You had just arrived at the Burrow when Molly shooed you upstairs with a fond, “Go on, dear, Fred’s been waiting for you all day.”

You carried your bag up the crooked stairs, pushed open his bedroom door, and smiled. Same old Fred: clothes everywhere, a half-assembled prank on his desk, and his pillow tossed onto the floor like it had tried to escape.

He looked up from where he was sitting cross-legged on his bed, eyes brightening instantly.

“You made it,” he said, standing. Then, before you could even set your bag down, he added, “Wait here. Don’t move.”

And he bolted out of the room.

A minute later you heard quick footsteps thundering back up the stairs. Fred slipped inside, shutting the door behind him with the kind of excitement he only got when he was up to something.

A tin clasped in one hand, a CD in the other, and a grin that could’ve lit the whole Burrow on its own.

He held them out toward you. “For you.”

You blinked. “Did you bake?”

“I attempted to bake,” he corrected. “Lower your expectations before opening that tin.”

You lifted the lid and your heart did a tiny, stupid flip.

They were cookies.

Slightly uneven, one a little cracked at the edge, another shaped like it had fought a war and lost but they smelled warm and sweet.

“This is adorable,” you said softly.

“Don’t say adorable,” Fred warned. “Adorable is what you call a baby kneazle. I’m aiming for… incredibly impressive boyfriend material.”

“Well, you’re definitely something,” you teased.

He pretended to be offended before handing you the CD.

It was covered in doodled hearts, messy, rushed, unmistakably his. Across the front, in his slanted handwriting, he’d written: Our Songs.

You traced the title with your thumb. “Fred…”

He shrugged, trying to act casual but failing miserably. “It’s a mix of… you know. Stuff.”

“Stuff?” you asked

“Songs we danced to. Songs we kissed to. Songs we argued to. Thought it should all be in one place. In case you ever want to remember how ridiculous we are.”

Your chest tightened, warm and a little overwhelmed.

He leaned against the doorframe, that familiar mischievous grin tugging at his mouth.

“The playlist might make you fall in love with me all over again.” he said, voice low and teasing