Mistletoes and Mishaps | W.T
summary: After successfully convincing you, you finally agreed to take your boyfriends Fred and George Weasley for a little tour around your Muggle hometown. But with Christmas nearing and two undeniably curious men at your hands, it's the perfect recipe for chaos.
c/w: throuple, characters are aged up above twenty, muggle-born reader, chaotic, sex jokes, sex toys, fluff, suggestive ending, me trying to write something funny. yes, that's a warning.
a/n: my advanced christmas present for all of you 🫶🏻
Christmas break. The long-awaited holiday every student at Hogwarts waited for with baited breath.
It’s the time to finally be able to breathe, unwind, hang out with friends, reunite with family, or…
Take your boyfriends with you to the Muggle world.
Yeah — if they weren’t Fred and George Weasley, maybe.
They’d been pestering you about it ever since you brought up visiting your folks back at your hometown for the holidays.
You lived in the countryside, so the closest thing to a shopping district would be at least a 20-minute drive, and with Christmas rolling around the corner, it’s bound to take longer and be a jam-packed mess.
Fred and George had visited the Muggle world before, but the longest they'd spent there was when they had to escort Harry safely from the Dursleys’ home to The Burrow. It was a short-lived experience. They never got to explore, and it was years ago. It was also where George became “holey,” as Fred described it.
So that trip didn’t count.
They insisted on a redo, but without anything out to kill them or… decapitate another one’s ear.
You had picked a rather odd day to set off. A random Wednesday, not too early in the morning, but not too dark to call it nighttime, either. Travelling with Floo Powder was never exactly a discreet kind of modus operandi.
Leaving in the morning meant risking potential witnesses to your magical entrance, and the nighttime meant an increase in the chances of misplacement.
And Merlin knows how well-acquainted you and those dodgy alleyways had become after many unsuccessful attempts when you first started travelling by Floo Powder back in your younger years at Hogwarts.
Your house didn't have a proper fireplace — or any place, really, to make an appropriate arrival spot for you, so the nearby interior shops' fireplace, barely big enough to squeeze you in, had to suffice. It worked all these years up until now, and not one squabble from any of the customers or the boss. Not that they had any people visiting nowadays anyway. Too overpriced.
And what's more convenient is that the shop was already in the midst of town. The shopping district. So you didn't have to worry about lugging your two mischievous hearts all the way there after arriving. Not that you minded the banter during your other previous travels.
"Alright, you both set?" You asked, zipping up your bag you had just finished finalizing before swinging it over your shoulder. "Hope you both don't forget anything like last time."
"Hey," said Fred, shoving something into his own rucksack. "As small as it was, my trusty beaded bag carried all my little tricks. Admit it, you would've died from boredom if I hadn't brought it with me."
"That's what you said the last time we went to visit Charlie in Romania, you slimy lump," George cut in, tying a firm knot into his bag. "Pulled us back an hour and a half, you did."
Fred, whose eyes and attention were still on his luggage, quickly retaliated by mindlessly hurling whatever object that was already in his hand square at George, causing it to hit his thigh with a small thud before tumbling onto the wooden floor.
The younger twin’s eyes followed the item of assault as it rolled away from him before quickly shooting his older brother a look. A look in which Fred simply replied with:
"That was meant for the wall behind you."
A small chuckle stifled from your mouth at their exchange, never finding it tiresome. Even if they'd be at each other's arses with the same antics every day, it never failed to make you nearly double over laughing.
"You really didn't have to bring it with you, though, Fred." You flicked your hair away from your face, leaning your weight on one leg as you clutched onto the strap of your bag.
"Merlin forbid a bloke want to keep his woman entertained!" He cried, swinging his rucksack over his shoulder as well.
You held up your hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, my boyfriend is ever so considerate." And with a playful pout, you clasped your hands over your chest. "And I love him so."
"Course you do. Hard not to, really." He grinned, puffing out his chest in pride, and sauntered over beside you in front of his family's fireplace in the living room.
Molly had been ever so generous to allow you to use it to go back home, but not after she nagged your poor lovers' ears to death about not causing mass destruction in your home place.
You laughed. "Oh, is that so?"
"Absolutely. I'm a delight, and you know it." Fred then tucked a stray strand behind your ear. “I know you are."
Soon after, George occupied the other empty spot beside you, looking very rustic with his hair slightly messy from the rush of preparing for travel — but this time, to a place familiar yet still so utterly foreign.
"Ready," said George, flashing you a cheeky smile. You felt your cheeks grow warm at the sight of it, so you returned one back. And boy, how that fired him up.
Your shoulders bounded up and down one time as you drew in a breath and exhaled, adjusting the strap of your shoulder bag as your eyes stared at the dark, dusty, and gaping space before you. In just a few seconds, you'd be home again. But what's more now is that you have the two people you loved most to make new memories with.
"Okay, so—" before you could squeeze another word in, George abruptly flinched as if something suddenly came to mind. His hands pat at the pockets of his trousers to find whatever it was he was looking for, not there.
"Oops, forgot something. It's your lucky day, Freddo. Looks like I'm the one taking the piss today," joked George before turning around to retrieve his nearly forgotten item, his shoulder lightly brushing against yours as he did so.
"Finally broke my forgetfulness streak!" the older twin cheered loudly, bumping shoulders with you to 'celebrate‘. “And all of you insisted I was irresponsible. You can tell that to Mum!" His hooting and hollering for such a small feat caused you to let out a laugh, swinging your hips to tap his own once in return for the little shoulder bump he did earlier.
He took note of your little gesture and took advantage of George's absence by quickly wrapping an arm around your waist, hauling you close enough to plant a firm kiss on your lips.
You squeaked in surprise, swiftly hitting him gently in the chest after he plops you back beside him like nothing had happened.
"Cheeky bastard," you said, your smile betraying the bite you tried to spit in your tone.
"Sorry, lovey. Couldn't help myself."
You scoffed. “Yes, you can."
And the moment those words slipped past your lips, the look on Fred's eyes shifted to something painfully familiar. One where he knew he was being challenged, and he was never one to back down from a chance to prove something or himself.
"Yeah? Wanna test that claim of yours, then?"
But before he could lunge at you with all the speed of a Firebolt on two legs, George swiftly cut in with a clear of his throat — undertones of jealousy clearly evident.
“Alright, that's enough from you two," said George, squeezing in beside you like before. "And don’t even start with that, Freddie. Last time you ‘tested a claim,’ we ended up banned from the broom shed. I swear, if I have to go and face Filch one more time to ask for an entry pass, I'm gonna lose it."
Fred grinned, eyes glinting. "Worth it."
"He practically lives behind my eyelids now!" George cried.
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide your laugh — and George pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head like he was staking silent claim.
"Or... or, you're just a little green in the face there, Georgie?" Teased Fred. "Envy doesn't quite suit you."
"Fat chance," George replied quickly, crossing his arms as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before glancing at you. "... Maybe a little."
Fred snorted. "Brilliant — so all it takes is dangling our girlfriend in front of you to get you to loosen up, eh?"
"Used by my own boyfriend." You feigned hurt, pressing a hand to your chest.
"Merlin, never!" Fred cried out dramatically, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close — planting a kiss on your temple with an exaggerated "mwah!"
A fleeting laugh escaped your lips before the realization that you didn't have much time before it would be too risky to travel.
"Right," you cut in, your voice now slightly serious as you stepped in front of them both. After wrestling Fred's arms off of you, that is.
"I think you're both well aware that we aren't here to escort Harry or partake in anything that involves life or death anymore." Your eyes flickered from Fred to George, whose eyes were just as admiring as the lopsided grins they had on their faces. "So that, by any circumstances, means no magic, no Skiving Snackboxes, and no Weasleys' Wheezes products."
Your hand went up to grip the strap of your bag. "Got it?"
“Now, where's the fun in that—"
"Fred," you warned firmly, shooting your eyebrows up at him.
“Yes, miss!" They eventually replied in unison, saluting to you in their own unique ways.
Pleased, you nodded once before taking a small step back between them.
"All set?" You asked for the final time, glancing at Fred and George.
"Yes, Mum," replied George with a teasing grin. You quickly snapped your head over to look at him, giving him a small glare.
He snorted before reaching out to fix your scarf. "Just messing with you, clever girl. We're ready."
So after all the bickering, forgotten items, and countless questions asking if any and all were finally ready to go, the three of you set off — stepping inside the fireplace with handfuls of Floo Powder, eager to take on this new adventure.
Shortly after arriving in the quaint interior shops' fireplace, it wasn't without incident. When was it ever without when you had Fred and George as partners?
Because what you'd forgotten, was to remind them of how small and lower the fireplace was compared to the one they had back at The Burrow. With their towering heights, the first thing you heard rather than the faint jingle of Christmas music playing from the speakers outside was the sound of two loud thuds followed by a chorus of groans and pained cursing.
Hit their heads harder than the Bludgers Slytherins' players caught with their faces.
"Christ," Fred hissed, clutching his head, being the last to walk — or stumble rather — from the fireplace. "Damn thing should be lucky I'm not allowed to use magic. Would've turned it back into what it used to be. A pile of bloody bricks."
George snorted, brushing soot from his jumper as he leaned casually against the display table behind him.
"Come off it, Fred. You know you love the dramatic entrance. Besides, the fireplace looks better than you do right now. Bricks or not, at least it’s holding together."
He smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. "If Mum sees you staggering about like that, she’ll think you’ve been sampling our latest product. And honestly, I might not even correct her."
"Fancy you saying that when you're barely keeping the tears from slipping out of your eyes. I know you hit your head harder than mine," Fred shot back, pointing a trembling finger at George, who was indeed attempting to ignore the throbbing pain on top of his ginger head.
But you? You were simply stood aside, biting back your laughter as you watched their bickering go down.
Fred's eyes then shifted towards your frame that trembled with suppressed laughter, his demeanor immediately changing.
"Oh!" He exclaimed, dragging himself over to you. "Hold me, dearest heart, for I've been harassed by that beastly thing," he said before putting on the ruse of a damsel feeling faint, gently taking your arms and wrapping them around him.
George shakes his head, walking over to the both of you before pulling Fred away by the hood of his coat. “Easy there, Casanova. Save some of her for me too. She's our girlfriend, not your personal life-raft."
Fred laughs, running a hand through his hair as George saunters towards you, plopping an arm around your shoulders. “From now on, hugs are on a strict schedule: you get Monday, Wednesday, and every other Friday, and I get the rest, including public holidays.”
Fred snorted, flicking George’s arm off your shoulders with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Oi, you can’t just claim public holidays! Those are clearly premium hugging days. I demand a trial.”
You laughed, shaking your head as you looped your arm through Fred’s. “Boys, I don’t think I can keep track of your ridiculous schedule. Maybe I need a hug calendar.”
“Or a referee,” you teased with a grin. “I volunteer as tribute.”
Fred grinned wolfishly at you. “Excellent! As long as you're biased in my favour.”
George gave an exaggerated sigh, hands on his hips. “Unbelievable. Betrayed in my own family.”
With a playful shove to each other’s shoulders, the twins and you finally pushed open the door of the cosy interior shop. A wave of cold air and the faint scent of roasted chestnuts greeted you as you stepped onto the slightly bustling street. Fairy lights twinkled from lampposts, garlands wrapped every awning, and a giant Christmas tree shimmered in the middle of the little plaza.
Fred stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. “Blimey… look at this! It’s like Diagon Alley got itself all dolled up for a snowball fight.”
George’s grin stretched ear to ear as he nudged his twin. “Muggles really know how to go all out. Fred, we need to nick some ideas for the shop windows next year.”
"Can't say no to that," Fred laughs before bumping his hips with yours. "You lot really do know how to pretty up your streets for Crimbo. Makes for good inspiration!"
You grin and bump him back. “Oh, so now you’re impressed by Muggle streets?”
Fred smirks. “I didn’t say impressed. Just… mildly inspired.”
“Mildly inspired?” You raise an eyebrow. “You’re practically gawking at the fairy lights like a kid in a sweet shop.”
“Am not!” he protests, though he’s clearly mesmerised by the twinkling garlands.
“Face it, Weasley,” you tease, “Muggles are winning at Christmas.”
Fred bursts out laughing. “Alright, alright — I'll admit defeat this one time.”
Your eyes then found themselves on George, whose gaze had wandered toward the mouth of a narrow alleyway, his expression as serious as if he’d just spotted a dragon.
"George! You alright, love?!" You called, half-expecting him to chase after some mysterious object.
He turns back to look at you, eyes gleaming with newfound curiosity.
"Nothing! Just — admiring!" He said, jogging back to where you and Fred stood. He leaned closer, lowering his voice with dramatic flair. “Your town’s got a real knack for pretty sights.” His eyes lingered on you just long enough to earn a proud nod from Fred.
When you realized, a wave of heat surged up your cheeks, just as quickly as the twins being sent to detention on a normal Thursday.
Fred smirked from beside you, feeling proud of their Weasley charm.
Fred elbowed George. “Smooth. Very subtle. I’m sure the lamppost over there is flattered.”
You cleared your throat. "W—well, since we're already in town, we might as well do a bit of exploring before visiting my parents' place. My, erm... home."
“Exploring?” George clapped his hands together. “Excellent. We’re highly trained professionals in that field.”
The three of you strutted through the festive streets, dodging shoppers and the twins pausing to make terrible puns about every sign you passed. Fred dramatically bowed to a friendly dog, and George tried on an oversized Father Christmas hat in a window reflection, insisting he looked “distinguished.”
You soon reached a charming little shop, twinkling lights and pine-scented candles beckoning from the windows. “I want to get my parents a Christmas homecoming gift,” you said brightly, pulling the twins inside.
Fred sniffed the air. “Hm. Smells like pine, pastries, and… capitalism.”
George picked up a snow globe and shook it violently. “Look, Fred, blizzard warning. Take cover!”
As you browsed, you finally found a pair of hand-painted mugs. Perfect. You reached into your pocket — and froze. “Crap, my wallet's gone! I must've dropped it back at the interior shop!"
Fred gasped theatrically. “Tragedy strikes our hero! Will she ever reclaim her lost treasure?”
“I’ll be quick!” You said, already halfway to the door. “You two, stay here!”
George saluted with exaggerated flair. “We solemnly swear to guard these mugs with our lives.”
“Really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Absolutely,” George said. “Unless someone scary shows up— then we heroically run.”
“And leave the mugs?” You teased.
“Of course not,” George replied. “We’ll throw the mugs at them on the way out. Very heroic.”
Fred cupped his hands around his mouth as you finally dashed into the street. “Run like the wind! May the festive spirit protect you, my love!”
The twins watched your boots clatter over the cobblestones until you disappeared into the holiday bustle. George leaned against the shelves with a grin. “Think she’ll make it back before we eat all the free samples?”
Fred smirked. “Doubtful. But if she doesn’t, dibs on the snowman cookies.”
Ten minutes, twenty sneakily nipped sample cookies, and two pairs of eager, jittery legs later, George, whose face was littered with the crumbs of the cookies he devoured, approached Fred silently.
"Oi," he whispered, leaning into his brother almost as if to avoid suspicion.
"Bloody hell, George, these cookies are brilliant!" Fred interjected. "Second to Mum’s, of course."
"The little old lady did say they were home-baked — but that's not the point here." George placed a hand on Fred's shoulder and whispered. "I think y/n's been lying to us."
Fred furrowed his brows, turning his body to face his twin in confusion. "What are you on about, 'lying to us'?"
"She said magic didn't entirely exist in the Muggle world now, did she?" asked George.
"Well, I reckon I’ve got just the thing to prove her spectacularly wrong — courtesy of our ever-resourceful mate, Lee, of course."
After the twins swiftly left the shop (with barely any dessert samples left), they had been wandering the dodgy alleyway George had spotted earlier on their arrival, on the hunt for a wand shop rumoured by Lee Jordan to be hidden amongst the Muggle storefronts. A flashing neon sign nudged in the very nook of the alley caught their eyes: “Magic Wands – Guaranteed to Please!”
“See?” Fred grinned, nudging George in the ribs. “Told you Muggles were catching on to the wand craze.”
They pushed open the door, a bell jingling merrily. The shop was dimly lit, with shelves lined with… peculiar wands. Some glowed. Some buzzed. One was shaped like a dragon but vibrated in a way that definitely wasn’t for spellcasting.
“Merlin’s beard,” George breathed, picking up a pink, glittering wand. “Why does this one have… three handles?”
“Maybe it’s for advanced charms,” Fred said with a straight face, before pressing a button. The wand buzzed violently in his hand, making him drop it. It skittered across the floor like a rogue pygmy puff.
A Muggle shop attendant hurried over, barely containing a smirk. “First time shopping?”
“Yes! We’re looking for wands,” George said earnestly. “You know, for… magic.”
“Oh… they’re magical all right,” the attendant said, biting back laughter.
Fred had wandered into an aisle labelled ‘Beginner’s Toys’, holding up a pair of enchanted-looking cuffs. “Oi, George! Do you think these are for advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts?”
Before the twins could test their theory, a Muggle couple entered and gave them a look that made their ears turn as red as their hair.
“I think,” George whispered, “we’ve made a bit of a… miscalculation.”
Just then, the door to the shop swung open, bells jingling violently before revealing a heaving and sweaty you. Already red in the face from the panic of the twins possibly getting lost in a world completely unbeknownst to them, and even more so now that you've found them in a shop that was... questionable, to say the least.
Fred and George whipped their heads around to the source of the sound before their eyes landed on you. Wide grins spread across their faces, completely oblivious to the hassle you'd been through looking for them.
"There you are!" Fred exclaimed, walking over to you. George followed suit behind him. "And you said magic didn’t exist in the Muggle world. Look at all the different wands they have!"
"What's wrong?" inquired George, confused by your less-than-pleased expression.
"Ten minutes," you said. "I leave you alone for ten minutes, and of all places, you end up here?!"
Fred blinked at you, then glanced around the shop again, the shelves of… decidedly un-magical and very adult items finally clicking in his mind.
"Ah," he said slowly, his grin faltering for a moment. "Well… in our defence, we were fairly certain these were experimental wands. Very experimental."
George, ever the quicker to recover, stepped forward with his most innocent smile. "Darling, you can’t honestly be upset. We were merely conducting… research!"
You raised an unimpressed brow.
Fred scratched the back of his neck, cheeks pinking. "Alright, alright — we might’ve been a bit curious. Muggle shops are full of surprises! But, uh… we didn’t buy anything! Yet."
George nudged him. "Which, judging by that look, we won’t be doing today. Come on, love, don’t be cross. We’ll stick to the sweet shops next time. Mostly."
George practically tiptoed over to you before wrapping an arm around your waist. You weren't going to lie when you said the feeling didn't make you all giddy inside despite the conundrum they'd caused you. Fred skidded by, planting a quick kiss to your cheek before all three of you fled the shop, bells jingling, leaving behind a trail of giggles from the staff.
Taking them to the local mall was even just as worse. A large building filled with endless shops and little corners with sweets? You were asking for hell. A good hell.
Nearly every second, Fred would stop, taking your hand to pull you somewhere he found fascinating, and George's eyes lit up like a child every time something new would come into view.
"Oh, that's, uhm... a thing used to tell how well done an egg is when you boil it," you explained to George, who had called you over to ask about the ‘strange-looking' contraption.
"Now that's magic, even for Muggles."
You chuckled, linking your arm with his before catching up to Fred, whose back was facing you and stood gazing at something you couldn't quite put your finger on. With his head tilted ever so slightly and eyebrows furrowed as if deciphering whatever it was that caught his attention, you too grew curious.
"What in the bloody hell is that?" Inquired Fred once you and George found your place beside him.
"What's what?" You asked back, then followed Fred's eyes to what was in front of you.
A load of metal stairs carrying mall-goers up and down from floor to floor. An escalator.
"That's an escalator, Fred," you answered, glancing over at him. His expression more confused than impressed, which was surprising. Hell, even George couldn't decide what to think of the man-made machine in front of him. "It's what we use to get from floor to floor without using the stairs."
"An escalator?" George echoed, studying it like some puzzle he was hell-bent on deciphering.
"Mhm." You nodded, a small smirk painting your lips at the amusement from your two endearingly clueless wizard boyfriends.
"A metal staircase contraption..." trailed George again.
"Honestly," Fred said, leaning his body a bit closer to you and enough for his brother to hear. "I'd prefer the Moving Staircase over that metal execution device. Muggles really are something!"
"Hear, hear!" hollered George, raising up a pretend chalice.
You pinched the bridge of your nose, stifling a laugh as the twins regarded the escalator like it was a cursed artifact straight out of Borgin and Burkes.
“Metal execution device?” you repeated, your voice wobbling with amusement. “It’s literally just a moving staircase. Nobody’s dying on it, Freddie.”
George leaned closer to squint at the steps. “You say that now, but I can hear it plotting. Listen to that ominous hum.”
You raised a brow. “That’s just the motor. People ride these every day without being swallowed into the void, you know. Well, save for a few times somewhere in the world — but it rarely happens.”
Fred crossed his arms, unconvinced. “Bet that’s what they said about the Chamber of Secrets.”
You rolled your eyes and grabbed each twin by the wrist. “Alright, you two. Time for a crash course in Muggle technology. Feet on the step, hold the rail, and for Merlin’s sake, don’t scream.”
Fred hesitated, peering at the escalator like it might snap at him. “What if it eats my shoes?”
“Then we buy you new shoes,” you said dryly. “Now get on.”
George went first, wobbling dramatically as the step carried him upward. “Blimey! It is moving! Look at me, love! I’m flying without a broom!”
Fred followed, muttering under his breath, until he realized he was moving, too. He immediately threw his arms out like he was on a ride at the fair. “I take it back. This is brilliant! Muggles are mental, but brilliant!”
You just shook your head, stepping onto the escalator behind them. “I swear, if you two start racing up the down escalator, I’m leaving you here for mall security to deal with.”
George shot you a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “Noted. But if we survive this perilous journey, we deserve a reward. Like more of those snowman cookies.”
Fred nodded enthusiastically. “Agreed. We’ve faced the metal beast and lived to tell the tale. Heroic snacks are in order!”
You couldn’t help it — you laughed, loud and bright, as the three of you ascended together into the next floor of chaos.
The day concluded with the three of you walking back to your home. The muddy, puddle-ridden dirt road lined by cobblestone houses and brick fences was lit by nothing more than a couple of streetlamps that stretched the whole way home.
Tired, spent, with bellies full of decorative snowman cookies from the shop you three had visited before the... adult-rated fiasco, all was well.
"We should visit your place more often, love," George murmured, too tired to even raise his tone of voice. Hands in pockets like it was all casual.
"Can't promise we won't be stumbling into any more questionable shops, though," said Fred, his smile as boyish and as handsome as ever despite being tuckered out.
"We're lucky mall security didn't see us fit enough to chase all the way here," you chuckled. "But I definitely wouldn't mind taking both of you back to see the other seasons. It's quite charming here in the spring."
"Would the cows be happy to see us again, though?" George joked, motioning over to the small herd behind a white fence with his head.
"Not as happy as you make Santy Claus over there," Fred piped in, referring to the very obnoxious Father Christmas decoration that hung by the door on some random house's front porch.
George frowned, nodding his head. "I'll take it."
A small laugh slipped past your lips, burying your hands in the pockets of your coat to keep them warm. Everything was perfect, and everyone was happy. New memories were made, and the holidays were about to be just as special with George and Fred by your side. Let's just hope your house doesn't accidentally burn down overnight from one of their experiments you'd promised them they could test out.
"God, I'm knackered," you sighed, tilting your head up as your breath visualized in front of you in the form of ethereal smoke.
"I can imagine." George grinned, planting his warm palm over your head and ruffling your hair endearingly. "Our beloved tour guide girlfriend worked so hard today, showing her two daft guests around."
"Hey!" You protested, swatting his hand away and fixing your hair.
"Fancy doing a bit of Muggle magic with us tonight?" Fred walked up from behind you, warm breath tickling the shell of your ear.
Your eyebrows furrowed, tilting your head sideways to meet his gaze. "Muggle magic?"
Before you could fully understand what he meant, seeing as there was no real wizardry in your world, Fred pressed something against your back — and it began to vibrate violently.
You yelped and spun around, nearly smacking into his chest. “Fred! What in Merlin’s—?!”
George blinked, eyes widening. “Blimey, Freddie… is that—?”
Fred grinned, holding up the small, sleek object with a triumphant flourish. It buzzed merrily in his hand. “Muggle magic!” he declared. “Behold — a wand that doesn’t need spells to make you jump!”
You snatched it from his hand, face burning as realization set in. “This is a—”
“—Vibrating wand!” Fred cut in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I might’ve bought it in secret. Thought it would be… educational.”
George doubled over in laughter, clutching his stomach. “Oh, you absolute menace. Mum would hex you if she knew what you were smuggling in your bag!”
Fred only wiggled his brows, clearly proud of himself. “Told you Muggles have magic of their own. No spells, no incantations, just pure, buzzing brilliance.”
You shook your head, half-exasperated and half-laughing, as you tucked the toy back into his bag before anyone else could see. “You’re going to be the death of me, Fred Weasley. Both of you.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Fred and George wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “And yet you love us for it.”
The three of you walked the final stretch home under the twinkle of Christmas lights, your laughter spilling into the quiet night. Whatever the holidays held next, you knew mischief was inevitable — and with Fred’s so-called ‘Muggle magic,’ you weren’t about to forget this one anytime soon.
