the badger and the lion.

The Unbelievable Physics of Portkeys

"Lovies, it's time to get up."

Not again. You already had an early start yesterday morning, and now it was happening again. You opened your eyes, but it was still dark in the room.

"What time is it?" Ginny asked groggily.

"Five-thirty," Hermione said back, already on her feet. She opened the blinds, and you and Ginny groaned at the sunlight streaming in. "Come on, it's not that bad."

You all got ready quietly, too tired to start talking. You were still full from dinner last night, but the delightful smells from downstairs made your stomach rumble. Hermione left to see if the boys were downstairs, but from the sound of her stomping back upstairs to the upper levels, they definitely were not.

You dressed warm to account for the chill in the room, and headed downstairs. Mrs. Weasley was making eggs and bacon, and you offered to cook the sausages and tomatoes while she was concentrating on not burning the toast. Hermione and Ginny set the table and helped you divide the food between the plates. Everyone then appeared downstairs, most likely entranced by the smell of cooking. They all looked rather muggle-like, as did you, to conceal their magical identities. A warm body then enveloped you from behind as you flipped the last sausage in the pan.

"Good morning," Fred whispered in your ear. "It smells great."

"Good morning to you, too."

The plates filled up one by one, and you all sat around the table. Bill and Charlie sat across from you, and they flicked their wands at the empty jugs in the middle of the table, filling them up with orange juice. Ron, Fred and George were eating like they were in competition with each other, taking one bite after another while their mouths were still full. Mr. Weasley had to tell them to slow down, but even he was eating a bit too quick, probably stressed that we would be late to get to our destination. Percy came downstairs later, complaining to his father that he might miss out of substantial time to get his report on the inconsistent thickness of cauldron bottoms done. Mr. Weasley assured him it'd be okay, but Percy still seemed peeved, and the group started mocking him relentlessly.

"Alright kids, we need to be at the door ready to go in twenty minutes," Mr. Weasley said, placing his cutlery in the middle of his plate.

With a swish of her wand, Mrs. Weasley cleared the table once everyone was finished. You had already packed your bag last night under Hermione's recommendation, which left you a little bit of time left to relax.

You lie down on the end of your bed in the now empty room, as Hermione and Ginny had gone outside to watch Crookshanks and Beetle pounce around together in the garden under the morning sun. A sudden knock at the door startled you.

Fred smiled as he leaned against the doorframe. He entered, and let out an exhale as he flopped down next to you.

"Are you all ready to go?" he asked. You nodded, yawning. "You better not be doing that later tonight."

"But, what if the game goes for five days, like the last world cup?" you asked him, giggling.

"That's no excuse. No yawning on my watch," he tapped your nose playfully. "And no sleeping, either."

"For 120 hours?" you scoffed. "I'd die."

"And no dying, either," he stated. You rolled your eyes.

"So demanding," you joked.

You couldn't help but smile when you looked at Fred like this – just you two, alone, laughing, like it was just you left in the universe and nothing else mattered. A sparkle would always linger in his eyes, which made you want to stay like this forever, or just a few more minutes. And something told you that he felt the same.