You were Rosalind Potter, you were Harry Potter's older sister and you were the bestfriend of the Weasley Twins since first year. You and Fred dated in sixth year after the kiss in a kayak at night off curfew, it was Fred's idea.

Now you and Fred were 20 years old and you're both married, you were pregnant of 4 months. It was summer so today you wanted to go outside so you put a sundress because it was hot.

You lived in The Burrow with your husband and you go down the stairs, founding Fred reading a book on the couch while the others were playing and screaming outside, wanting to spend time outside by this heat.

Molly was in the kitchen and cooking the dinner. Fred lifted his gaze from the book and his jaw dropped when he saw you and your beautiful dress, showing your bump, you were gorgeous.

"Look at my wife..."

Fred said, looking at you slowly up and down, admiring you like you're a piece of art found in a museum, which you were for him. You giggle at what he said but he didn't stop.

"This perfection, how did I got that."

Fred continues, his book now on his lap as he admire you, his arms resting on the back of the couch. Everything was beautiful on you, everything, and Fred loves to admire you.