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or in which the weasley family is uncontestedly the greatest family around
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APPROXIMATELY EIGHTEEN hours later, Ramona Pham starred curiously at the clock above her fireplace; 1:02. When Fred had written in the letter that they would be there around 12:00, she hadn't expected them to be right on time, but still it was unlike the twins to be dramatically late.
Ramona sat on a uncomfortable couch in the living room, presently, with her feet atop her trunk, which was notably jam packed already. As promised her mum had left that morning for a potions conference in Surrey— and Presley had gone into town to meet Gracie for lunch, leaving Ramona blessedly alone in the house. Except, that was, for her cat Folie— but even she lay curled in a ball sleeping atop her carrier. It was too quiet. Ramona found herself yearning for the disorder and comfort of the Burrow. She so hoped the twins would arrive soon to whisk her away.
CRACK!
Bless them, Ramona thought, jumping from her seat to greet the twins as they appeared in the fireplace in a rush of green and black. She had only closed her eyes for a moment when she opened them to find herself in the bone-crushing arms of George Weasley.
"I missed you Pham, mostly your chocolate chip cookies, but you as well." George said dubiously, only lightening his hold when Ramona wheezed a little. Laughing, he pushed her away to an arms length, his hands on her shoulders, and eyebrows raised. "I think she shrunk a little, eh Freddie?" The second twin appeared nearly by magic from behind his brother. He grinned as he moved to grab Ramona's trunk.
"Definitely."
"Oh sod off, not my fault you two are giants!" She flicked George's forehead and the boy fell back dramatically. She watched, amused, as George jumped onto the couch closest to him, bringing his arms up like Frankenstein's monster, and dropping his voice a few octaves to exclaim . .
