The Burrow was warm in that particular holiday way. Too many jumpers draped over chairs, the faint smell of cinnamon and something Molly had left simmering on the stove. Fairy lights glowed along the crooked banister, and laughter drifted from somewhere upstairs where George was definitely up to no good.

You padded down the hallway, mug warm between your hands, when you saw him.

Fred was leaning casually against the doorway to the sitting room, arms folded, one shoulder braced against the frame like he’d been there a while. Above his head, tied neatly to a crooked nail, hung a sprig of mistletoe.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just watched you with that familiar, knowing grin, eyes flicking up for half a second before meeting yours again.

You stopped short. “You’ve got to be joking.”

He tilted his head, just enough to draw attention upward. “Rules are rules.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes, but your heart gave an embarrassing little leap anyway. “You’re ridiculous,” you said, even as you stepped closer. “Did you actually plan this?”

Fred shrugged, deceptively innocent. “Maybe.”

Before you could come up with a proper retort, he pushed off the doorway and closed the distance between you. One hand lifted, gentle as he brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering near your cheek.

Your breath caught.

“Fred—” you started, but the rest of it disappeared as he leaned in.

The kiss was soft at first, teasing, like he was testing the moment just to see if you’d pull away. You didn’t. Instead, you melted into it, fingers curling into the fabric of his jumper as his lips pressed to yours again, a little firmer this time.

You could feel him smiling against you.

He deepened the kiss just enough to make your head spin, the world narrowing down to warmth and the quiet hum of the house around you. Somewhere in the background, a floorboard creaked. Neither of you moved. He let the moment linger, slow and unhurried, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

When he finally pulled back, it was only by an inch. Just enough to look at you properly.

His eyes were bright, pleased, and unmistakably smug.

He gave you a quick wink. “See?” he said softly. “Best rule-following ever.”