𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑦 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙 - 𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑊𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑦

Chapter Seven

I woke up to the sound of birds singing in the elm tree outside my window.

I whipped the covers off and practically ran over to my dresser, where I already had todays clothes laid out; a short green and white t-shirt and a blue skirt that went just below my knees.

I put my clothes on and brushed my hair, after taking it out of the plaits I had in last night, in order to make it wavy today. I tied it back into a half ponytail and walked over to my window, opening the curtains.

The sun leaked into my room, even though there wasn't much of it, seeing as it was only five thirty in the morning. I went over and opened my bedroom door and knocked on the bathroom door.

Hearing no response, I opened it and walked in. I went over to the sink and ran the tap, splashing cold water over my face. I turned the tap off, and dried my face with the fluffy towel on the rack.

The bathroom door opened, and Fred walked in, a towel wrapped around his waist being the only thing clothing him.

"Bloody hell, Fred! Are you trying to scar me for life?" I burst out.

"Sorry! Didn't realise you were in here!" he exclaimed.

I covered my eyes and ran my hand along the wall so I could make my way out. When I'd left the room, Fred closed the door behind me.

"Bloody hell." I muttered to myself, walking into the twins room. "Wake up, George!" I said brightly, opening the curtains.

George only groaned and rolled over, facing the wall. I walked over to him.

"You aren't naked, are you?" I asked him.

"No, why-?" he began, but stopped as I pulled the covers off him. "Hey! I'm trying to sleep!"

"Too bad, we're going to Hogwarts today!" I said.

"Yeah, the train leaves at eleven and it's...." he checked his watch. "Five thirty."

"You are hopeless at getting up, George Fabian Weasley." I sighed, throwing the covers back onto his bed.

"I know. Now let me stay in bed for at least half an hour." George begged.

"Fine." I retorted. "But I'm not moving until you wake up." I added, sitting down on Fred's bed.

"You do that." yawned George, pulling the covers up to his face so that only his red hair was visible.

I laid my head on Fred's soft pillow. It was so soft that I almost fell asleep, but I somehow managed to stay awake.

After ten minutes or so, Fred walked in, wearing a baggy red t-shirt and blue jeans. His wet hair dripped onto the floor as he walked.

He spotted me on his bed and walked over. "Why are you on my bed?" he asked.

"I'm waiting for George to get up, besides, it's comfy. Don't make me move, or feel the wrath of Marlene Dursley." I threatened, pointing a finger at him warningly.

"Ok, ok!" he said, holding his arms up. "I was just wondering."

"Well, now you know." I replied. "Also, how is your pillow so soft?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, I've had it forever. I guess it's from being used or something like that."

I nodded, standing up. "Sit down." I commanded him. "Let me do your hair."

He sat down on his bed, handing me his hairbrush. "Can you make it look nice, so that girls will see me and go 'Wow, he's so hot!' and fall in love with me?" he requested.

I rolled my eyes. "No, I won't. We're still eleven, you don't need a girlfriend just yet."

He laughed. "You know I was just joking, right?"

"Definitely." I said sarcastically. "Yep."

"Whatever. Now quickly, I'm hungry!" he exclaimed.

***

I had finished doing Fred's hair, and George had gotten up, showered and dressed and the three of us were heading downstairs for breakfast, talking about the Hogwarts houses.

"Personally, I wouldn't mind being in Slytherin," I said, "But I would much rather Gryffindor. I could be any house apart from Hufflepuff, really, seeing as I have no patience whatsoever."

"I suppose it wouldn't be too bad, but I definitely have my mind set on Gryffindor." replied Fred.

George merely yawned in response, still tired after having woken up so early. Well, early for him. Fred and I were definitely morning people, as well as night-owls.

We came into the kitchen, smelling bacon and eggs. Fred inhaled deeply, his nose guiding him over to the table.

"Morning kids!" said Molly warmly as we sat at the table.

"Morning, Molly!" I replied, digging into my food.

Fred and George were already too busy stuffing their faces to respond. I rolled my eyes at their childish behaviour, then began wolfing down my own breakfast.

"So, who's excited?" asked Molly, while frying some bacon.

"Me!" the three of us cried out, our mouths stuffed with food. A drip of egg-yolk ran down George's chin as he said it, and I snorted, but ended up choking. It took several moments until I could breathe again.

George swallowed his mouthful and wiped his chin with the sleeve of his checkered blue-and-white flannel shirt. "That's what you get for laughing at me!" he said.

"Whatever." I said, taking a sip of my orange juice.

We finished our breakfast just as Charlie and Percy came down. "Morning, Mar!" said Charlie, giving me a warm hug.

"Morning!" I replied, walking upstairs with the twins. It seemed that I was Charlie's favourite sibling, even though I wasn't technically his sister.

The three of us went into our rooms, grabbed our trunks and dragged them downstairs, putting them next to the front door.

We ran back upstairs and into the twins room. George laid down on his bed gladly, and Fred and I sat on Fred's bed, leaning our backs against the wall.

I checked my watch, it said eight fourteen. "We've got a little less than three hours until we have to be on the train, so what should we do?" I asked.

"Sleep." said George. "If you guys won't, I am, so shut up."

"I'm scared for when he's a tired teenager." I whispered.

"Yeah, it'll be traumatising." murmured Fred.

There was a few minutes of silence between us until Fred broke it.

"Can I try plaiting your hair?" he asked me quietly.

"Oh, yeah, sure." I replied, a bit surprised at his request.

I took out the hair tie that was in my hair and turned around so that Fred could plait it.

After about ten minutes, he had finished. "Go have a look." he said, gesturing at the mirror. "I think it's pretty good."

I walked over to the mirror, and gasped. "It's amazing! Where did you learn to do that?" I asked turning around so that I could view it at all angles.

"I sort of just watched you plait your hair, and I practiced with Ginny sometimes, and over the years it got pretty good." Fred responded.

"Not good, brilliant!" I said, sitting back down. He grinned sheepishly, running a large hand through his hair.