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A Weasley Tradition
By GeorgieGryffindor

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Category: Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: Comedy, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 54
Summary: ONESHOT It’s common knowledge that Weasley traditions are of a legendary nature once made, they stick, and stick stronger than Sirius Black’s bikini clad muggle pictures to his bedroom wall at Grimmauld Place. PostDH HG fluff 5 years before Epilogue
Hitcount: Story Total: 11400



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
Just one of the cute little fluffy oneshots that popped into my head after Deathly Hallows. Enjoy!




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It’s common knowledge that Weasley traditions are of a legendary nature; once made, they stick, and stick stronger than Sirius Black’s bikini clad muggle pictures to his bedroom wall at Grimmauld Place. While these Weasley customs are renown for sticking around, sometimes they can fade away or occur less commonly, but that doesn’t stop it being a part of the red-headed folklore. Weasley traditions can be created at any time, by anyone with the last name of Weasley, anyone whoever bore the last name of Weasley, or basically whoever comes up with an idea that the Weasley family generally enjoys.

After the war against Voldemort had ended just over twelve years ago, several new traditions had been made, and several new members had been welcomed in. Some people were adopted in and made to feel like part of the crew, some had been born into the chaotic lifestyle, and the honorary members of Harry and Hermione had become full-blown members by their marriages, eight and five years ago respectively. They had both joined without a fuss, and, according to their new brother-in-laws, they had helped along the Weasley traditions fantastically.

Harry had always been eager for the mid-July Quidditch games in the orchard, the customary Christmas Day snowball fight, and inviting Teddy Lupin into the family had certainly helped the traditions along; as Ron said, the Weasley’s always had had a thing for letting strange orphan boys stay with them. It was, however, Hermione’s effort of getting pregnant and eloping that easily topped Harry’s efforts in the eyes of most Weasleys. It was something that George pointed out almost every time any amount of Weasleys were in the same room together. He did this mainly to irritate his mother, as she could merely purse her lips and glare at this provocation; she had done the same as her youngest daughter-in-law all those years before.

Along with their Weasley spouses, both Harry and Hermione had also taken to what Percy (in a surprisingly joking way) referred to as ‘The Theory of Mass Weasley Reproduction’. It had many clauses and rules, but overall merely stated that there were to be at least twice the amount of Weasley children produced as the generation before had. This tally was currently sitting at around twelve, but as Molly constantly reminded her blushing children, there was still plenty of time for improvement on this number, still plenty of time to prove the theory correct.

Of all the traditions that had been made in the past twelve years, there was one clear favourite, the one being continued this day at the Burrow. It was enjoyed more than the yearly visit to the Lovegood’s, something which all of the younger kids enjoyed thoroughly, or the tickets to the first Holyhead Harpies game of the season, secured by Ginny’s old Harpies connections.

The grand event that was today was the one day of the year that no Weasley, or anyone with Weasley affiliation for that matter, could miss; it was the only time everyone was obliged to be in the same place at the same time.

It went the same way year after year. On the first Saturday of August, Molly and Arthur Weasley would summon all their children, children-in-law, grandchildren and the rest of the flock. People would start arriving for the lunch feast that Molly prepared hours early, under the pretence of wanting to help out at the Burrow, but really just wanting to get their kids to stop hassling to see their cousins.

The kids would play Quidditch for a couple of hours before eating a long lunch with their parents, then letting their parents sit around lazily for a few hours. From there, everyone dispersed slowly, the exhausted younger kids falling asleep in their parents’ arms around nightfall, being Side-Along apparated home.

It had become a sort of race between the adults as to who got to the Burrow earliest on these days. The winner and their spouse won the coverted bragging rights for the next year. Bill and Fleur generally won this race, while Harry and Ginny often brought up the tail, both James and Albus’ hair askew and half dressed as they fought while flooing, Lily crying into the shoulder of one of her angry parents.

This year, Harry reminded himself with a slight grin, it was going to change. Yawning, with a still groggy and clinging to his side Lily, Harry apparated to just outside the Burrow, where the sun was still peeping up over the horizon. He approached the house, the morning light streaming down on him, dew still on the grass that was rustling in the slight wind, and he pushed open the door to the kitchen, expecting only his mother-in-law to be up, instead finding the kitchen half-full.

“You’re kidding me.”

“Hi Uncle Harry!” yelled little Rose Weasley excitedly, running and hugging her favourite uncle around the leg. She looked at him, auburn hair bushy around her eager face, blue eyes looking up at him expectantly. “Can I play with Lily?”

“She’s still half asleep, Rosie,” her father told her, tugging the back of her shirt to pull her away. Grinning, Ron pulled out a chair for Harry, who sat down, looking around the kitchen irritatedly.

Ron was sitting next to him, Hermione stirring sugar into her coffee on his other side. Mr Weasley, Bill and Fleur also sat at the table, slowly picking their way through breakfast. Mrs Weasley stood at the stove; something that smelled chickenish was already wafting through the air and filling his nostrils. She barely looked up when Harry walked inside.

“Ginny bringing the boys through the floo?” Hermione asked Harry with a smile.

“Yeah, she drew the short straw,” Harry smirked as Mrs Weasley took a moment from her cooking and patted the top of Harry’s head affectionately, tipping half a pig of bacon onto a plate and placing it in front of him, steaming. “Thank you. She’s picking up Teddy on the way.” He saw Fleur and Hermione exchange a fleeting glance at this.

“That’s good,” Hermione said, eyes twinkling.

“So who won?” Harry asked half sourly, referencing the infamous race which had became a tradition in its own right. He picked through the bacon in front of him with one hand, holding Lily on his lap with the other, and offering a bit to his daughter, who took it in her hands and began chewing on it. Bill’s response to his question was cut off by a loud interruption from the fireplace.

“James, you will stop picking on your brother this instant or I swear, I’ll confiscate your broom for the whole day, I mean — you’re kidding me.”

“That’s what I said too,” Harry said, getting up to help his wife tug their bickering sons out of the fireplace with his spare arm, Lily still in tow. “Hey Ted.” Harry ruffled his godson’s hair, which was currently a shocking shade of blue.

“You have really got to be kidding me,” Ginny repeated tiredly, forcing the silently arguing James and Albus into conjured chairs as far apart from each other as possible as Teddy sat down between James and Harry. Ginny sat down between her youngest son and husband after kissing her mother’s cheek chastely. “We’ve been up since five-thirty getting the boys dressed and ready and we still didn’t win. I officially give up,” she finished huffily and took some bacon off Harry’s plate. “Who won though?”

“They slept here,” Ron told her, nodding his head towards their eldest brother. Bill grinned at the two of them, stretching his arms back over his head in victory.

“You didn’t lose at the very least,” Mr Weasley told his daughter who, Harry noted with a smirk, looked mutinous.

“It’s still cheating,” Ginny muttered.

“Eggs, Teddy?” Fleur asked with a wide smile, offering up a plate.

“Yes please,” he said, accepting a plate from Fleur. Hermione seemed to find this interaction highly amusing, and shot a look to Ginny who hid a smile in a goblet of pumpkin juice.

“Can we go flying, Dad?” James asked Harry, and his brother’s head whipped around at this.

“Please Mum, Dad, please?” Albus echoed excitedly. “We only just got here, but please?” Ginny rolled her eyes at them and handed Harry her bag. Placing Lily on his knee, he reached into Ginny’s charmed handbag where she had stowed the boys broomsticks earlier.

“Me too!” Rose said, appealing to Ron, knowing quite well her mother would say no. Ron handed her her broomstick from where it was stuffed under the table. Either he or Hermione had clearly anticipated this question before too long.

“Do you want to come too, Teddy?” James asked him eagerly, broom now in hand, grinning widely at the god-brother he idolised.

“I’ll come out later,” Teddy told him. “I’ll say hi to Victoire first, then I’ll come flying.”

“Is she still in bed?” Mrs Weasley asked as Hermione exchanged a look with Fleur again, and Ginny sighed softly next to Harry.

“Yes,” Fleur told her. “As is her brozzer.”

“Where’s Hugo?” Harry asked, only just noticing the absence of his nephew.

“Oh, he’s in the lounge,” Hermione told him.

“In the kiddie-cage,” Ron expanded, earning a dirty look from his wife. When given his first grandchild in Victoire, Mr Weasley had taken great delight at buying a muggle playpen from a shop in the village and putting it together. It had earned the nickname of ‘the kiddie-cage’ from Ron and George, who found this muggle device quite amusing.

“C’mon Lil,” Harry murmured, picking up his daughter with a heave and carrying her to the lounge and putting her down with her cousin, who was playing with a couple of model broomsticks and just looked up at his uncle curiously.

“Is your grandmum coming by later?” Harry heard Mrs Weasley ask Teddy as he re-entered the kitchen, plopping back into the seat next to his wife and helping himself to her pumpkin juice. Harry noticed the Fleur had disappeared upstairs, probably rousing her kids.

“She said she is,” Teddy told Mrs Weasley politely. “She’s working until one though.”

At this moment, there was a diversion in the form of a small red-headed figure. She was still wearing her long, floral nightdress; hair mussed up and smiled upon seeing her aunts and uncles at the table.

“Breakfast,” said Bill, pulling out his wife’s empty chair for his daughter and summoning a plate with a flick of his wand. Instead of responding to her father, she let out a high-pitched squeak. The almost twelve year old Victoire had frozen up upon seeing the shock of blue hair that was Teddy Lupin. Her jaw dropped slightly, deep blue eyes wide with shock.

“Hi,” Teddy said to her cheerfully as she took a shocked step backwards. She looked at him for a moment, and her traditional Weasley blush telling everyone she may be just slightly embarrassed, before spinning on the spot and hightailing back upstairs.

Ginny groaned audibly from next to Harry, who bit his knuckles in an effort to not laugh out loud. He knew perfectly well that they were both thinking of the same thing, the event that mirrored this one, the one that had happened nearly twenty years ago. He looked down determinedly at his plate, and moved his hand to under the table to place it on his wife’s knee in what he hoped was taken as silent support and comfort. He heard her head fall into her hands on the table with a clunk that broke through the silence that had fallen over the kitchen. Harry chanced a glance over at her, and she shot him a glare that quite clearly said ‘don’t you dare’, which only made it harder to not to bust out in laughter.

“You didn’t tell me he was here!” A voice from upstairs yelled at its mother, clearly audible to everyone in the kitchen, and causing Harry to further shake in silence.

“Well,” Ron snickered after a tense moment. “Am I the only one who’s getting déjà-vu?” Harry looked up at him, and meeting Ron’s eyes over the table, they both couldn’t contain it, breaking out into fits of laughter.

“Merlin,” Ginny moaned in angry embarrassment as her husband and youngest brother laughed uncontrollably. Harry felt like his stomach was about to burst as he pushed his glasses up his face to wipe away his tears of laughter. He felt Ginny’s small hand on top of his one on her knee, and she prised it off and flicked away from her angrily.

“Blimey,” Ron chuckled, calming down after half a minute, and Harry looked up through his watering eyes. Mrs Weasley had hidden her amusement with a slight smile, and Hermione, who had obviously heard the story, was glaring at Ron significantly, trying to hush him with a ‘just-because-you-have-the-emotional-ran ge-of-a-teaspoon’ glare. Teddy was looking rather confused at the ruckus, looking from his godfather, to Ron, then to his embarrassed godmother.

“Oh, come on, it was funny,” said Harry, all traces of laughter gone upon seeing the stony look on his wife’s face. She bit her lip and shook her head at him.

“Actually, it’s not,” she told him. She slapped him across the back of the head half-playfully, shooting a slight smile at him over her shoulder as she got up and headed upstairs to provide comfort for her niece. He knew that by now she would also be grinning, perhaps trying not to laugh at the irony of the situation. The moment of anguish would have gone, and, Harry thought with a smile, she would probably be reflecting on how fantastically things had gone from the butter dish days.

“Take my word for it, mate,” Harry said, turning to a bewildered Teddy and clapping him on the shoulder as saw Ginny’s retreating figure leave the room. “You’re already a goner.”


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A/N: Well? Enjoyed? Disliked? Let me know! Fix You epilogue should also be up now if anyone wants to check it out.
Reviews 54
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