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american boy - estelle ft kanye west✦°
°✦'and you thought he was cute before, look at this pea coat, tell me he's broke'
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Y/N WOKE, WITHOUT HARRY NEXT TO HER, though he was just getting ready, pulling his shirt over his head. ron banged his way into the room, pulling a sweatshirt on top of his t shirt, looking irritable.
"the sooner we get on the train the better." he said. "you two won't be able to sleep in the same bed and i can get away from percy at hogwarts. now he's accusing me of dripping tea on his photo of penelope clearwater. you know," ron grimaced, "his girlfriend. she's hidden her face under the frame because her nose has gone all blotchy."
y/n and harry exchanged looks because the two of them knew damn well that they sleep in the same bed all the time.
"don't be jealous, ron, mione might want to sleep in the same bed as you at some point." y/n said tiredly. ron flushed red.
"i've got to tell you something," harry began, but they were interrupted by fred and george, who had looked in to congratulate ron on infuriating percy again. george wiggled his eyebrows at y/n suggestively, causing her to roll her eyes.
they headed down to breakfast after getting ready, mr weasley was reading the daily prophet and mrs weasley was telling hermione and ginny about a love potion she'd made as a young girl. y/n decided to join them because what would she do if she had to talk to mr weasley, as sweet a man he was. what can you say to him, honestly. that rubber ducks are cool?
"and i slipped it into his drink when he wasn't looking." mrs weasley said.
"that is completely wild mrs weasley." y/n says laughing. "i should take a page out of your book sometime."
"oh you wont ever need to y/n, with your gorgeous face." she replied with a smile.
"yeah and you're so nice too!" said ginny, hermione nodding along vigourously.
"you sweet, beautiful human beings." she said, faking a shy look, making them laugh.
they all started heaving their trunks down the stairs of the leaky cauldron and piled them up at the door. a small wickerwork basket stood beside the heap of trunks, spitting loudly.
