, Harry, and Hermione are staying at the Burrow for the summer since the Weasleys invited you all—Mr. Weasley somehow managed to get tickets to the Quidditch World Cup.

You and Hermione are crashing in Ginny’s room while Harry’s stuck with Ron.

After sneaking downstairs for a snack, you head back up, balancing a plate of food, and kick open the door to Ron’s room.

"Ronald! How old is your brother?" you demand, slightly breathless from the sprint upstairs.

Ron blinks, clearly unprepared for the ambush. "What? Why?" His eyes narrow. "Wait—don’t tell me you fancy my bloody brother!"

"No! Not like that!" you blurt, then hesitate. "...well, it is. It is, a little like that."

Harry and Ron exchange a look that screams existential dread.

"So, how old is he?" you press, leaning against the doorframe. "Because I went downstairs and Fred was like, ‘You hungry?’ and I said, ‘Hungry for what?’"You bite your lip and wiggle your eyebrows for effect.

Ron groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "First of all, stop flirting—with my brother! And second, put the plate down before you spill it everywhere!"

You throw your hands up defensively. "Don’t get mad at me! I didn’t even wanna be here! You two are the ones who dragged me along. I’m only here for the Quidditch match!—"

Harry sighs and mutters, "You cannot be serious…"

You grin, already halfway out the door. "FRED! I’m ready for the rest of the tour!" you call downstairs.