Weasley, Amora Adele. Molly and Arthur Weasley's gorgeous daughter, the youngest of the Weasley triplets, Fred and George. The redhead clan's first daughter. She is a prefect and the Captain for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, playing as a chaser.
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"This one looks good,"
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Amora's POV
"Okay- we just went grocery shopping a day ago... How did it all go away?" I mumble as Vik pushes the trolley beside me.
He chuckles, "That's what happens when we got my family coming in with your brothers for the whole afternoon yesterday,"
I sigh softly, "And your family is staying for two more nights- okay.. So I got a list here,"
Vik stops us in front of the frozen aisle, "Alright- talk to me sweets,"
I hum, "We're gonna need eggs, bacon, hotdogs, two packs of butter, two whole chicken, olive oil, two packs of small soft drinks which are mixed-"
Vik chuckles and stops me, "Okay- now that's a lot." He peeps down on my list, "Well- We better start then, I'll get ourselves another trolley,"
The fluorescent lights of the supermarket hummed a monotonous tune, a stark contrast to the low hum of conversation and the rustling of shopping bags around me. The trolley, already a testament to my meticulous grocery planning, felt heavy in my arm, laden with vibrant vegetables and fragrant herbs. Viktor, ever the slightly bored yet cheerful companion, trailed behind, his trolley surprisingly empty, humming a tuneless melody that somehow managed to be both irritating and endearing. I consulted my list, the familiar script a comforting presence in the bustling environment: eggs, bacon, hotdogs – the essentials for a few more days with Vik's family in the house.
Navigating the crowded aisles felt like a carefully choreographed dance, a delicate balance between avoiding collisions and efficiently locating the items on my list. The eggs were a simple task, a quick grab from the refrigerated section. But the bacon presented a more complex challenge. I scrutinized each package, comparing the thickness of the slices, the marbling of the fat, even the subtle variations in color. Viktor, ever the pragmatist, pointed to a package of thick-cut bacon with a flourish. "This one looks good," he declared, his tone brimming with unwarranted confidence. I conceded; his choice was acceptable, though I would have preferred a slightly leaner cut.
