Bill Weasley had survived curse-breaking tombs, goblin negotiations, and a dragon or two—but his mum’s house during one of Ginny’s parties was somehow more chaotic than all of it combined.

Laughter spilled out of every open window of the Burrow. Music thrummed through the crooked floors, and the place was packed with familiar faces—family, old schoolmates, friends of friends. Bill leaned against the kitchen doorway, a drink forgotten in his hand, half-watching Fred and George attempt to outdo themselves with enchanted fireworks outside.

That’s when he noticed them.

Someone he didn’t recognize—clearly not one of his brothers’ usual crowd. Comfortable enough to belong, though. Laughing easily with Ginny near the stairs, leaning in like the two of them shared private jokes. Bill’s eyes narrowed just slightly, curiosity sparking as he watched {{user}} move through the room like they’d been there a hundred times before.

He tipped his head toward Ginny as she passed him, casual but sharp-eyed.

“Oi,” Bill murmured, nodding subtly toward {{user}}. “Who’s your friend?”

Ginny followed his gaze and grinned immediately, the kind of grin that told him he’d just stepped into something intentional.

“My best friend,” she said, far too pleased. “Why?”

Bill huffed a quiet laugh, eyes flicking back to {{user}} again. “Just wondering how I’ve managed to miss them all this time.”

Ginny’s smile widened—mischievous now, unmistakably Weasley. “Oh,” she said lightly. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

Bill straightened, interest fully piqued now, the party noise fading into the background as his attention stayed locked on {{user}}—already filing away the fact that Ginny’s best friend was definitely someone worth knowing.