Photograph | fred weasley x reader

The Smelly Old Shoebrush

"Morning, hobgoblin," a soft voice broke your slumber. You groaned as the light pierced through your shut eyelids and you threw your hands over your face. You squeezed your fingers against your eyes as though you could block out the day. You felt a hand gently shake your shoulder and you groggily pushed it away, almost hissing like a cat.

"Will I ever get sleep in this house?" You mumbled inaudibly and rolled over to your side. You suddenly found yourself suspended in the air for half a second, and realised that you were plummeting to the floor, face-first. You landed with a soft thud, your forehead bumping against carpet. Two very loud boys roared with laughter and you quickly rolled over onto your back and sat up, forcing your tired eyes open.

You realised that you'd been asleep on the sofa, and not in your bed like usual. Fred sat stretched out on the sofa cushion and George stood by the arm rest- both of their faces were red with laughter.

You sat on the floor, confused for a moment. And then you realised, as you looked over the mess of pillows and blankets next to Fred, that you must have been sleeping on his lap. Your ears turned pink as you scrabbled about on the floor, your legs tangled in a knitted blanket. The boys only laughed louder at the sight of you stuck like a fish in a net and you huffed loudly.

"I hate you both," you hissed, dramatically flopping onto your back.

Fred continued to laugh, now wiping tears from his eyes, as George shuffled over to help you up. "Come on, Y/N, no time for laying about on the floor. Mum says we've got to be at Diagon Ally in ten minutes. She's upstairs waking up Ron."

"Eh? Why are we going to Diagon Ally?" You asked, yawning as you spoke.

Fred chuckled. "Meeting Hermione...the leaky cauldron....book shopping. Oh, and don't forget we're meeting Harry now too, Dad said he blew up his aunt," he said, slightly condescendingly.

"Oh, right, yes," you mumbled, the day's plans slowly breaking through the fog and haze of sleep-deprivation. You glanced at the clock and realised it was much later than usual- it was almost lunchtime. Fred laughed and shook his head, noticing you looking at the time.

"Honestly, sleeping beauty, what time do you call this?"

You rubbed your eyes and threw your finger up at Fred. "Bugger off," you grumbled. Memories of the early morning flooded back—being jolted awake at 3 a.m. when the twins tested some kind of Waking Wafers they were developing. The sudden shock of cold air had sent you bolt upright, gasping, before you'd smacked them both on the back of the head. Somehow, they had managed to rope you into helping refine their formula, which had involved shoving a few potion books in their faces and using up what little brainpower you had left. You barely remembered collapsing onto the sofa, right on top of Fred, before exhaustion finally claimed you.

You looked at the twins, who smiled innocently at you. George looked you up and down, shaking his head, "you better get dressed before Mum comes back down."

Fred nodded, "yes, although I love how you look in my old t-shirt and your lovely potion-stained pyjama bottoms, I don't think you'll impress anyone in Diagon Ally with that ensemble."

You groaned loudly and stomped up the stairs, muttering a string of profanity under your breath. Within minutes, your teeth were brushed, your hair was thrown up into a half-assed ponytail and you were dressed in a simple pair of brown jeans and a fitted grey top. You stumbled back down to the awaiting Weasley family and spun around dramatically for the twins.

George clapped, "much better, N/N."

"You look perfect," echoed Fred.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring how your cheeks turned red, and hurried past them to grab your old trainers and thick cloak. Mrs Weasley appeared at the bottom of the stairs, pushing along a tired looking Ron. Scabbers poked up from his pocket.