Alfred had been getting ready for hours. No, actually that was a lie. He just whipped a sweater over his head and dove into the fire, without checking to see if it was out. It wasn't. He ended up burning his clothes, and had to rush back upstairs to change. So he put on the sweater that Olive had given him from France, and dove back into the fireplace, this time shouting the address out and throwing the floo powder in before he actually tried walking through fire. He hated travelling by floo. He whirled around mid-air, glad that he hadn't eaten before this. He would certainly have lost it.
And then he landed. Straight in the middle of her fireplace. He fell out of it onto his nose, barely missing breaking his glasses. He was full of ash. He HATED this mode of transportation and could not wait to learn to apparate this year. Alfred grinned up at Liam, who was the only one in the room.Luckily, the boy didn't burst out laughing. Instead, he just motioned to the kitchen, which is where Alfred went next.
He laughed under his breath. Olive was wearing a pink apron. And cooking. And merlin, it was funny. He bit his tongue, trying not to laugh aloud. Instead, he stalked up quietly behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder. Any lower, and her father would probably have his neck, and he didn't want that tonight.
"Don't forget the Olives, Olive." He smirked.
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