so glock did this picture, and lise perverted it for her own ends. weasleys! new years!

 

"But--"

Fred was currently occupied in putting a stupid looking paper crown on George's head. "NO."

"It wouldn't hurt," and George brushed at the purple thing, irritated. "Stop that." He looked at Ginny, who was beaming happily, and raised an eyebrow. "You're going to protect her, now? who are you, percy?"

Fred huffed. "Fine."

Ginny held her glass out.

~

"Where on earth--"

George put a finger up to Ron's lips, smushing his mouth. Ron made a cross face, but shut up. George poured him a delicate glass of bubbling pink liquid, that changed color gently as Ron swirled it.

"This looks like watered down grape juice," Ron said, but quietly, because George was peering out their bedroom door, waiting for Fred and Ginny to come back. "Very watered down."

George mumbled, "then taste it," head still stuck round the doorframe. "it's better than juice."

"oh," Ron said, licking his lips. "Yes, I s'pose."

~

"But!" and Ginny spun round, to face Fred in her nightie. "I'm not seven, for pete's sake."

Fred pulled her into his lap. "You're just a little thing," he said, and laughed when she wriggled away. "Just don't tell mum."

Ginny looked offended. "I wouldn't!" she said. Ron and George were trying to build a tower out of little corks. They had a fair pile of them from the little bottles Fred and George had been creatively mixing all night. "Just let me stay up with you, oh, please!"

Ron said, exaggerated, "shhhh!!" and then knocked the tower of bottle caps over. "Oh, blast."

George looked at Fred over Ginny's head, rolling his eyes.

~

"So why do Muggles do this, again?" Ron asked. He was laying on George's bed, head hanging down the side. His cheeks were very pink. "Stay up and throw streamers, I mean."

"It's not just Muggles," Ginny corrected him absently. "They just have all this paper confetti."

"Then why do we have paper confetti again?" Ron said, but neither of the twins answered. They were both sprawled on the other bed, not paying attention.

~

George opened his eyes with difficulty, glancing at his watch. There was fizzy beer spilled all down his front, and the prats had let him all but pass out in his jeans. Fred had changed into his pajama pants, and George had the matching top on, but still, jeans.

"Oh, drat," he exclaimed softly. "It's past midnight." He shuffled his knee around a little, and Ron stirred, moaning softly. George patted Ron's head.

Fred beamed. "You passed out right there! crown and all!" George eyed the empty bottle he was holding, sniffed it, then dropped it on the bedcovers, ignored. Fred slumped over onto George's side like a dead weight. "mmmm," he said.

"Not now," George mumbled, "the kids are here."

"mmmm," Fred said again. "Happy new year."