I wanted to meet Mr. Lockhart so much as he’ll be signing his books in Flourish and Blotts after few days but I don’t think I’ll be able to come back then. Some people in the bookshop told me about all the great heroic stuff he’s done. Maybe I’ll get to meet him at Hogwarts if he’s this famous.

-Colin Creevey

Hogwarts Textbooks

Draco Malfoy has no regrets about the relationship he has with you. Especially as the War has only justended.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you watched with bated breath at the intensity of the fight between your current worst nightmare and your classmate.

Words had been shared between the two adversaries but you were overly engaged in fighting for your life to be really interested in what the two males were actually saying to one another. Only catching glimpses of them as you twisted and contorted in your grim dance. 

As you faced your newest opponent, duelling aggressive spells towards them, not allowing them a moment to attack you, waves of powerful magic reached you, overpowering you; crippling all sense of movement as it compelled you to turn to its epicentre in wonder; in horror. In hope.

Harry Potter.

Survivor.

Victor.

Returning to your body from the shock, you turned to your side and cast a spell to your opponent who didn’t even realise what had happened to him, still gravely focused on the fall of his Master. If you hadn’t have been in the battle, the sound his skull made as it connected with the floor, would have made you cringe and sick to your stomach.

Looking around the room, what was once the immaculately gorgeous Great Hall, your ears ringing, you started to tend to the injured. You prepared yourself with studying medical journals and shadowing Madame Pomfrey for this very reason. You had basic medic skills, considering who you were friends with and with the threat of war, at the time, becoming all the more real, you studied more and for longer. 

During the time it took, from the first break of sunlight to the Hall being cast in a golden hue, you had tended to a range of injuries. As small as disinfecting cuts to something as painful as wrapping broken ribs. 

Hermione and Ginny had made their way over to you both to seek medical treatment and to make sure you were alright. The younger ginger had hugged you tightly, when you had wrapped her wrist securely in bandage, burying her head into your neck for comfort and to bawl her sorrows out; Hermione huddled close to the pair of you, offering her support with a gentle hand rubbing Ginny’s back. 

The three of you stood there for a while. Basking in the peace and emotional comfort of each other. Long enough for Ginny to wipe her eyes and gather her wits once more, before taking a deep breath and headed over to her family. 

Hermione stayed with you, her arm hooked through yours, supporting each other as you observed the room. “Hey, ‘Mione?” You whispered, your strength was slowly depleting and the strain had made it difficult to talk at a normal level.

“Hmm?” She too was experiencing the drain of energy. Unable to really formulate a sentence without effort. 

Both of you standing with your weight balanced against the other.

“Are you and Ron together now?”

She snorted, emotions were taught and laughter was a foreign concept at the moment but a small twitch of her lips gave way to the beginnings of a smile, “yeah, I think so.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“I told you so.” 

“Oh, Y/N.” Hermione drawled, a small smile now on her lips. “What about you and Draco?”

Your response was a small shrug, worry tightening its chains around your heart as you admitted, “I haven’t seen him since before all…this.”

“If it helps, I think I can see him across the room.” Your eyes darted over everyone in the Hall which was thoroughly packed with people. Quickly, your eyes landed on a strikingly blonde head of hair in the direction Hermione had gestured to.

From this distance you observed, scanning his body, as much of it as you could from where you were, for any obvious injuries and wounds. With a deep breath that exhaled as a heavy sigh, you couldn’t see anything.

“Go to him.” Was the quiet prompt you received in your ear. A quick glance back to Hermione, ensuring she would be okay, she pushed you on.

Your feet wouldn’t run as your steps were already heavy from exhaustion. 

No one stopped you as you passed them, nor did you want them to.

Your tired brain could only focus on its task, getting to Draco. Cheering your limbs to keep moving. You were nearly there.

Narcissa met your gaze, a fleeting smile gracing her lips as she watched you approach before putting her hand on her son’s shoulder and encouraging him to look up.

His eyes lit up in a blaze of renowned emotion and his body rocketed up from where he was sat, rushing to wrap you up in a tight embrace.

Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck, holding him in place. His own had secured  themselves around your waist and along your back.

You were embracing each other so tightly, so securely that for a moment, no one could tell what was Draco and what was you. 

With a hiccup, Draco lifted his head, gently resting his forehead against yours, your noses brushing and eyes locked together. A lone tear fell down your cheek as Draco took a deep breath to steady himself, “I love you.”

A smile bloomed on your face, “as I love you. No regrets, Draco. None.” Declared with finality from your soul, sealed with a kiss.

A promise for the both of you that no matter what happened in the past, what had only juststoppedhappening, and what will happen, will be done because neither one of you would carry regrets into your future together. 

It was not an immediate fix. No one overcomes the turmoil of a War overnight. 

It was a promise between the two of you, only. 

One that would help you both to heal. To move on. To grow and to mature. 

To live.

To be happy.

“No regrets.”

orange-peony:

Six Sentence Sunday

Thank you so much for tagging me @captain-aralias! I’m working on three Drarry fics for anon fests at the moment, so nothing I can share there unfortunately.

Here’s a snippet from a SnowBaz fic I was planning on posting tomorrow (if I manage):

“Future predicting spells never work,” I declare, fiddling with the hem of my waistcoat. Besides, why would I want to know what happens in the future? What if I find out that I’m dead, or worse, that Snow is?

“Let me try it,” Niall says, nearly falling off the bed in an attempt to retrieve his wand. “There you go.”

“Don’t point that at me,” Dev complains, so Niall turns and grins at me instead.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” Niall casts, pointing his wand at me.  

The world suddenly goes black.

Shit.

Tagging (no pressure and apologies if you have already done it): @moonstruckwytch,@bubble-gumhead,@phoebe-delia,@hogwartsfirebolt,@onbeinganangel,@acnelli,@academicdisaster24,@ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm,@emmesse96reborn,@written-in-ash,@snarkyships-drarryside,@m0srael,@softlystarstruck and anyone who fancies sharing their WIP.

HELLOOOOOOOO

IT IS NOT SUNDAY AND I AM NOT EVEN SURE IF I ACTUALLY GET HOW THIS WORKS SO MAYBE I AM A STEP BEFORE EMBARRASSING ME VERY BAD BUT THATS MY JOB AND IM HERE FOR IT

Thanks to the lovely @orange-peony as always super sweet for thinking about me ♥️♥️♥️ and let’s crack on, six wip that will probably never gonna see the light of the day yeah (or what I’m trying/tried to work on these days)

IN ORDER

-yae Miko fan art cause i love her so much and this is her week

-Pansy x Ginny fan art cause ✨women✨

-no idea seriously

-zenitsu commission for a friendddd

-currently ig and Twitter profile image

-Battle of Hogwarts gone bad (bad in a way where I completely fckd up the colours … yeeeeAah)

THATS ALL IF I FAILED THE TASK PLS DONT TELL HAVE A LOVELY DAY YOU ALL AND ANYONE WHO WANTS TO PARTECIPATE (you should firstly choose someone more serious but-) FEEL FREE TO DO IT ♥️♥️♥️

(Ps cause they are not finished there aren’t any mark on them so please PLEASE don’t use these images thank you!!)

Quidditch commemoration match after one year of the Battle of Hogwarts

✨ Even when home is lost, it is never forgotten✨

Exams are over so I’ll be able to art more often :)

svd126:

24 years ago tonight Molly Weasley still has all 7 of her children alive. Tomorrow she will only have 6 alive. Andromeda Tonks is only morning the loss of her husband and her favorite cousin. Tomorrow she will be morning the loss of her only child and her son in law and trying to figure out how to raise her grandson. Tonight dumbledore army is hiding in the room of requirements not knowing that tomorrow half of them would be gone. Harry, Ron and Hermione are at Gringotts. The trio will head to  Hogsmeade. The Order of the Phoenix will be alerted that Harry has arrived to Hogwarts. No one will sleep tonight because in the early hours of May 2 the battle of Hogwarts will begin. 

Chapter 47 now posted!

Read it on Ao3
Read it on FFN

I know, I know. It’s been a while. I haven’t given up on this story though and am happy to share that a new chapter has been posted.

An Innocent Obsession:  A pureblood Death Eater. A brilliant young muggle-born witch. An innocent attraction that becomes an obsession. An obsession that will turn the tide of war and change the wizarding world forever.

Introverted, until someone mentions Harry Potter.

masterlist!

my ao3 (i’m more active here)

a/n: umm, heyyyy. idk what this is, i just wanted to write and i also wanted to let y’all know i’m alive. miss u. 

summary: drarry after the war, dealing with trauma and love. roadtrip included

warnings: angsty, trauma, implied self h*rm - don’t read if you’re not up for it <3 stay well

Draco had never seen a car, let alone lived in one. It wasn’t as if he wanted to, either.

But Harry was insistent; he was going to leave, and Draco was welcome to come if he’d like, but if not, Harry would see him in a few weeks or so. 

He had decided after one of his nightmares, the repeating one of wandering aimlessly down the halls of Hogwarts, just as tall as he was at 11, calling out for everyone he could think of and getting no response in return. He would feel around the pockets of his robes, only to find nothing but one of his small broken figurines from under the stairs and a muggle coin. He had no wand and it was getting dark, and still, no one answered him. He searched for the Great Hall, for the Fat Lady, for Dumbledore’s office, for the Pitch, for Hagrid’s hut, even for the dungeons. There was nothing, it was just one long hallway with creeping shadows, just as unfamiliar as his first night at Hogwarts. As he walked, he had a horrible pit in his stomach, even in the dream, because he knew what was at the end of the hall. It would be the mirror, and in the mirror, he would watch his parents die, again and again until he woke up screaming with sweat and tears covering his face. 

Draco was there, of course. He was always there. Harry would only be able to see a flash of his hair in the small sliver of moonlight that peaked through their curtains. Then, faster than he could object, Draco pulled him back down, pulling his sleeves over his hands and using them to wipe Harry’s face, smoothing his hair down whichever way it could go. 

It was like, after the war. Harry had expected so much worse, and yet he underestimated everything else. He had thought it would be so heavy, that he could never escape the dark, or the screams, or the death. It turned out that he had never escaped the part of his life before that. He had nightmares of the Dursleys, nightmares of his parents, nightmares of Quirrell and the Basilisk. It swirled around his brain constantly, like a muggy sewer with a drain clogged. He felt like he needed his skin pulled back and for everything to be scooped out and polished. 

The morning after the last nightmare, Harry awoke before Draco. He laid with Draco’s arm draped across his chest, watching it rise and fall as he breathed. He held his breath for a moment, watching as Draco’s fingers reflexively gripped Harry’s shirt. He continued breathing, watching Draco’s hand relax. 

He closed the blinds completely as he quietly left the room, looming in the doorway to look at the bed. He had left almost no mark, his pillow barely dented from where he had twisted and turned all night. But there was Draco, curled into an invisible space as if Harry were still there, as if he needed Harry to unwind him and reposition him for the day. 

Harry set off to their small, shabby kitchen and put the kettle on. He put two pieces of bread in the toaster, opening their fridge and surveying their pathetic groceries. Neither of them had been taught to live on their own, and it showed. All they had was soda, beer, an unopened packet of hotdogs, butter, and milk. Harry stood upright and looked at the counter; they didn’t even have hotdog buns. 

He had just started buttering Draco’s toast when two delicate arms wrapped around his middle. His back instinctively curved into the shape of Draco’s chest, and he craned his neck to afford Draco the small inch he needed to place his chin on Harry’s shoulder comfortably.

It was wonderful, and still, Harry could feel it resting in his bones, his skin itching to be peeled and flayed open.

Draco had very little fight in him, these days. He felt it melt away every time Harry broke his glasses, or every time Harry watered his plants, or every time Harry picked up the knitting needles and started a new project. It was replaced by something warm, something that was becoming so hot it burned him. But, the fight was gone. The part of him that had been leading him towards harsh teasing and relentless bullying was gone, instead replaced by a cold layer over his eyes. The inside of him burned with love for Harry, but it was like he was submerged in an ice tank and can’t warm himself. He did everything quietly; he found the patterns in which he could get Harry’s hair to lay, he watched Harry with silent interest in everything he did, he offered himself to Harry whenever he could. 

So, of course, Draco was sat in the passenger’s seat of the shitty car Harry had managed to buy. He couldn’t be anywhere else, not when everything was cold without Harry.

Harry found it hard to drive for two reasons. The first was that he was a bad driver. He hadn’t exactly gotten an abundance of opportunities to learn growing up, and it would be reasonable to say that he had hoped for the best when he took his test and was pleasantly surprised when he passed. The second was that Draco looked quite good next to him, distractingly good. He still wore a long sleeve, even though it was warm enough for Harry to wear a t-shirt with the windows down, but Draco only wore long sleeves after the war. It had been hard for Draco to watch Harry look at his forearm, at what Draco had done to it out of shame after having to look at the mark himself for so long. So, he covered it with sleeves as often as he could. His hair was pushed off his forehead- the both of them had been neglecting haircuts, letting the other perform a cosmetic charm when they felt it was necessary- and wisped around his face like a heavenly halo. His eyes were still an icy blue, though, for the first time in months, they looked quite warm. He had a red flush on his cheeks when he noticed Harry staring at him, smiling and putting a delicate hand over his face as he turned toward the window bashfully.

As it got dark, all Harry could see was the few and ar between oncoming headlights, spotted with the sparse flashes of light dotting the rural countryside. The light from the radio illuminated the inside of the car, Draco’s long and melancholy CD’s he had bought when Harry took him into town. Draco had been asleep for an hour or so, and things were starting to blur in Harry’s vision. He pulled over, waking Draco from his light doze. They both lowered their seats, Harry shutting off the car. Without the noisy hum of the engine and Draco’s music, it was silent besides the wildlife outside. Wind moved the trees overhead, shaking leaves onto the windshield as they sat, idle. Harry turned to his side, laying as comfortably as he could (which was not very comfortable at all), and looked at Draco’s tired face. It was so different at night, his cheekbones casting dark shadows, eyes foggy, mouth in a familiar straight line. Harry wondered if he could close his eyes and reach out, recognize Draco’s face from touch alone. His eyes fluttered shut and he did exactly that, listening for the quiet sigh Draco often released when Harry touched him unexpectedly. Draco pulled his legs onto the seat, his body curled up. Harry’s fingers found the dip above Draco’s lips, the slight point of his chin. He smoothed his thumb over Draco’s eyebrows, invisible unless illuminated in the right light. He could see Draco behind his eyelids, as distinct as if he had opened his eyes. In the midst of his clogged and diseased brain, Draco was there, distinct as a bright light. 

“This isn’t very comfortable,” Harry sighed, turning onto his back and planting his feet on the floor of the car, “is it?”

“No,” Draco said, not sounding like he minded it at all.

Harry wordlessly crawled in the backseat, pushing discarded food wrappers onto the floor. Draco followed him, listening to Harry’s stifled laughter as they navigated their long legs in the small space.

They twisted and turned until they lay side by side, Harry stripping off his shirt to prepare for the night heat. Draco pulled his sleeves over his hands, only his fingers visible as they traced up and down the side of Harry’s neck. Draco felt, suddenly, that they were alone. As if they hadn’t been alone in their apartment for all those months, as if he didn’t feel alone his whole life. He was reminded of how young they were, of the lack of age on Harry’s body beneath his fingertips. He wondered if they looked like boys together, or if the war was clear on their faces. Had the people in the gas station known? Had they seen two boys who had hated each other all their lives, two boys fighting each other in a way? Or had they seen two boys traveling the countryside together, buying too many crisps and candies and sodas? 

The next day, after they had lazily kissed each other for hours and Harry reluctantly moved back to the driver’s seat, Draco thought of all the places Harry had told him about. About the beaches Remus had always wanted to go to but never got the chance, the woods Sirius told him James loved so much, the mountains Hermione had promised him were breathtaking. Draco thought that Harry might be showing him the good that was tangled with the mold within him. That maybe, as they drove, Harry was leaving behind everything that crowded his head. Harry hoped that the sun might warm the outside of Draco, just to match the inside a little.

after the war

Draco Malfoy x f!Hufflepuff!Reader

A blurb, continuing the Tri Wizard Championseries.

request:I’d really like to see another fanfic with Draco showing what happened to them after the triwizard tournament! That would be a great idea! [via@booksmione]

a/n: HI! Here’s a request! I loved writing this, I usually am not a fan of after-war fics and prefer fics where the characters are still attending Hogwarts, but this makes my heart SOAR I love it. I hope you enjoyed, thank you for requesting this and keeping my favorite (and only) series alive <3

word count: 1160

warnings:mentions of blood loss, crucio, scars,death,war, etc. also fluff LMAOOO

summary: Y/N and Draco managed to find their way back to each other after three years of healing from the well-known Tri Wizard Tournament.

taglist:@drawlfoy@fanficflaneuse@babyhoneystvles@ccelinewritess@nekee-lilac02@dracofeltonmalfoy

masterlist

read the series if you haven’t already!⬇️

{ 1 }{ 2 }{ 3 }{ 3.5 }{ 4 }{ 5 }{ 6 }

gif credit: @popartism

The war was a massive devastation for the Wizarding world.

Y/N was still grieving the loss of her best friend three years prior. Her school, her home had turned into a place she didn’t even recognize. A prison.

Just as quickly as Hogwarts had changed, she had watched family and friends die within its walls, protecting the students within.

Every single night in her dorm before the Battle of Hogwarts, Y/N would listen to the radio in search of any names listed off that she knew.

Although she claimed she was listening for loved ones, she was really listening for one particular name. Malfoy.

Y/N knew that there was no possible way the Malfoys would be put on the casualties list that grows every day, but she still listened with quiet breathing and a rapid heartbeat to hear the name of the boy she still loved.

From what she could remember, the battle was a blur. A blip in time. Faces that she knew, lifeless on the ground around her. Faces she has grown up with for almost the past decade.

Y/N couldn’t count how many people she loved and held dearly that she had seen dead. Fred Weasley, leaving his other half George. Nymphadora Tonks, a beloved Hufflepuff alumni, and Remus Lupin, Harry Potter’s last standing familial figure and spouse to Tonks. Lavender Brown, the Gryffindor that Y/N had grown quite close to while Hogwarts was under the direction of multiple death eaters. Colin Creevey, the young muggle-born Gryffindor who stood incredibly brave, and another close friend of Y/N’s.

~•.*✰

While attempting to save another young student, Y/N was hit with the Cruciatus Curse, and was severely attacked by multiple Death-Eaters. She could barely feel the pain, when her eyes focused on a head full of white hair that was speeding to wear she lay in a puddle of her own blood in the Forbidden Forest.

“How did you get out here? Why are you out here, Y/N?” Draco’s voice was deeper, aged, yet frantic and shaking. “Oh Merlin, you’re bleeding so much. We need to get you to the Great Hall.”

“Draco?” Y/N’s quiet voice asked. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was trembling, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She touched his face, leaving a bloody handprint behind. She tried to convince herself that he really was here, that he really was trying to get her help, and he wasn’t just a hallucination from the blood loss.

“Close your eyes.” Draco instructed.

A moment passed, and Y/N felt her stomach drop as if she were on a fast roller coaster.

“I need help! Help!” She soon heard Draco screaming, his voice cracking with every syllable. Bustling voices around her had forced her to open her eyes, and she soon realized he had apparated both of them into the Great Hall. Molly Weasley, a dear friend of Y/N’s mother, rushed over as two students behind her carried a cot.

They transferred her onto the cot, working as quickly as they could to heal the wounds without any more blood loss. Y/N was walking the thin line of unconsciousness, but refused to let herself pass out while Draco was still near her.

She knew he worried too much. The creases permanently etched into his forehead told her enough.

With the remaining strength Y/N had, she reached towards him to grab his hand. His eyes snapped down to her the second she made contact with his hand, and he clasped it in both and immediately started planting tear-filled kisses along every inch of her exposed skin.

“You’re gonna be alright. Everything is going to be fine. Please, stay awake. Stay awake for me, Y/N/N. Please.”

~•.*✰

“Wow, so Dad was a softie!” Y/N’s and Draco’s eldest daughter, Lyra, exclaimed.

“Yes, he really was.” Y/N smiled warmly, laying her hand atop Draco’s as they sat on the couch.

“So, that’s how you got that scar? It’s cool!” Scorpius piped in, pointing to Y/N’s stomach, where a prominent white scar lead up to her shoulder, meeting the three scars on her back from her fourth year.

“Mom, you have had some crazy accidents. How did Dad never have heart attacks?” Cassi asked, leaning forward in complete and utter amusement.

“Oh, I can promise you, Dad did have heart attacks. I enjoy keeping him on his toes.” Y/N winked, leaning back into Draco, who had an arm over her shoulder.

“Can you tell us about the tournament again, Mom? Please?” Scorpius begged, pouting.

“I think it’s about time for you three to go to bed, hm? Mom’s had enough revisiting her very, very dangerous experiences throughout her years at school. Let’s get you all to bed, shall we? Big day tomorrow.” Draco piped in, pushing himself off the couch and helping his children stand from the carpet.

“I’m nervous for tomorrow! First day of fourth year. I wonder if mine will be as adventurous as Moms.” Lyra said, walking slowly to her room.

“And first day of third for me. I hope I get to meet a Hippogriff like you did your third year, Dad.” Scorpius followed his sister through the hallway to their bedrooms.

“And first day of Hogwarts for our darling little Cassiopeia, isn’t that right?” Y/N appeared behind them, scooping her youngest up and planting kisses everywhere on her face. Cassi squealed, giggling loudly as Y/N continued walking to their separate rooms.

“Goodnight, my darling lovebugs.” Y/N said, blowing kisses through each of the open doorways to her children.

“Goodnight, my favorite troublemakers. Get some sleep, or I’ll have the boggarts come scare you!” Draco laughed mischievously, just before getting whacked lightly upside the head by his wife. She quietly scolded him, and he put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Goodnight! Love you the mostest.” Cassi peeped up, flicking her tiny wrist to turn off her lamp.

“Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Dad. Thank you for telling us the story again.” Scorpius yawned, turning on his side and doing just as his sister had done to turn off his lamp.

“Thank you, for reminding us again how cool our parents are. Love you guys.” Lyra said, snapping lightly to turn out her lamp. She always was a bit more advanced than her brother and sister.

Y/N quietly closed all three doors, before heading to her and Draco’s room to finally get some sleep. It wasn’t long before they were both dozing off, Y/N in Draco’s arms.

“Goodnight, my love.” Draco whispered, planting a kiss into Y/N’s hair.

“Goodnight, Dray. I love you.” She whispered back, her eyes closing and letting sleep finally take over.

Even though she struggled to get the happy ending she wanted after fourth year, she could now proudly say she was a part of a loving family with the boy she had loved since she was 14. She was has happy, healthy, and healed as she could be.

And that was her perfect happy ending.

~•.*✰

final a/n: as you can guess, Cassi is named after the constellation Cassiopeia and Lyra is also named after a constellation! I didn’t want Scorp to be an only child, so I gave him an older and a younger sister. I hope you all enjoyed, I really love this and now I’m mad at the lack of storyline after the war for Draco >:( anyways I just like smacked this out in 20 minutes because I’ve been in a Draco loving mood recently?????? Ok lol but I hope y’all enjoyed!!

weasleyimaginewheezes:

George x reader / Broken

A/n Yay! I finally broke through my short writers block and wrote this. It’s angsty and fluffy towards the end, the perfect mix :). I might feel like writing a part 2 this when I feel free but for now here is this lovely requested piece. P.S. I love all the lovely requests I’ve received and promise to answer everyone (however long it may take) :). A/n

Request: Hellooo, I wanted to request a george Weasley x reader with #29 and #36 if that’s possible. I love your writing by the way (from anon)

Word Count: 1,833

Warning: Some swearing, mentions of death, grief and sadness.

Promptshere. * 29.“I don’t want to ruin you.” *36.“You won’t scare me away.” 

You stared down at the diamond ring on your finger as it glistened in the dim sunlight. It was so beautiful and was meant to make you feel happy, make you smile and be reminded of the one that put it on your finger. And whilst it used to do all of those things, you couldn’t help but feel the sense of sorrow as you twirled the ring around your finger.

The memory of his proposal would of course bring a smile to your face but then you’d remember you haven’t spoken to him for several months and your heart would sink a little more. 

You had gotten engaged to George just before the battle had properly begun. It was the year after you had both left Hogwarts and Fred and George had just opened the shop. He spent his first real lot of money from his earnings to buy you the ring. Of course you had said yes, you’d loved George since what had felt like forever and although it took him a little longer to catch up, you knew he felt the same unconditional love for you. 

Everyone was ecstatic for the both of you, pleased for any good news they could get in the times they were in. Molly was a little harder to convince but after George reminded her, how young her and Arthur had been when they had wed, her argument of ‘that was different’ seemed to falter as she remembered the state of things outside. 

You had sometimes lost yourself on cloud nine, forgetting that when you weren’t snuggled in George’s arms there was a battle to be fought. That was until it could no longer be ignored and you prepared yourselves to fight. 

Just before you went into Hogwarts with the order leading the way, George pulled you to the side. 

“Hey,” He smiled at you but it wasn’t his usual gleeful one, their was a sort of terror behind it. “I just wanted to say that-“ He took a deep breath. “I love you okay? And no matter what happens, if we both-“ He paused again, the sentence too painfully real to say aloud. You knew he meant if you both survived. “I’m gonna marry you.” His words and smile were so sure. 

You smiled nervously at him, returning his words of love as he brushed a hair away from your face. You nodded, the next words not being able to form in your dry throat. He leant down and pressed his forehead to yours before kissing your lips sweetly, as if it might be your last.

The rest of the battle was a blur. You remembered fighting, losing Harry, Harry coming back to life and most vividly you remembered losing Fred. Remembered George sobbing over his twins body. You had wanted to speak to him, hold him until he stopped hurting but Hermione warned you against it and part of you couldn’t help but agree. So you’d left but not before sending a fleeting sad smile in George’s direction. His eyes had met yours across the hall but you couldn’t read them anymore, all you could see was pain. 

And that’s why you were sat here in the darkness of your small apartment (you had brought it after you left Hogwarts), remembering lost memories and looking at your ring like it was the last broken piece of a puzzle, never to be solved. You didn’t even have the energy to cry anymore, just stare blankly into space and hope it was all a nightmare.

But it wasn’t. 

Your thoughts were interrupted only by the hopeful arrival of your tawny owl. She landed in the windowsill clicking her beak to announce her arrival. You rushed to your pet in a state of hopeful happiness but when you saw no letter, your heart resumed it’s bleak state and even your owl looked saddened.

You had been writing to George ever since the week after the battle. That’s when your mind had cleared enough to write a coherent sentence without crying onto the parchment. You had never expected a reply, you just couldn’t hold in all your words anymore. They were mostly letters of cliches; “hope you’re okay”, “I miss you.” “I’m sorry.” 

Every time you wrote one you wanted to scream at yourself. It was utter bullshit, every word. Of course you did miss him and you wanted him to be okay but as much as you tried the letters could never say what your heart wanted them to and they could never carry enough meaning. 

You gave up after 3 months of trying to send letters, each time your owl returned with nothing until one Sunday morning when she made a loud sound to wake you up. 

You sleepily woke up, heading in the direction to give her a treat for her troubles when you saw the letter dangle from her beak. You picked it up and instantly teared it open. The writing was neat, not George’s signature scrawl so once again you lost hope but read it anyway.

Dear (y/n),

As you know George isn’t feeling too well. I’m sorry dear he’s just not in a state to write to you or in fact do anything at the moment but I know he loves you dearly. He keeps your letters on him all the time, he’s always reading one to himself when I go up to see him. I wanted to thank you for your sweetness and patience in this time. I think it would be good for you to see him and I’d certainly love to as well. 

Pop by whenever you’re free. 

Molly

You smiled at her letter, tracing the ink of George’s name with your finger. You thought about the burrow, not too far from where you live at least via apparition but you couldn’t go. You wanted to with all your heart but you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to leave your apartment since the war had ended, too caught up in everything to go visit friends or even George. You just couldn’t bring yourself to go. 

A month later when you thought it was about time to shake yourself out of your headspace, you decided to go to the burrow. You arrived a little way down the hill from where the tall house was located. You gave yourself a second to let the dizzy spell you felt from apparating pass before setting off. 

You knocked twice, only waiting a short second before Molly opened the door. She wore the same warm smile she did when you had first met her but part of it seemed faded. Her smile quickly turned to confusion as she saw you. 

“Oh hello dear.” You greeted her back, asking to come in. “George just went to your apartment.” 

“Oh,” now it was your turn to be confused. Molly tilted her head a little at you before you knew what you had to do. You fled down the stone steps and apparated yourself back to your home. As soon as you got there, you saw George sitting on the floor by your door, he held a small bunch of flowers in his hand as his head rested on his knees. 

“Georgie?” You tentatively spoke, unsure of how exactly to handle this. His head shot up at the sound of your voice and he gave the ever so slight inkling of a smile. He stood up and dusted himself off. The first thing you noticed was he looked significantly thinner than the last time you had saw him, his eyes looked bloodshot as though he had been sleep-deprived for many months and he himself looked unsure of his whole presence.

“Hi.” He looked so nervous as he outstretched the flowers in his hand to you. They were 12 red and pink roses, your favourite. You smiled, the feeling of the expression almost foreign on your face as you took them. 

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” George ducked his head down and nodded in acknowledgment of your words. You opened the door and let him in. Then something passed between the two of you; an awkward silence. Something you had prided yourself never to have with George except one time as part of a joke. 

George gave an awkward smile that looked as if it caused him pain to do so. You looked around as if in search of the words to say to your fiancé. It was George who spoke up first. 

“I don’t want to ruin you.” George fidgeted as he said the quiet words which shocked you to hear. You immediately looked at him, his gaze was intently on the floor as he shuffled his feet. You could hear the deep shuddering breaths. 

“What?” Your voice was small but loud enough for George to bring his gaze to look at you. You walked closer to him, meeting his eyes. 

“I just- I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” You saw the water begin to form behind his eyes, threatening to spill and it broke your heart. “I feel so lost and broken and I just- I don’t want to ruin you (y/n) or scare you away because I don’t know who I am anymore.” A tear trickled down your own cheek and George looked away out of the curtained window, his chest heaving with unreleased sobs. His voice was quiet.

You closed what ever distance was left between you and brought your hand up to cup his jaw. “George.” He tried to pull away but you kept your hand steady prompting him to look at you. You could tell he was trying his best to not break into tears. “You’re not going to ruin me and you won’t scare me away. I promise because-” You had to take a deep breath as you paused, finding the words that you hadn’t been able to put to paper. “I feel lost too like I’m just floating through existence. But whenever I think about you and this,” you held up your left hand, demonstrating the ring on your finger. “It makes me feel like something’s still there and that maybe we can figure this out. Find our way together.” You were surprised at the coherent and calm tone of your voice as you spoke through your tears.  

George stared at the ring with an intensity in his eyes and as you lowered your hand back down, he stopped it and held it tightly in his own. You smiled at him as he kissed the ring. He began to nod and you saw him smile, a small yet genuine smile. Your free hand, which was still cupping his jaw, brought him closer to meet your lips. 

The kiss you shared in that moment wasn’t like the kisses of two teenagers when you were sneaking around Hogwarts or like before when you were new to adult relationships. It was two people utterly, unconditionally in love with each other and hoping to convey every emotion that hadn’t been shared in the past several months of being apart. It was two broken souls connecting together again, finding hope in the other. 

Once you pulled back, both smiling like you hadn’t been able to since the battle, George stroked your hair and said, “I’m still sticking to it you know? What I said.” At your curious look, he smiled again, you smiling back, never getting enough of his returning smile. “I’m going to marry you (y/n) (l/n).” 

You laughed as did George. The joy of his words and the sound of his unforced, genuine laughter settling into your heart.

weasleyimaginewheezes:

Smile once more like you did before (George Weasley x Reader)

A/N Set after the battle. Again, apologies for any errors or inaccuracies, if you find one tell me and I’ll fix it update: turns out I missed off the ending so it’s been added in A/N

You apparated a short distance a way from a large homely building you knew as the burrow. It looked darker somehow like a large grey cloud was looming over it and it’s inhabitants.

You cautiously made your way up to the front door and knocked twice. A large dish of steaming food was a welcome source of warmth to your chilled hands in the slight spring chill. Just as a gust of wind swept past you, the door swung open to reveal Molly Weasley. She smiled but you could tell it was forced even if she hadn’t meant it to be. You didn’t blame her after everything, it was hard for most to smile at the losses from the war especially those closest.

“Hello, dear.” She said in an attempt at a cheery tone.

“Hi. I-uhm.” You stumbled with unsureness in your voice. You held up the dish of casserole as if to let it speak for you. “I brought this. It’s not much but-”

“Oh thank you, how kind. Do come in.” Molly ushered you in and took the steaming plate as you passed her. As you walked into the kitchen with her you got a closer look at her eyes which were puffy and red, her face looked tired.

You stood awkwardly as she placed the dish with an array of others, whether made by Molly herself or by others as gestures for her loss, you didn’t know. You glanced around, nobody else seemed to be here. It occurred to you as strange with their usually being so many occupants.

Molly caught your sweeping glance and motioned for you to sit at the table. “Arthur’s in the shed, working on things helps distract him.” She started answering your unasked question. “Ginny’s with Harry visiting Bill and Fleur, Percy’s upstairs asleep I assume and Ron and Hermione have gone to Australia to find her parents.” She hesitated before continuing at my inquisitive look. “And George- he’s upstairs too.” She said it whilst avoiding my gaze and in a tone that sounded as if it caused her pain.

“Is he alright?” You knew it was stupid question before the last word uttered from your mouth but you wanted to know. He was still your boyfriend after all.

You had been dating since your 6th year when your date to the Yule ball had stood you up and George had offered to dance with you after his date had mysteriously fallen ill. (You later discovered that Fred had slipped her a puking pastille.) But George had actually been your crush for 4 years prior. In your second year when you were being taunted by another student for being in (Y/H) in the corridors, George had been close by and stood up for you and escorted you back to your common room to make sure you were okay, that’s when the feelings towards him started.

Molly looked at you with a small smile but it soon faltered as she answered your question. “He’s- been better.” She said vaguely looking towards the staircase with a frown. She turned back to you. “He’s been drinking.” Your heart sunk at the thought. He was trying to numb the pain of loss with drink. “I’ve tried-” she held back a sob as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’ve tried to stop him but he won’t listen. I don’t want to lose him too.” She said the last sentence in a voice barley above a whisper, hoping you wouldn’t hear but you did. You grabbed her hand and smiled at her the best you could.

“Can I?” You nodded your head towards the staircase. Molly nodded as you made your way over, as you climbed the first step you looked back. Molly was wiping her tears hurriedly and putting dishes into the refrigerator.

You climbed to where you knew George’s room was. You hesitated but quickly shook the thoughts of turning back around out of your head and made your way to the door. You knocked but no sound came from within. You tried again and again but nothing. You creaked the door open slightly and saw George laying on his stomach, an empty bottle of firewhisky in his limp hand. A soft snore filled the room and you sighed in relief at the sound.

You walked into the room quietly, it was dark. The curtains were drawn and you saw by a thin ray of light that there were several bottles of liquor standing on the nightstand, some looked older, others more recent. You didn’t want to look at them much longer so you turned your attention to the sleeping figure who was curled up in his bed. He almost looked peaceful as he his snores continued. You got a closer look at his face, and like Molly, he looked tired. There were deep bags under his eyes. You brushed a stray piece of messy hair out of his face and he stirred. You held your breath. You had never seen him drunk and didn’t know what to expect. You weren’t fully sure if you were ready to talk to him yet either. To your relief he did not wake but instead rolled on to his back and slept on.

Something shiny caught your eye in the dimness of the room and you looked at where George’s arm had been. You picked up the small photo frame and the smiling faces of two men looked up at you as they moved around in the picture to show the front of a bright orange store. A store that was instantly recognisable as were the men in the picture. Fred and George were grinning their trademark smirks, first at the camera and then at each other. They looked happy as they had always done when they were together.

You didn’t realise you were crying until a tear dropped onto your hand. You replaced the picture to where it been. You wiped your eyes and made to exit the room deciding to come back another time when he was more awake. Just as you reached the door, a loud crash echoed through the room. You turned and realised the bottle of firewhisky had fell from George’s hands. He woke up with a start and his eyes fell on you. He squinted in the dim light of the room.

“(Y/N)?” There was a slight slur to his speech as he looked at you and you knew now there was no escape. He switched on a light and your eyes adjusted to the brightness of it as did his.

“What’re you doing here?” George asked still squinting as the light seemed to hurt his eyes. Your heart hammered in your chest, whatever you had wanted to say flew out of your brain. You couldn’t find any words to say. He looked on at you confused.

“I-” you stammered. “I wanted to see you.” The words came out in a whisper.

George’s look of confusion turned to agitation. “Come to check I’m ‘alright’ have you?” He said gesturing air quotes to add to his sarcasm and agitated tone. He looked away from you.

You stood frozen, not knowing how to react. He was either drunk or fed up with the amount of pity he’d been receiving, perhaps a mixture of both.

“George, I-”

“Let me guess you’re sorry for my loss. You understand what I’m going through.” Sarcasm was still evident in his tone. You shook of the feeling of anger, it was the drink and the tiredness, not to mention he’s been through a lot. “Do me a favour and leave me alone.” He added nastily.

You bit back your tongue as you went to leave but a sudden and random surge of anger rose as you spotted a picture lying on the floor in front of you. In the photograph, a large group of students stood smiling.

Dumbledore’s army, the group Harry and Hermione had started in your 7th year to fight umbridge. You, Fred and George were standing side by side laughing and smiling with each other.

“You know what?” You turned and George looked taken aback at your expression and tone of voice. “No.”

You marched over, grabbed the waste bin and begun throwing bottles in it. “George Weasley you are not going to do this to yourself.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at you and looked annoyed as you took the full bottle of firewhisky that stood on the floor beside his bed and trashed it. “What the-!”

“This is not what anyone would’ve wanted, least of all Fred.” You placed the waste bin back on the floor and stared defiantly back at him as he looked ready to argue.

“And how do you know what Fred would’ve wanted?” He stared angrily at you but he still sounded slightly taken aback at your boldness.

“Maybe I don’t. But I knew him and I know you, George. And you sitting around like this, getting drunk every day isn’t helping anyone. Last year when you opened that joke shop, it brought happiness to a lot of people who were in a world of darkness. That’s what we need George. Light.” You stared into his eyes which soon avoided your steady gaze. “I’m not saying you have to start making jokes every second but we need you to be you, George.”

“But I’m nothing without him.” He mumbled sadly under his breath.

“Are you kidding, you’re George freakin’ Weasley!” You punched his arm playfully and you could’ve sworn you saw a smile play at his lips. He shook his head and looked at the picture of him and Fred. He looked back at you sadly.

“I don’t know, (Y/N).” He stared down at his lap. You were worried you’d gone too far and swore internally at yourself for being too forward.

“I’m sorry George. I’m gonna-” you gestured towards the door and made to leave.

“Wait.” You turned to see George standing up and facing you. He looked more sober than he had when he had first woken up. He looked at you hesitantly. “You’re right. I’m being an idiot.”

“I didn’t mean-” you started but was soon cut off once again.

“No I am. It’s just - it was nice not to have to feel anything.” George looked at the floor and you felt terrible. You hated seeing him like this. You grabbed his hand and moved your head to meet his downward gaze. You looked at each other briefly before he hugged you tightly.

You smiled and blushed slightly at the closeness. You both stayed locked in a silent embrace for what felt like forever before George broke the silence.

“(Y/N)?” He asked in a small voice.

“Yeah?”

“Do you still love me?” You broke the hug and stared into his brown eyes which were still red and swollen.

“Of course I do.” You smiled at him and cupped his jaw with your hands. “I have since I was 12 years old.” He smiled back and just like it always did, the sight created a small swooping sensation in your stomach.

“Really?” He gave a breathless chuckle. “Cause I’ve liked you since I was 11.” You smiled broadly before he closed the small gap between you both and kissed you sweetly.

Shortly after, you heard a call from downstairs about dinner from Molly. After a little convincing you made your way hand in hand down to the kitchen with George. Molly looked at your interlinked hands and smiled sweetly. George squeezed your hand as you both sat down at the table.

“Ginny and Harry will be along shortly.” Molly said as she served up plates of the casserole you had brought. Percy had come down for dinner and simply nodded at you in hello. He had clearly just woken up and looked pale as well as tired. Arthur had also come in from the shed and shook your hand as he sat down. He looked cheery at the food being served. You wondered briefly whether he just was putting on a brave face.  “Dig in. Dig in.” Molly said.

Ginny and Harry arrived via floo powder, a couple of minutes after you had begun eating. They were surprised to see you but gave you smiles and hugs anyway. It was a quiet dinner that might have normally been  loud and full of chatter. Ginny announced she was thinking about playing quidditch professionally and Harry said he was fully behind her in whatever she did. Everyone was pleasantly surprised when George made a joke about the double entendre. It caused an eruption of laughter around the table even from Mrs Weasley who typically disapproved of such jokes. The atmosphere seemed to become more comfortable as the evening went on.

After dinner you offered to help Molly clean up but you forgot that everything was done by magic in this house and so the plates were sent to wash themselves. She thanked you for the offer anyway. Once Ginny had roped George into a game of exploding snap and Harry, Percy and Arthur had delved into conversation in the sitting room, you were left with Molly who turned to you and smiled.

“Thank you (Y/N).”

“For what?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I just haven’t seen him that happy since -since everything happened.” She looked at where George was laughing with Ginny and smiled again.

You looked at the pair as well just as George’s gaze caught yours and he winked at you and smirked. You knew the loss of Fred would never stop hurting him but you knew you wanted to be there for him no matter what.

weasleyimaginewheezes:

Fred x Reader / Cherish

A/n Some Fred Lives!AU fluff for today because I live in an idealised world most of the time and I don’t want angst today or at least I don’t want to write much of it. If you have any battle related requests that you want posted today or tomorrow let me know and I’ll write them between writing my essay like I’m currently doing. Hoping to post some more fic today as well so yay! :) A/n

Warnings: Injury, mentions of war, tiny tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 1k+

You watched the rain pour down, hitting the window pane harshly. Luckily you were sat in the comfort of your own home watching as the unfortunate people down below ran to get back to warmth. The sound of the rain gave you the perfect background noise to reflect on the past year and how a year ago your life had changed dramatically and almost for the very worst.

May 2nd, 1998. The day that changed the wizarding world for everyone. The reign of Voldemort as well as the dark wizard himself died that day amongst many other unfortunate souls. You still had lasting scars that were not only physical but mental as well, imprinted on your brain in the worst way. Of course, you weren’t the only one; people had lost their family and friends that day including you. But you were thankful that you still had people surrounding you and that, if the war had done anything it had made everyone who fought closer together. Sure, a lot had changed in the year that had followed but then of course, some things never do.

“(y/n)!” You sighed at the sound of that familiar voice yelling your name and in your grateful mood you were thankful to still hear it. You picked yourself up from your warm and comfortable spot knowing that there wasn’t much more peace to be had now. “(y/n)!” The voice was louder and your name was drawled out much like a child’s voice.

“I’m coming down now!” You yelled in order for your voice to carry to the living area but not in an angry way. You peered in and leant against the doorframe, you smiled at the scene in front of you.

Fred was snuggled up under 3 layers of blankets including one wrapped around his shoulders and reading the daily prophet with a concentrated frown. However, once he saw you, his face lifted into a cheery smile. He sat up a bit more from his place on the sofa and patted the space next to him. You happily sat down and let him snuggle into your side like he had done so many times before. His behaviour had become frequently more cuddly after the battle, after you had both nearly lost each other.

“Did you want something?” You asked after a couple of minutes silence as you both enjoyed the warmth of the other. Fred nodded and then sat up more to look at your kind smile.

“Yes. I was wondering if you wanted a cup of tea, love?” Fred looked so happy in the way he asked that it made your smile grow. You gave him a knowing look and tilted your head to the side.

“Do you mean, you were wondering if I’d make you a cup of tea?”

“Well I mean,” Fred stuttered playfully before shrugging his shoulders and smirking. “If you’re offering? I would but with the leg and all.” He gestured to his leg which he had lost most movement in after an incident during the battle. His pyjama pants were covering the said leg but you knew it was covered in scars and marks from where the wall had fell on it. Fred had had to suffer through intensive physiotherapy to get to the point where he could use a walking stick to walk rather than a wheelchair. George tended to make old man jokes whenever he walked with it but Fred enjoyed the light-heartedness and the fact that they could still joke with each other the way they could so he didn’t mind them. He did however, miss the hijinks with his wheelchair.

“Okay.” You patted his other leg as you got up to walk to the kitchen. How could you protest when Fred looked at you the way he did, anyway? It was only a matter of time before the puppy dog eyes would have been brought out. Sometimes you liked to tease Fred and protest just so you could kiss his pouted lips. Just as you got up, Fred’s hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back, you reached out to stop yourself from falling onto him. You inquisitively rose your eyebrows as he smirked and then kissed your lips in thanks. It was a kiss, you had shared many a time with Fred but one that still managed to make your heart speed up just that little bit more. “Your welcome.” He let go and you walked away to make him a cup of tea.

It was days like this that you cherished. Days when George would give himself an excuse to go out and leave you to have the day with Fred. You never asked George to but he would be than happy to save himself from the sound of kissing all day, a joke which you had laughed at and hit him playfully for. The weather outside continued to be horrible so it gave you more of an excuse to stay inside and drink tea whilst debating mindless nonsense with your boyfriend.

At one point whilst you were debating very heavily why the best part of the chocolate frog was the card, Fred didn’t reply to your question you had asked and instead stared intently at you. This wasn’t uncommon, sometimes Fred would think about something and get lost in his own head, other times he just simply liked to stare at you. This was the latter.

“What?” You asked, at the sweet tone of your voice Fred’s dreamy stare turned into a smile. He shrugged his shoulders.

“I just love you is all.” You smiled widely from ear to ear and reached for his hand, a small blush had risen on your cheeks. Fred relished in the thought that even after you’ve known each for so long and knew practically everything there was to know, he could still make you blush in the way he could.

“Aww, Freddie.” You moved closer to him on the sofa until your lips just brushed against his, you heard his breath catch ever so slightly and smirked. “I love you too.” And then you kissed him, sweetly at first and then more passionately until you were both gasping and pulling away for some much-needed air. Fred’s hands were now cupping your jaw and your arms were snaked around his shoulders. He nuzzled your nose cutely before pecking your lips, all which made you smile more. Fred’s smiling face faltered as he begun to think about something and you pulled back to ask him without saying a word what he was thinking about. You didn’t want to push him into telling you anything but at the same time you were curious.

He eventually caught your questioning gaze and tried to lighten his frowning expression. You reached out to connect your hands again to reassure him and he smiled at the touch, all be it a little half-heartedly. “A year ago.” His voice was quiet, you didn’t have to ask what he meant because you knew. You nodded with a small thoughtful sigh.

“Yeah, weird, isn’t it?” Fred nodded back at your question and then furrowed his brow as though the next words pained him.

“A year ago, I almost…” His voice trailed off, his breath shortening at the thought of what almost happened and again you didn’t have to ask. You squeezed his hand tightly to remind him that he was still here. He nodded surely and looked down at where your hand was held in his own. He stroked your knuckles and gulped. “I don’t think I’ve ever properly said thank you.” His eyes locked onto your own again and you shook your head at his words.

“Fred, you don’t have to say anything. You’re my boyfriend and I’m always gonna be here for you.” You smiled at him, melting at the sight of his brown coloured eyes lifting again with a smile.

“Yeah but you didn’t have to. You and Georgie have been amazing especially when I couldn’t do something myself and I never thanked you, either of you.” You smiled at his sincerity and sappiness, the latter of which was rare from Fred at the best of times. “So, thank you.” He nodded his head in an almost bowing like manner and you laughed before kissing him again and again and again all over his face until you lost track of the amount and kissed him fully. Fred parted briefly to mumble, “I’ll tell George later.” He spoke the last two words as your lips connected again making you laugh.

“Aww, look at you two lovebirds.” George’s voice was the thing that pulled you away from Fred, simply so you could glare playfully at the younger twin as he entered. Fred did the same and told George to go away but not as nicely as you might have told him to. George just laughed and grabbed some food from the kitchen with a wink before he left with a warning that he was right upstairs.

You laughed at George’s humour before settling back to cuddle into Fred’s side, your hand still intertwined with his. You picked up the abandoned newspaper from the coffee table and began to make fun of the headlines which were much less dramatic these days. Fred joined in and soon enough you were both howling with laughter. George came cautiously down the stairs an hour later, to find the both of you soundly asleep, snuggled up to each other with small smiles on your faces. 

weasleyimaginewheezes:

George x reader / A dream is a wish your heart makes

A/N Titles obviously comes from Cinderella ❤️ final George x reader story for a while, I’ll try and do some more stuff. Please request/send prompts. Involves angst and fluff. Warnings for grief. This was so cute to write. I kind of got the idea from Gilmore girls with Luke’s dark day and everything. A/N

(Y/W/J) = Your wizarding job

All day wizards of all kinds along with knowing muggles had been toasting and celebrating. You enjoyed hearing the cheers as you walked past but knew that not everyone would be joining in the celebrations.

Yes, 5 years ago had been the downfall of one of the most evilest wizards in history but it had also been the day that many had fallen in the battle including one of your best friends, Fred Weasley who was also you’re husband’s twin brother.

It was a rough day. It seemed to be that as soon as George realised what day it was, he shut off from the world.

It hurt you to see him this way but there was no way you could pull him out of it as much as you tried. So you left him the day to grieve. Occasionally it would turn in to a majority of the week and you accepted it.

This was one of those times. You had rarely seen him leave the bedroom all week, he hadn’t shaved and he only really wore his pyjamas.

So when you came home to see your husband laid flat out on the sofa, you smiled sadly and went to kneel next to him.

You stroked his messy hair. “Georgie.” You whispered loud enough for him to hear. You hated to wake him but he needed to eat and you had your suspicions that he hadn’t yet today. He stirred and slowly blinked his eyes open whilst yawning a little. He saw your smiling face and his lips twitched slightly.

“I brought back pizza.” His smile got a little bigger as you showed him the large box. He sat up and took a slice as you sat with him. He shared the blanket that was over him and rested his head on your shoulder. Silence filled the house but it was a usual silence, not awkward or uncomfortable- just there.

You stroked your husband’s hair as he ate, smiling at the thought of how lucky you are.

George ate a couple of slices before brushing his hands on his pyjamas. More silence settled between you until it was broke by a small sob. You felt George shake next to you and moved to look at him, still stroking his hair. You looked at him sadly. Tears were pouring down his face and it broke your heart. You kissed away some of his tears, having an idea of what or who was going through his mind.

You got up and took his hand which was trying to wipe away his tears. Without a word between you, you led him to the bedroom. He laid down and you joined him. He cuddled into your side out of comfort and you thought about how not many people saw this vulnerable side to him, how many saw his tough confident and jokey exterior. It all just made you love him more because you knew he trusted you, the same as you trusted him with your life.

Your hand found his hair again, stroking it once more absentmindedly. He closed his eyes and calmed his breathing as he relaxed, his sobs subsiding. You began to hum a small tune, you knew from growing up and that had always made you feel better.

George had grown accustomed to your muggle taste in music and movies. He knew you loved Disney as that’s what you typically sang to him and just generally around the house. But he knew Cinderella was your all time favourite, he always put the movie on when your were sick and always made sure to treat you like the princess that she was because to him that’s what you were.

“A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you’re fast asleep.” George smiled into your shoulder and sighed happily. You sang softly into his ear, nuzzling it slightly.

“In dreams you will lose your heartaches, whatever you wish for you keep.” You feel George begin to sleep and smiled once more as you sang. “Have faith in your dreams and someday your rainbow will come smiling through.” The line prompted you to think of Fred and George’s dream of a joke shop and how it was and still is a roaring success. You thought about your own dream of becoming a (Y/W/J) and how George had supported you through it all. You were there for each other and that would never ever change.

“No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, that dream that you wish will come true.” As you sang the last line, you felt a feeling of contempt in your heart at being able to be this man’s wife from now till forever. And just as silence filled the house once more and you drifted off to sleep, you heard George sleepily say something into your neck. You were surprised thinking he had been sleeping.

“I love you (y/n).” You couldn’t help but smile broadly as you replied to him.

“I love you too Georgie.” You whispered it to him, words just for him and you felt him smile into your neck as he went back to sleep.

And although they were the only 4 words he had spoken to you all day, it didn’t matter because they still brought the same racing, butterfly feeling that you had felt all those years ago when you sat across from him in the three broomsticks as a young student.

And that’s all that mattered between the two of you. As long as there was an unconditional love, it didn’t matter what happened or what you each went through because you had the best husband in the world.

Also reblogging some Georgie fic for today but this one is a lot angstier with some cuteness in it

I was just reminded that today is the 21st anniversary of the battle of Hogwarts and Fred’s death. I’m not okay

24 years ago, some may think it’s fictional but it’s just as painful as everything else in this beautiful magical fandom ♥️

Here we are once again, May 2nd, remembering them all

Inktober day 24 - Extinct

Fred and George are among my favorite characters of the series, so *that* scene from the Battle of Hogwarts was very hard to read

Battle of Hogwarts + coming out prompt: “How long?”

Mrs Weasley hit her eldest son on the arm giving him a harsh look, but now everyone was looking at him.

Oliver hadn’t thought. As soon as he heard which ward Percy had been put in, he had apparated to St Mungo. He didn’t prepare himself to be faced with the whole Weasley clan who had heard where Percy was found and were able to tell he was there as something more than a friend.

Percy was currently being checked up so the eight Weasleys and Oliver were standing out of the door waiting for the signal they could go in. It had been an awful awkward silence until Bill spoke up. Full on my ao3