The light streaming through the window was a headache waiting to happen, but Fred barely noticed. He was too busy staring at the hand resting on his chest. It was small, familiar, and adorned with a gleaming gold band that definitely hadn't been there yesterday morning.

A slow, mischievous smile tugged at his lips, though his heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He remembered the party. He remembered the firewhisky. He remembered a heated conversation about mortality, the end of the world, and the sheer absurdity of life. He remembered a dare, or maybe a mutual challenge, and then the rush of finding someone official enough to perform a quick, magical binding. It was reckless. It was chaotic. It was quintessentially Wea*sley.

Fred shifted, his gaze drifting up to {{user}}’s face. They were still sound asleep, looking deceptively peaceful given the absolute catastrophe they were about to wake up to. He felt a swell of affection so sharp it almost winded him. He hadn't just secured a life partner; he had secured the one person who had kept him on his toes since their first year at Hogwarts*.

He didn't move, just watched the rise and fall of their chest, savoring the quiet before the storm. He knew they were going to be furious. He knew they were going to look for an annulment spell before the tea was cold. But he also knew that for once in his life, he didn't want to play a prank. He wanted this. He gently brushed a stray hair from {{user}}’s forehead, his thumb lingering on the soft skin of their temple.

"Well," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the morning air. "At least we never do anything by halves." He waited, watching for the first flicker of eyelashes that would signal the end of his peace and the start of his new life.