❝ a darkness that holds me,
and loves when I bleed,
it locks all the doors and then hides all the keys,
wish someone had told me what I couldn't see,
a glimmer of hope that was staring at me ❞
fred weasley x fem!oc
golden trio era
[poa...
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ON NOVEMBER 11TH, just a few years after the Battle Of Hogwarts – once Rebecca had reached a good standing alongside Percy Weasley high in The Ministry that was now headed by Kingsley Shacklebolt, and talk of an expansion of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was in the works – there was to be a wedding. A big party; not that either of the intended couple had really wished it, to come full circle and celebrate love and family once more. With fluttering streamers and small, jingling golden bells, a portion of a wildflower meadow had been decorated for the event. Two medium sized marquees were set up on either side of one another, with the intentions of shielding the wedding party and immediate family from the warming sun in the later hours.
Around 7am that very same morning, Fred was awoken by a small jolt at his side – two cold, little hands pressed against his cheeks and smushing the skin of his face before a delighted giggle echoed in the room.
"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" Alya repeated happily as she bounced on her knees and shook her father's shoulders, "it's morning!"
Groaning dramatically as he stretched both arms overhead, Fred wiggled and flipped over – stifling his large smile behind the duvet as his daughter climbed over his torso to try and face him once more.
"Daddy!" She screeched in annoyance, poking at his face a few more times before letting herself drop into a criss-cross atop the mattress, "Wake up! We gots pancakes!"
"Pancakes you say?" Fred peeked one eye open, meeting the familiar hue of blue he had first fell in love with years ago, "well, why didn't you just say so?"
Fred only grinned wider as Alya's face contorted into one he knew mimicked her mother's – the look half crossed with both amusement and a slight annoyance. It made it ten times better that they looked extremely similar; the Black traits favouring their daughter while the Weasley genes had went to their son. The little girl donned the same dark hair as the Black heiress, only it fell down straight than curly, and the same glittering sapphire eyes that had a hold on nearly half of the family.
Scooping up his daughter, Fred got out of bed and tossed her over his shoulder. Alya squealed in delight, clutching onto the back of his fuzzy flannel pajamas as he clambered down the steps. Rounding the corner towards the kitchen, he found his own little lookalike sat at the dining table already. Elio, with most all the Weasley characteristics, sat in a slightly lofted chair, both his palms holding up his chin as he mouthed the words to the children's book he was trying to read; a plate of chopped up pancake steaming at his side. Settling Alya down next to her twin, Fred bent over and ruffled his son's mahogany hair before settling a kiss to his forehead.
