Photograph | fred weasley x reader

Christmas Morning at The Burrow

You let out a small, quiet yawn and stretched your arms out before rolling over onto your front. The warmth of your body heat underneath the pile of thick quilts made it impossible to want to get up. You pulled the F/C knitted blanket over your shoulders and bunched it underneath your chin, the fabric curled around your hands. A fresh new carpet of snow had fallen last night, and the air was crisp with a sharp winter chill.

The faint scent of the gingerbread biscuits Molly had baked the day before still lingered around you, warming your bones and relaxing your thoughts. There was a faint crunching sound, possibly the garden gnomes walking about in the thick, glittering white blanket outside. The quiet sounds filtered through the window, and dissipated into the silence of home. Everything was still and silent, and you grinned sleepily, grateful for the peace.

You nestled your cheek into the pillow, sliding your hands beneath it as a contented sigh escaped you. For once, your eyes were firmly shut, and nothing could disturb the blissful morning surrounding you.

"SCCCRROOOGGGCCHHH."

Your eyes snapped open. Ginny threw a hand carelessly over her face, knocking her hand against the wall. She didn't even stir. Her hair was stuck to her cheek and as she clumsily rolled over, she let out another very, very loud snore. This time it was followed by an incoherent rumbling, and it sounded like she was reciting some kind of hex.

You groaned and smacked your head onto the mattress with defeat. Ah, so close. You squeezed your eyes open and shut repeatedly, trying to get rid of the tired blur in your vision.

Before Ginny could accidentally curse you in her slumber, you forced yourself to sit up and rubbed your sleep-filled eyes. It was still quite dark in Ginny's room, so you, very unwillingly, swung your legs out from your little nest of blankets and stumbled half-asleep to the bathroom.

A loud jingle echoed through the quiet house as you shoved the door open, and you cursed softly under your breath. You had completely forgotten that Mr. Weasley had attached large, enchanted Christmas bells to every door handle, and now they were merrily singing:

"Oh, we are the Merriest of Bells!
Hear our song, hear our chime,
La, la, la, la, 'tis the season for feeling swell,
Rejoice, rejoice, it's Christmas time—!"

"Shh! Shhh!" you hissed urgently, pressing your hand over the gold-rimmed bells to silence them. You winced at the noise, cringing and tensing your shoulders, your eyes darting around nervously. The last thing you needed was to wake anyone up at this early hour.

After a long moment, the house trickled back into an undisturbed stillness. Ginny's soft snores, along with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's peaceful breathing, continued uninterrupted. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, your muscles finally loosening as the bells' song faded into silence.

You let out a relieved sigh and continued to the bathroom to brush through your hair and clean your teeth. Once you'd refreshed yourself and the groggy fog of tiredness started to lift, you tip-toed through the rooms- careful not to knock into any singing bells this time- and made your way down the stairs.

Christmas at The Burrow was truly something else. As you shuffled towards the kitchen, you grinned and paused to stare in awe at the decorations everywhere.

A large, plush green tree stood firmly by the stone fireplace, draped in red, silver, and gold tinsel that fluttered with a gentle enchantment. Baubles in shades of blue, gold, red, and white slowly spun, casting warm, fractured light onto the walls. Twinkling, glittering lights peeked from between the branches, each one flickering like a tiny flame. At the top, a beautiful star perched proudly, wearing a little knitted hat. As you walked past, one of its points lifted to tip the hat in a friendly bow.