𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙 - 𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑊𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑦

Chapter Two

I walked out of my room, across the landing and into Fred and George's room. "Wanna go for a walk?" I asked, going over and opening their curtains, as they had already got back in bed.

Fred groaned sleepily. "But I just got back in bed!" he complained.

"Fine, whatever. George? D'you want to?" I said, turning to George's bed. It was empty. "Where's George now?" I asked Fred.

"I think he went to have a shower." mumbled Fred, closing his eyes.

I left the room, closing the door behind me. I walked over to the bathroom door and knocked on it. "Georgie? You in there?"

"Yeah, hang on. Let me just put some clothes on." George's voice came through the closed door.

I leaned against the wall and waited. After about five minutes, he finally came out. "What took you so long?" I nagged, following him into his and Fred's room.

"Well I had to dry myself, didn't I?" said George, walking over to the drawers and pulling out his Weasley jumper. "Anyway, what do you want?"

"Wanna go for a walk? Frederick here can't seem to be bothered, so do you want to? " I asked, putting emphasis on the work 'Frederick'.

Fred threw a well-aimed pillow at me, hitting me in the head. "Don't call me Frederick!" he grumbled.

"See, he's all moody!" I said, rolling my eyes.

"Ok, I'll go. As long as we don't go too far." said George as I grabbed my leather satchel from my room and we headed downstairs.

"How about we go to the village and nick a copy of the Muggles newspaper for Arthur?" I suggested as we reached the kitchen.

"What's this about nicking a newspaper?" shot Molly as we approached the front door.

"Er.. nothing, we're just going for a walk to the village!" stuttered George, his hand on the door-handle.

Molly tutted, but let us leave. "Be back by seven a.m!" she called after us.

"See you then!" I called over my shoulder, shutting the door behind us.

George chuckled as we set off across the lawn.

"Wow, it's hot!" I exclaimed, taking off my jumper. "I'm gonna leave this on the doorstep for when we come back."

"Ok, good idea." said George, taking his jumper off too and setting it down among the muddy wellington boots and rusty cauldrons littering the step.

We walked down to the village of Ottery St. Catchpole in the sweltering heat of the sun, which had fully risen now.

I picked up a large leaf off the ground and started fanning myself with it. I threw it away after a few moments, realised it made no difference whatsoever.

George pointed out a large shady oak tree to rest under. We ran over to it and fell onto the dry grass.

"Why does it have to be so hot?" I moaned, closing my eyes and basking in the shade.

"Yeah, why can't it be winter already?" complained George, fanning his face with his huge hand.

"And why the hell are your hands so big?" I croaked, propping myself up on my elbows.

"I dunno, genetics?" he muttered, leaning against the large trunk of the oak tree. "Dad's hands are pretty big."

"Yeah, but then why are his hands so big?" I asked.

George shrugged. "Don't ask me. We should probably keep going if we ever want to make it to the village." he stated, getting up from the hard ground.

I nodded, struggling to stand. George offered me his hand. I grasped it, and he pulled me up.

"Your hands are so cold!" I gasped, grabbing onto his hand again. "How?"

"Who knows?" he responded, allowing me to hold his freezing cold hand up to my face.

We walked on for a bit longer, until we reached the village. Spotting the newspaper stand, I pulled George over to it. "Let me handle this." I whispered to him.

I smiled in greeting at the tall, good-looking newspaper boy, and pretended to take interest in today's paper.

I picked one up, scanning the headline without seeing it. "How much are these?" I asked the boy.

"Three pounds each." he answered, grinning at me.

"Could they be any cheaper?" I asked him. "Maybe for free?" I batted my long eyelashes.

He laughed. "No, sorry. Doesn't matter how good-looking you are, always going to be three pounds." he said, winking at me.

"Oh, such a shame." I said, clicking my tongue. "I don't have any money on me. George, do you?"

"No," said George, glaring at the paper boy. "I don't."

The paper boy didn't seem to see George, he was just staring at me, smiling. A little creepily, to be honest. "You want me to pay for you?" he asked me, taking out some coins from his pocket.

"Would you? Oh, yes please!" I said, pretending to be flattered.

He put the coins in the till and handed me a newspaper. I folded it up and tucked it into my satchel.

"See you around!" said the boy hopefully, waving at me as I walked away with George.

"See you," I replied, winking at him. As soon as we were out of sight, I said, "Bloody hell, he's a weirdo!"

"Glad you noticed," said George, shaking his head but smiling slightly.

We headed towards the Burrow, newspaper hand in hand, talking about Hogwarts.