Isn't He Lovely-Professor Snape

Summer Pt 3

(A.N hey guys I forgot to mention this last chapter but in this storyline Harry went straight to the burrow after the school year-so no one died and George didn't lose an ear :) enjoy!)

The residual excitement from last night's wedding kept practically everyone awake, their spirits buoyant with joy. However, for me, the ease of staying awake masked the deeper struggles that haunted my nights.

Ever since the harrowing kidnapping experience, the prospect of sleeping alone became a daunting task, especially as darkness enveloped the world outside. In the initial aftermath, Hermione had been a constant presence, sharing the bed to provide comfort. However, my frequent nightmares and screams of distress began to take a toll, prompting feelings of guilt for disturbing her sleep.

In an attempt to find a semblance of rest, my routine shifted. After dinner with the Weasleys, I would retire to Ginny's room, where a few hours of sleep became my respite. As the night unfolded, I would rejoin the living area, staying awake until Mrs. Weasley made her way downstairs around sunrise. With a blanket draped over me, I would catch another three hours of sleep until the household awoke.

This cycle persisted, a delicate dance to balance the need for rest with the challenges that plagued my nights. An hour-long nap at midday became a brief oasis in the demanding rhythm of my daily routine.

And then there were three," I joked, infusing a serious tone with a playful edge.

In the quiet of 3 a.m., the rest of the household had surrendered to sleep, leaving only Fred, George, and me awake. The excitement of spending the night with the mischievous duo had thrilled me. As we settled into the cozy living room with a crackling fire, I found myself on one couch while Fred and George occupied two others.

"Now that it's just us," Fred announced, unveiling a bottle of firewhisky.

"Perfect timing, Fred!" George grinned, his eyes reflecting the shared anticipation.

We each took a shot from the bottle, and the warmth of the firewhisky began to weave its spell. Eager to maintain the playful atmosphere, I proposed, "Let's play a game."

"What kind of game?" Fred inquired, a mischievous spark lighting up his eyes.

"How about a round of 'Two Truths and a Lie'?" I suggested, steering away from the previous dare.

"Deal," George agreed, pouring another round of shots.

"Freddie, truth or dare?" I asked, already plotting the mischief to come.

"Dare," he grinned, his eyes daring me to challenge him.

After a moment of contemplation, I decided on a different course. "I dare you to balance a spoon on your nose for a full minute," I challenged, a mischievous twinkle in my eye.

Fred's face registered a mix of surprise and determination as he accepted the challenge. Grabbing a spoon from the nearby table, he focused intently, attempting to prove his skill. George and I watched, holding our breath, as the spoon wobbled precariously but miraculously stayed in place. A collective cheer erupted as Fred completed the dare.

"Alright, Niamh, truth or dare?" George inquired, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Truth," I replied, bracing myself for whatever question he had in store.

"If you could have picked what year to be in—either Fred's and our year, or the year you're in now, which year would you pick?" George asked, throwing a playful curveball.

Caught in a moment of contemplation, I hesitated before sighing, "Hand over the bottle, Georgie."

"No fun!" They both laughed, amused by my evasion, as I reluctantly took a shot.