This illustration is December’s Owl Post postcard! December is all about spending time with loved ones, which is why I wanted to illustrate this family scene✨ It’s warm, full and cosy; exactly how I imagine Christmas at the Burrow would feel.
There is no specific place in time in the books for this scene, I just wanted to create this loving scene🧡🥰 They’re happy and together and we deserve that!
As always, you can join the Owl Post Club on my Patreon (link here) and receive this postcard this month! 💌🦉
Shipping is international and included 🌎
Wizarding World Illustrations
I look forward to posting these soon! I've ordered them already, but the holidays come with many extra printing jobs for my usual printer, so I'm crossing my fingers that these will arrive on time this month!
If you're looking for something else fun for the holidays, maybe take a look at my Christmas Cards!
I have two wonderfully festive sets available on my website:
Requested: No, but feel free to send in some requests:)
Summary: Y/n sneaks out of the dorm to enjoy an early morning outside. Of course, she ends up running into a certain Weasley.
Warnings: None I’d say, just pure fluff
A/n: I just really like writing for George at the moment:)
PLEASE DON’T COPY OR STEAL MY WORK. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED;)
Airy rays of sunlight shone through the dorm windows and made their way through the half-open curtains of your bed, grazing your eyelids, waking you up. You stretched before looking at your alarm. It was only 6:46 AM, yet you weren't tired at all. Normally you hated getting up early, especially on Sundays like this one where you could sleep in, but there was something about this morning that made you all energized. Maybe because you were so close to the summer holiday, you could practically taste it, or maybe because today was just one of those early mornings where everything is calm, waiting for the day to begin.
You tiptoed from your bed to the window, careful not to wake up your roommates, the floor cold on your bare feet. Outside, the sun was almost up, and you swore you could see the fresh dew on the grass of the courtyard, all the way down to the Great Lake. It looked like a light blanket of glimmer, untouched and ethereal, somehow. Opening the window slowly, the fresh air hit you and you felt as if it was pulling you outside. You simply had to take a walk, to be the first one outside, to enjoy the bliss of something that seemed so incredibly rare these days, with your exams and everything weighing you down, stealing your every free minute. You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes for a moment, while stepping back and closing the window, before heading down to the Gryffindor common room, wearing nothing but your night gown and a pair of slippers.
As soon as you'd reached the bottom of the staircase, you were greeted by a groggy, hoarse, voice that you recognised almost immediately. "Morning, Y/n", the ginger haired twin was sitting in what you knew to be his favourite armchair in all of Hogwarts. He was leaning against one armrest, his long legs slung over the other one, wearing his pyjamas that consisted of a pair of long gingham pants and his Weasley jumper that his mum had knitted him. "Hey, George." You greeted back, eyeing the big yellow G on his chest, jealous that you'd probably never get a Weasley jumper of your own. In you opinion, they were the best most cosy jumpers in the world, though George always complained about how scratchy it was. "I assume you couldn't sleep either?" He asked, running a tired hand through his tousled hair. You simply shook your head as a reply. "I was about to sneak outside actually; the weather just looks too inviting. D'you want to join me?" You asked, already making your way towards the portrait. Instead of replying, George got up from the armchair and followed you out, closing the portrait behind the two of you.
Neither one of you spoke a word while walking. Partially because you didn't want to wake up the portraits, partially because neither one of you had anything to say. It wasn't until you were outside that you dared look up at his face. You could see his breaths as tiny clouds, and you could see the tiredness slowly leaving his brown eyes. You hadn't been alone with him for a long time. Not since you decided to distance yourself from him, anyways. You'd liked him for a long time and seeing him every day didn't exactly help. You'd hung out with him enough with all your friends to notice the way he looked at Angelina, to notice the way he was so easy-going around her, to notice the way he was so silent around you. It hurt too much, so much that you felt it was affecting your friendship. You somehow couldn't talk to him about anything deep, like you used to when you were younger and stayed up till midnight in the Burrow. So, you'd decided to distance yourself, hoping to somehow calm your feelings for him, hoping to get things back to normal. Though there was something about this morning that made you not care. You simply wanted to see him as your friend, George, this morning, nothing else. He was just George. And you could talk to George just like you talked to everybody else.
"We could go down to the old tree by the lake, if you want to." You suggested, sending him a content smile. You liked to think of the tree as an old friend of yours. Always there at the shore, never changing. It was there when you first introduced yourself to George and his brother Fred, it was there when you decided to step back from George, it had been there every moment between, and it was there now. "Sure." George simply replied, walking a bit faster now, aiming for the Great Lake. It was silent again, and you could hear every step you took in the grass, your slippers and legs getting wet from the dew. You felt as if you were supposed to say something, as if you were supposed to be interesting, but you didn't know what or how. Luckily, George said something for you. "I feel like we never speak anymore..." You sighed. That wasn't exactly what you'd hoped he'd say. You didn't know whether to be relieved though, as you hoped George hadn't noticed your fallout, but it was still nice that he had. Somehow it was a reassurance that you were important to him, it didn't matter whether it was as a friend or more. "I know..." You let out, keeping your gaze focused on the tree in the distance, getting closer and closer.
"I just-" He continued once you'd both sat down by the tree. "I'm just afraid that I've done anything to upset you, that's all." He looked down, toying with the hem of his pants. "No!" You exclaimed in a loud whisper, almost placing a hand on his shoulder. "You could never upset me, George." At that, the Weasley turned to look at you, his eyes seeking reassurance. "I've- I've just been very occupied with the OWLs... I'm sorry..." You lied, but it was better than telling him the truth. "It's fine, you don't have to apologise. I've just missed you." He shrugged, carefully leaning his head on your shoulder. You froze for a minute, as if a delicate bird had just landed on you, afraid that even breathing would make it fly away. Silence filled the air again, but this time it was more calm, less busy. You stared at the lake, the small waves reflecting the orangey light of the sky, making it look like a phoenix's nest. Golden and fiery.
"This is nice." George let out in a sigh, cuddling even closer to you. "I promise I'll try to make more time for you." You spoke solemnly, as if vowing to never distance yourself from him again. What had you been thinking? Whether he liked Angelina or not, he was your friend. You could never do without him. "Remember when Fred accidentally burnt my cards for Exploding Snap, and I ran down here?" George simply began, not replying to your promise. "You were sitting right where we are now, your nose stuck in a book." You let out a small laugh at the memory. George had been so mad at Fred, he simply refused to speak to him. "Remember how I wouldn't talk to Fred? And how you had to get him and help us make up?" "Yeah, I remember." You smiled, it seemed so long ago. Had it been in your third or fourth year?
"That was when I started liking you." George confessed, but he spoke so calmly and with no emotions that you were sure you'd misheard. "What, you didn't like me before? I thought we'd been friends since our first year?" You joked nervously, making George lift his head from your shoulder to look you in the eyes. "Of course, we were. I meant that that was when I started to like like you." Hearing the confirmation of your suspicions made electricity and excitement surge through your body. You didn't quite know how to respond to that, except to ask one question: "When did you stop liking me?"
Silence, then a long sigh. “I suppose I never did…” He looked down, as if he couldn’t believe he’d just told you that, yet you couldn’t help but smile. Laugh, even. “What- what’s so funny?” He asked, visibly nervous but still smiling as if your laughter was contagious. “I really don’t know,” you started, taking a deep breath to stop laughing. “I guess it’s just because I’ve liked you for the longest time, and I was convinced you liked Angelina, but here you are, telling me you like me!” You spoke loudly, excitedly. “I guess I’m laughing because I don’t quite believe it?” George let out a breath he’d been holding, now laughing as well. “Angelina? How could you ever think that?” He looked you into the eyes again, content etched across his features. “You were just so silent with me compared to her, but I guess it makes sense.” A flicker of bravery in your mind made you reach out and lay your hand on top of his, which you instantly regretted. “Godric, forgive me for being shy around the girl I like.” He joked, and just as you were about to move your hand away from his, he intertwined your fingers with his, making you feel how warm his hands were. It was a nice sort of warm. It wasn’t clammy or uncomfortable in any way, just warm. Just like the warmth of your duvet on frosty winter mornings that always made you want to stay in bed, or as warm as sitting in front of a fireplace enjoying a cup of hot chocolate. “Besides,” George continued. “I wouldn’t dare like the same girl as Fred. He’d kill me.” You smiled, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach only getting reinforced by the news that Fred liked Angelina. They’d be a cute couple.
Laughter, then silence. It had been a good decision to take a walk. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were. George liked you. Another smile crept onto your face as you cuddled against George, the nervousness from before gone. “I love how cosy your jumper is.” You announced, leaning even closer to him, if possible. “Yeah?” George put his hands around you in a hug. “I’m sure that if I ask my mum, she’ll make you one.” “Really?”
“On one condition, you’d have to be my girlfriend first.”
The first time Harry travelled for work, Draco missed him dreadfully.
He searched out his husband’s Weasley jumper and pulled it over his head. It was a scruffy worn thing, more hole than wool, but was infused with his beloved’s familiar scent and magic.
I need a fic where Violet decides one Christmas to make Weasley style jumpers for her kids, their spouses, and her grandkids. They would just use each other and their kids to try to spell out as many bad words as they could get it into the family Christmas pictures. Let’s be real 😂
