Harry Potter Imagines and Preferences

They're a Malfoy!*Fred Weasley

"They're a Malfoy!" Mrs Weasley hissed. Fred excused himself and his mother and went to the kitchen.

I stood awkwardly in the Weasleys livingroom. It was cluttered, messy, disorganised, and homey? Strange. I'll have to ask Fred about that.

The couch was occupied by Ginny, Ron, and Harry. Percy sat perched on an armchair while George lounged on the other. All but George looked at me sceptically. George looked bored out his skull.

I'm a Malfoy. That's why. I knew they did too. That didn't make me a criminal. Maybe my family but not me. Or Draco. I know he's a twat but still.

"You just gonna stand?" George drawled. He sat up slightly and patted the armrest of his chair.

Putting barely any weight on it, I sat on the armrests edge. "How's your summer been so far?" George asked, clearly not caring a cricket could be heard.

I cleared my throat "Fine. Mother organized a couple dinners but not much as really happened."

"Sounds dreadfully boring." I nodded, looking at my hands folded in my lap. I tried not to be so 'prim and proper' but I had to at home. I normally relaxed at Hogwarts but having been home a week I've fallen back into habits.

Fred squabbling with his mother could vaguely be heard through the wall. Thank Merlin Mr Weasley wasn't home. I double checked his schedule. He really would object to my presence. Stupid father. I thought.

"So what year you in?" I almost jumped when Ginny spoke. She seemed nice enough and a laugh from what the twins tell me. But I can't help but notice how all the Weasley's drawl their words and speak in slang. It's nice. It's different.

"Fourth. A year below Fred and George."

She nodded "We just call them the twins." I nodded. I didn't like doing that. They were two people, not one. They have enough of a complex as it is. At least she's playing nice. "You like Quidditch?"

Ron elbowed her. "What was that for?!" She whispers shouted. I knew what it was for.

Luckily, I think, Fred and Mrs Weasley emerged from the kitchen, both looking frustrated. Fred's lip twitched up a bit when he says me. I quickly stood from the armchair, silently begging for an out.

"Cmon (Y/N), let's go play Quidditch." My eyebrow twitched up. Quidditch? "Remember our bet? I'm gonna beat you anyway."

I caught on "You wish, Fredrick." He hated me calling him that. He scowled slightly at my smirk. I could vaguely see the disapproval on Mrs Weasley's face.

"I'll be referee. Make sure you ain't trying to kill each other." George chimed in.

All three of us made our escape. As we walked to what I assumed was the broom shed, the twins flanking me on either side, Fred sighed, "Sorry 'bout mum. She's just protective is all."

"I get it," I shrug "Father would have a fit if he found out."

"A true Romeo and Juliet." George joked.

I sighed "I just wish our fathers would stop being so petty. Then maybe when owls constantly arrive for me I wouldn't have to say I made a new friend."

"Let's look on the bright side," Fred flung his arm over my shoulder "We have now. And all the school year. Let's make the most of it."

I didn't feel comfortable taking his sibling's broom so I borrowed Fred's who borrowed George's. However, I guess George felt left out so he grabbed a broom and joined us.

Playing Quidditch with three teams was the weirdest thing I've done. Except date a Weasley. I couldn't help but laugh at our poor attempts.

We ended up playing piggy in the middle on brooms and trying to do tricks.