All was well

5. Ginny-For starters, I Liebe her beautiful red hair. It's so gorgeous. I Liebe it when she has that white blume in her hair, it's pretty. I also Liebe her eyes. She's just stunning. She has an amazing smile. She is such a natural beauty.

4. McGonagall-Now, before Du start calling me weird, let me explain. Have Du seen her as a young woman? She's gorgeous! I Liebe her big eyes, they're so amazing. She has gorgeous hair.

3. Luna-I Liebe Luna's looks! She's stunning! I Liebe her long, blonde hair. I also adore her eyes, not to big and not too small. I Liebe her rettich earrings, they compliment her...

Please read and tell me what Du all think about it! My first one *fingers crossed*

Summary: My first ever fanfic! The Weiter Generation kids can't get enough during Weihnachten at the Burrow! All ages set two years before epilogue.

"Watch out!"

A snowball sailed through the air, nearly missing a blonde head as it hit a tree.
"Take that!" cried fifteen Jahr old Victoire Weasley as she got up and aimed a snowball at her sister, thirteen Jahr old Dominique Weasley. Dominique squealed as the snowball collided with her forehead. "I'll get Du for that!" she yelled, as she chucked a snowball through...

50 ways to know you’re obsessed with Harry Potter:

50. People say that Du have read too much Harry Potter no matter what people say.
49, Du know Du have never read oder seen too much Harry Potter.
48. Du own all the DVDs of the Harry Potter films.
47. Du own all seven Harry Potter books, the two textbooks written Von J.K. Rowling and the Tales of the Beedle Bard.
‎46. Your Favorit Bücher and Filme is Harry Potter.
45. Du compare everything to Harry Potter.
44. Du quote the novels…all the time.
43. Du not only quote the novels, Du allude to all things Harry Potter in everyday life.
42....

"MUM, Du bought the 'No pulp' kind again..." I grumble, grimacing with my first sip of orange juice.

"Sorry, dear. I always forget which kind Du like," she apologizes.

"It's 'SOME pulp'," I remind her for what must be the millionth time.

She scribbles something on the grocery Liste tacked to the inside of the silverware cupboard door.

"Run out and get the mail?" She asks.

I run my thumb up the stack of napkins that sits on the table. "Do I have to?"

She turns around and gives me a look that usually means No-dear-you-don't-have-to-but-if-you-don't-I'm-going-to-buy-more-no-pulp-orange-juice....