Chapter 5 – Flour, Fireworks, and First Warnings

Morning at the Burrow was never quiet.

Harry woke to shouting.

Not angry shouting.

Competitive shouting.

“I DID NOT USE EXTRA FLOUR!”

“You absolutely did!”

Harry sat up just as something white exploded against the bedroom door.

He blinked.

Was that flour?

Ron groaned from his bed. “They’ve started early.”

Another bang echoed downstairs.

Harry rushed down the stairs — and froze.

The kitchen looked like a baking disaster.

Flour dusted the air like snow.

Fred was laughing hysterically.

George had what looked like jam in his hair.

And in the center of it all—

Y/N stood on a chair holding a wooden spoon like a sword.

“I demand justice!” she declared dramatically.

Mrs. Weasley turned slowly toward her.

“Justice?” she repeated.

“Yes. Fred sabotaged the batter.”

Fred gasped. “Lies!”

Y/N jumped off the chair and pointed the spoon at him.

“You put extra sugar.”

“You put salt in George’s tea last week!”

“That was strategic.”

Harry burst out laughing.

This was not the calm, quiet girl who bent metal bars.

This was chaos.

Ginny stood near the sink, trying not to giggle.

Her long red hair was tied back loosely, and she kept glancing between Harry and Y/N.

When Y/N noticed her staring, she tossed her a clean apron.

“Pick a side.”

Ginny blinked. “What?”

“Battle of the batter.”

Ginny smiled shyly and moved beside her.

“I’ll help.”

Ron sighed. “She’s corrupted my sister already.”

Y/N grinned mischievously. “Too late.”

Mrs. Weasley eventually restored order, though not without muttering about “this house turning into a circus.”

After breakfast, they spilled into the garden.

Gnomes were being de-gnomed.

Fred demonstrated the proper throwing technique.

Y/N tried it once — and accidentally launched the gnome much farther than expected.

It vanished over the hedge.

Fred stared.

“…Blimey.”

She blinked innocently. “Oops.”

Harry folded his arms. “Adrenaline again?”

She smirked.

Ron looked slightly impressed.

Ginny watched carefully.

Not suspiciously.

Just curiously.

Later, when the others were distracted, Ginny approached her quietly.

“Does Hogwarts feel different this year?” she asked.

Y/N tilted her head.

“In what way?”

Ginny hesitated.

“Just… different.”

For a brief second—

Y/N’s expression shifted.

Not playful.

Not teasing.

Still.

Observant.

The wind moved through the tall grass.

She scanned the horizon instinctively.

Then the moment passed.

“It always changes,” she said lightly. “That’s what makes it interesting.”

Ginny nodded, though she didn’t look fully convinced.

Across the garden, Harry was attempting to fix a broken garden tool and failing miserably.

Y/N burst out laughing and ran over.

“You’re holding it upside down!”

“I am not!”

“You absolutely are!”

She grabbed it from him and fixed it in seconds.

Harry squinted at her.

“Show-off.”

“You’re welcome.”

Fred whispered to George, “I’d duel her.”

George shook his head. “You’d lose.”

They both looked thoughtful.

As the sun dipped lower, the sky dimmed.

Laughter faded.

The air cooled.

Y/N stood at the edge of the garden again.

Her playful energy was gone.

Her posture changed.

Relaxed—but alert.

She wasn’t looking at the house.

She was looking beyond it.

Listening.

Watching.

The Burrow felt safe.

Warm.

Alive.

But safety could be temporary.

Behind her, Harry called out, “Oi! Stop brooding and come inside!”

She turned immediately — grin returning like nothing had shifted.

“Brooding is your thing, not mine.”

Ginny watched her go.

And for just a second—

She wondered how someone could feel like sunshine and a storm at the same time.

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