April had been the time of your life - if you can say that during a war - and it could not even be compared to the previous eight months that you had spent at Shell Cottage. You had celebrated the twins’ birthday, then Lupin had come to announce the news about his newborn son. The whole month had been as though there was no war outside; you had lived in your own bubble, accompanied by George and the Weasleys and you could not had been happier.
It all happened so fast.
May had arrived, and with it the radio was shouting the news about Harry Potter who had broken into Gringotts with two of his accomplices, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Mrs Weasley had been so nervous she broke two plates during cooking; Mr Weasley had been carefully listening to the radio the whole day, waiting for any information that would reassure him that his son was all right.
Then the news came. New weather report: Lightning has struck.
It was almost as if you had been waiting for this for years now, and it was finally happening. All the Weasleys got ready, apparated to Aberforth’s place, met up with Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley and the rest of the Order. After you made your way through the tunnel and reached the Room, there was no turning back.
It all happened so fast.
And now you were marching down the stairs towards the Great Hall, and your heart was aching by the sight of the familiar corridors and hallways. You remembered those times, those lovely, peaceful times when you had been a student and you had had nothing to worry about but your exams. Those beautiful afternoons by the lake, those calm nights in the common room. And then here you were, wand in hand, ready to fight for your friends, for your loved ones, but most importantly for yourself. Because you knew that this was it.
Yes, it happened so fast.
But you had been waiting for a long time.
“Are you okay?” asked George hastily as you made your last turn down the staircase, following Kingsley.
“I’m ready,” you said and you knew he understood.
You reached the Entrance Hall and Kingsley turned to you. His low voice resonated through the room.
“I put all my faith in the best thing. You.”
Then he pushed open the huge wooden doors.
You followed him inside, taking in the scene, Harry shouting in the middle, Snape staring at him from across the hall. All around them the whole school was watching.
“How dare you stand where he stood? Tell them how it happened that night! Tell them how you looked him in the eye, a man who trusted you, and killed him! Tell them!”
Snape drew his wand, but McGonagall immediately stepped in, pushing Harry aside. You felt a hand on your arm, pulling you further away from the duelling pair. Then McGonagall won; Snape gave up and flee through the window.
“Coward!” her voice was muffled by the loud cheers of students. “Coward!”
Then a sharp pain, worse than you had ever had struck through your head and you stumbled.
“Y/N!” Fred got ahold of you, helping you stay standing. “Are you…”
Someone screamed but it felt like it was coming from inside your head. You couldn’t bare it, you wanted it to stop, you couldn’t breathe… Then an ice-cold voice spoke, a voice that you had never heard before but it made you feel more afraid, more desperate than anything in this world.
“I know that many of you will want to fight… Some of you may even think that to fight is wise… But this is folly… Give me Harry Potter… Do this and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have one hour.”
Your hand was shaking as you brushed your hair out of your face. What were you doing? What were you doing?! Your eyes met with George’s and suddenly you were not ready… Suddenly you didn’t want this… You wanted to go back to safety, back to Muriel’s and stay there for the rest of your life.
“What are you waiting for?” Pansy Parkinson’s voice dragged you back to reality. She was pointing at Harry. “Someone grab him!”
Somehow anger took over your fear and your mouth dropped, outraged. You were not the only one; within seconds thirty or so people joined Harry, shielding him from Slytherins.
“Students out of bed!” Filch’s voice made you jump. “Students out of bed!”
“They are supposed to be out of bed you blithering idiot!” snarled McGonagall. “And Mr Filch, I would like you, please, to lead Miss Parkinson and the rest of Slytherin House from the hall. The dungeons would do.”
Cheers erupted as Filch started to lead the students. Kingsley hurried towards, giving out orders and requesting people to take positions.
“… need somebody to organise defence of the entrances of the passageways into the school.”
“Sounds like a job for us,” said Fred at once and you agreed. Kingsley approved and waved you away.
“Good. Hurry up, you heard him. We don’t have much time till midnight.”
You turned away, heading for the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall. Around you people were running up and down, pushing each other, calling for lost friends and siblings.
“I’ll take the tunnel that leads to Honeydukes,” called Fred, shouting over the huddling students.
“All right,” said George, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “Take a few people with you. I”ll take the one on the sixth floor, you know behind that ugly statue that looks like…”
“Snape, yeah, by the size of his nose,” grinned Fred. George chuckled, then his face darkened and he turned to you in realization.
“Stay with me.”
Your eyes fell on his missing ear, and you remembered how you felt that night, thinking the unthinkable, fearing the impossible… Yes, you wanted to follow him, you wanted to go where he was going, you wanted to make sure that he was all right, because… because you were scared, more scared than ever before, and you couldn’t bare even the thought of loosing him…
“No,” you said finally, going against your heart’s desire. “No, I’ll go up to the fifth. I always used that one when I wanted to get down to Hogsmeade.”
“No, Y/N,” George started. You cut him off, hoping that your voice was more stern than how you actually felt.
“We need to cover a lot of ground,” you said. “They might be coming from all over the place, we can’t risk it…”
“She’s right,” said Fred, answering George’s ask for help. He looked into his brother’s eyes, his voice confident. “Come on… She’s gonna be okay.”
“I’m gonna be okay,” you said, too. George seemed to be in anguish. He looked like he was fighting for air, looking at you and Fred in turns. Then he seemed to make a decision against his better judgement.
“Fuck! Come here,” he pulled you to him, kissing you with everything he had, not letting you go for at least a minute. When he did, he nodded. “Okay. Go then.”
“Okay,” you said, too. “Okay. George, I love —”
“No!” he said sharply. “I don’t wanna hear it!”
You cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. You knew he was scared to say goodbyes but you wanted to do it anyway… just in case.
“I love you,” you spoke loud and clearly. Then you let him go and turned to Fred. “And I love you, too.”
He opened his arms and hugged you, and you hugged him, too, until both of you felt that you couldn’t stretch out the moment any longer, because your time was up and all three of you needed to be somewhere else, someplace where the others could not follow.
“See you later, okay?” Fred said, giving you one last kiss on your cheek. “Now get out of here.”
You nodded, then looked behind you, where a bunch of people stood, waiting.
“Anyone who’s here to defend the entrances, choose groups!” you shouted. “I need two people.”
The Patil twins were the first ones to step forward. You indicated towards the stairs.
“All right. Let’s go!”
You left the others behind, running, with Parvati and Padma following you, your heart beating in your throat. You tried not to think about George, not to think about Fred, because right now you needed to focus, you needed to get ready to fight. You made your way through a couple of first year boys and looked at your watch. It was ten minutes until midnight.
The further you got from the Entrance Hall, the fewer people you met. Everyone was clearly spreading out in the castle, making sure that every corner was well defended. After you left the fourth floor, there was no one besides the three of you, and you could only hear muffled buzzing from the other parts of the building. You ran up on the last staircase leading to the fifth floor, and then you saw it, the old carpet under which lay the loose floorboard that led out of the castle. You stopped, wand in your hand.
“This is it,” you said, turning to the other two. Padma stepped to the window, her face nervous.
“I can see them,” she said. “Over the hill, I…”
“Let’s just cast some spells over the entrance,” you said quickly, deciding that you didn’t want to see the army outside. “Come, help me.”
You pulled aside the carpet, revealing the wooden planks amongst the stone tiles. You glanced at your watch every second, more anxious by the minute. You placed detective spells over the tunnel that would tell you immediately if someone was coming. Parvati and Padma got several tables from a nearby classroom and built a mediocre barricade from them. You stood behind it, your ears sharp, your hands shaking, your eyes fixed on the entrance in nervous anticipation.
Then there was a loud bang and lights like a thousand firework hit the shield over the castle. You didn’t need to look at your watch anymore. It was midnight.
It went on for several minutes, and with each blow you thought that that was it, the defence crumbled, you were going to get hit and killed… but the castle was holding on, and the whole school seemed to fall into silence, waiting.
But then a blow, louder and stronger than any of the previous ones made the whole castle shake, and you stumbled, grabbing the leg of a table, and the floor was shaking, and the walls were trembling and you heard people screaming from all around the castle, and you saw the last pieces of the protective dome over Hogwarts falling onto the ground. Black stripes of smoke were heading in your direction. You raised your wand, people’s distant screams still echoing in your ear, and you feared that you were going to faint and suddenly your mind was empty and you couldn’t remember a single spell to use…
“Impedimenta!” screamed Padma and the first Death Eater fell backwards and out of the window. But there was more, three, seven, fifteen were coming…
A green light hit your barricade of tables and all three of you fell onto the floor, your hands over your head, someone screaming. You heard footsteps coming, and suddenly you were awake, adrenaline pumping through you and you jumped to your feet and stunned an approaching hooded man. Parvati appeared next to you, sending a Body-Bind Curse towards another man. She missed, but the Death Eater was forced to find cover from Padma’s curse. You heard yells and a painful moan, and you used the opportunity to peak from behind the remains of your shelter.
You saw Death Eaters running down the stairs on the other side of the hallway, but there was four that remained there to fight. One of them was dragging his stunned mate on the floor, so you stunned him as well.
“Let’s make the little rats come out of the hole!” you heard one of the man roar and then you were flying backwards, hitting the ground hard and you heard a crack but did not feel pain, for there was no time to feel pain. You stood up, seeing the approaching Death Eater and screamed ‘Stupefy!’ but he blocked it, his face stuck in an evil smile. You could not see either Parvati or Padma but from the corner of your eyes you saw lights in all different colors hitting each other and you heard shouts and cries from all over the place.
“Stupefy!” you screamed again, but missed. “Impedimenta!”
You hit a column and it crumbled, burying the man under itself. Dust and smoke reached your throat, choking you on the spot, and you fell onto your knees, desperately trying to breathe. You looked up, your stomach sick and you saw fire, fire you had no idea where it came from, eating up the hallway, burning the carpit and the paintings on the wall.
“Aguamenti!”
Water burst out of your wand and somehow you managed to stand up, fresh air releasing the knot in your lungs and you looked aside and saw that half of the hallway was blown open, its walls ruined, a huge opening providing a view to the grounds outside. And you saw in the distance people running, screaming, red, purple, orange, green lights flickering; you looked around and you didn’t see either Padma or Parvati but you saw a bunch of new faces and you realized that the fight had reached you. You glanced towards the secret passageway and it was torn open, several hooded figures were climbing out of it, and you ran, as fast as you had never run before.
“Impedimenta!” you shouted and you hit a crouching woman into the face. The man following her growled and sent a green light at you that missed your head by inches.
“Come on, you little prat, dance for me!” he screeched, casting a spell that you jumped away from. “You don’t like that, do you? Crucio!”
Air got stuck in your lungs and you felt pain that could not be compared to anything you had ever experienced… and you screamed in agony, and you wished it was over, you wished everything was over and you wriggled on the floor, desperate for death, hoping that it would come because you were sure even death was better than this pain.
“NO!” you heard a cry and the pain stopped but you couldn’t move. “Are you okay?”
You felt a hand on your shoulder and looking up you saw Cho, her hair messed up, her face black from the dust. You nodded, your legs shaking as you stood up, and your hand flew over your ribs in pain, remembering that some of your bones might had been broken. Around you the scene had changed within those few minutes you spent fighting; you could barely make difference between friends and enemies in the chaos.
“Come!” said Cho, pulling you away from the entrance of the passageway, then turning around and shouting, “Reducto!”
The floor beneath you shook and you saw the passageway falling in, blown up, sealing the entrance so that no living thing could come through it again. You stood, panting, holding onto that thin stick in your hand, and you were not thinking anymore, you were only acting, and you made a run for it, squeaking with every breath you took, but fighting, sending curses at every hooded figure you saw, loosing track of time, but holding on, because there was no other way to end this than to fight.
A high pitched whisper echoed in the castle, and you grabbed your head again, wincing at the sound that felt like it was coming from inside your skull.
“You have fought valiantly but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Harry Potter, now I speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me.”
The voice stopped and you looked around; you stood facing Death Eaters by the dozen. They stood staring, some of them bleeding, some of them grimacing wickedly. Then, almost as if they were one entity, they burst into black stripes of smoke again, fleeing the castle.
The silence was deafening. After the explosions and screams everything seemed sinister, and now, that the adrenaline was leaving your body could you really focus on your fears again. You wondered…
“Help! Someone… Help me!”
You turned your head and saw a Ravenclaw boy lifting a body from the ground. You stumbled to him, stepping over fallen pieces of stones and rocks, and looked at the body, scared to recognise anyone familiar.
“Help!” pleaded the boy again, tears cleaning the dust off his face. “Please.”
You grabbed the leg of the girl he was holding and together you lifted her up. You felt numb. You didn’t want to think about the fact that the person in your hands was not a person anymore.
“We take everyone in the Great Hall,” you heard someone speak. “This way, come on.”
It seemed like hours had passed by the time the Entrance Hall finally came into sight. On your way down more and more people joined you, some carrying bodies, some limping, some holding a wound that was still bleeding. You kept looking around, forcing yourself not to cry, not to panic just yet. There were still a lot of people coming.
You reached the Great Hall and layed the body of the girl next to the wall, beside many many more. Your throat closed by the sight of the many lying on the floor, not moving, still. You took sudden gulps of air. You were panicking now.
You walked on, desperately looking, but there were so many people that you couldn’t see a thing. But then you saw a family, a family with ginger hair huddled together and you started walking as fast as your broken ribs let you.
“George!” you screeched. “George!”
He raised his head in anguish, but as he saw you he left everyone behind and ran, literally crashing against your body, sobbing, and you soothed his hair and whispered:
“It’s okay… I’m —”
You fell silent, seeing the pair of legs on the floor. You stood there, your mind not able to process what you were seeing. You let go of George, getting closer, and now you recognised the sneakers on those feet.
No. No, no, no, no, no. No.
Ginny stepped aside and your eyes fell on Fred, his face still and pale. Your mouth fell open, wether to moan or to scream you didn’t know. You felt a hand on your shoulder, had no idea who it was. You were staring at the lifeless body, and you stumbled over and fell onto your knees next to him, your sight blurry. Someone screamed, or maybe it was you, then you reached for his hand and it was cold, and a cry of agony escaped your lips as you started sobbing, shaking your head in denial, unable to speak. Pain was shattering your insides, it was torturing your soul and you wanted it to end, and you didn’t want to look at him anymore but you were still unable to turn your head away.
George came into view on the other side of him, and you had never seen his face so ugly, so deformed, in so much pain. His eyes met yours and you saw your own pain in them, the pain that was eating both of you up like a desease… you held out your other hand to him, and he grasped it desperately, and now you were holding one warm and one ice-cold hand…
You wanted to believe that it was not true. You were barely able to see from your tears. His eyes were closed, his lips curled even in his sleep, almost as if they resembled the great jokester he was. You let go of his hand but only to touch his cheek, gently, lovingly, then you leaned closer, saying your goodbyes with one last trembling kiss.
His cold skin burned your lips and you were not in control of yourself anymore. Still grasping George’s hand, you lay your head onto Fred’s chest, and you realized with great torment that his heart was not beating. You stayed there, listening to the silence, closing your eyes and crying, for God knows how long.
Hours had passed as you lay there, drowning in grief. Around you people were sobbing with loud chuckles, but you felt so far away from them; you were up in the Gryffindor common room, laughing about who knows what with the twins, so much younger, so much more innocent, and you didn’t open your eyes because laughing was reality, and blood and death wasn’t, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be, because that would mean that Fred was gone.
Your eyes hurt from the salt, and you started blinking heavily. Your ribs ached with every breath, and you were sure that Madam Pomfrey could heal you within a minute; but if it meant leaving Fred behind for even a second, then you did not want to be cured. Through the windows you saw the night slowly fading away, and not long after that you heard the crowd around you buzzing.
“It’s him, he’s coming!”
“They’re back, they’re here!”
“Who is he holding?”
“Who is that?”
You raised your head, alarmed, but not quite understanding what was happening. People seemed to look out the windows, their faces in shock and fear.
“What’s happening?” asked Ginny, her voice crooked. You saw Ron and Hermione look at each other.
“It’s him, he’s here!”
With enormous effort you stood up, your nervousness stronger than your grief. Grabbing your wand you joined the crowd swarming outside the Great Hall, stopping between the ruins of the courtyard. Approaching, you saw him, for the first time in your life, You-Know-Who himself.
He was accompanied by his many Death Eaters, his snake, and Hagrid, who seemed to be…
“Who is that Hagrid’s carrying?” asked Ginny. “Neville, who is it?”
Then you heard the screeching sound.
“Harry Potter is dead!”
“No!” screamed Ginny. “NO!”
“Silence! Stupid girl!” he laughed, his servants joining in. “Harry Potter is dead!”
You felt every last drop of hope leaving your body. While You-Know-Who… Voldemort was speaking, you were zoning out, staring at the body in Hagrid’s hand. It didn’t matter anymore. You were a muggleborn. Your faith was sealed. Maybe death would stop this miserable pain…
Then Neville started limping forwards, an ugly old hat in his hand.
“It doesn’t matter Harry’s gone.”
“Stand down, Neville.”
“People die every day! Friends, family. Yeah, we lost Harry tonight. But he’s still with us, in here. So’s Fred… Remus… Tonks. All of them. They didn’t die in vain. But you will! Because you’re wrong! Harry’s heart did beat for us! For all of us! This is not over!”
He pulled a long sword out of the hat, his face angry and determined, but your eyes fell on Harry, who jerked himself from Hagrid’s arms, stood up, very much alive and shot a blaze of fire at the snake.
It was as though the whole school came alive, and suddenly you were running, shooting spells at every hooded figure who approached you and you were in the Great Hall again, fighting like never before, with a new kind of aspiration in your heart. You remembered something from the past, McGonagall claiming that there won’t be duelling in the Great Hall while she was a teacher here… Oh, how times had changed, you thought, as you were duelling very much so.
And then he came across you, the man you loathed and feared. He growled, his pointy teeth showing in his bloodstained mouth. Fenrir Greyback licked his lips, and you saw hunger in his eyes.
“Stupefy!” you shouted and he blocked it; then it was his turn and you ducked from the green light. “Impedimenta!”
He blocked the curse again, though stumbling under its force. You got on your feet, your ribs hurting immensely. He shot curses at you and you blocked them, one after the other, though you barely had time to fight back.
“This is it, precious,” he howled. “Oh, I remember you and your friends… what d’you think, they let me have the ginger one after we finish here?”
Fresh, hot rage ignited in you, and finally you reached a point from where there was no coming back.
“Avada Kedavra!”
Your curse hit the werewolf in the middle of his chest and he fell backwards, his face stuck in surprise, hitting the floor with a thud. You spared him one last disgusted look, then joined the others, just in time to hear Mrs Weasley yell:
“Not my daughter you bitch!”
George appeared next to you, pulling you away from his mother. Bellatrix laughed but not for long; she was blown into pieces, ceased to exist.
Voldemort was raging on the other side of the hall, seeing how his most loyal servant was finished. But then there was Harry and the fight stopped, for there was no one else but Voldemort left… and the sun was shining bright now, and you were watching the pair of them, talking about wands and lies, and you didn’t understand a thing, but it didn’t matter…
And then both of them cried out their curses… he fell onto the floor… and it was over.
Loud screaming and cheering broke out in the Great Hall and you were caught up in the hundreds embracing Harry, and you turned around, your eyes meeting George’s and he was dirty, puffy eyed, one-eared, and you jumped into his arms and kissed him, because it was over, you were free, and from now on you could love whoever you wanted, you could marry whoever you wished and you could continue your life where you had left off…
When the first wave of cheer ended, you pulled George aside, joining up with the Weasleys again. They welcomed you with hugs, laughter and cries, and eventually you settled down onto the benches, not far from where Fred lay. Your mood was switching from happiness to grief, and you were tired, so tired that you wished to sleep for days. You locked eyes with Ginny, her head resting on her mother’s shoulder, and you saw that Mrs Weasley was crying again.
“Do you know…” started Mr Weasley, looking as though he was not sure he wanted to ask the question. His voice was higher than usual. “Do you know who… who was it?”
“Rookwood,” said Ron, his lips trembling. Next to him Hermione was tearing up.
“But you got him, right Perce?” said Mr Weasley, his voice shaking. Percy nodded.
“I’ve never liked him,” he said. His voice cracked. “But now it was personal.”
“D’you mean…” you said hoarsly. “D’you mean Percy-nal?”
You heard George’s tired chuckle next to you and you turned to him. One second of his gaze was enough to see how much agony he was in… and his eyes were so like his brother’s, whose eyes, you knew, would never meet yours again.
March came and you were drifting. Tiredness came all over you; it was like a heavy blanket, covering your whole body, pinning you down so that you were unable to move. You couldn’t sleep but kept your eyes closed anyway - it was easier that way. Your slow breathing was the only noise in the room, and you could still smell the untouched food that Fleur had left on the table the night before.
You were exhausted. You felt emptyness inside, a hole in your chest. Every time you breathed you felt as though air was coursing through you but did not fill the gap inside. It was a hollow feeling.
You were in pain. Your head, your eyes, your limbs, everything. Every time you were uncomfortable, it took you loads of effort to turn around in the bed. Sometimes you just lay still, your body aching. You didn’t need to favour your body. You didn’t use it for anything. All those organs inside, they kept you alive. That was it.
Yes, you were alive. But you were not living.
Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. All that thinking, all that anxiety kept you up. You heard continuous buzzing from around the room, but at the same time it seemed as though the buzzing was inside your head. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to do something. Anything.
With a muffled groan, you got out of bed. Not wanting to wake up Bill or Fleur, you opened the door as quietly as you could and you made your way downstairs to the kitchen. It was still really early; the sun had not come up yet.
Darkness welcomed you as you sat down to the table with a cup of hot tea in your hands. You were drinking in silence and when you finished you took your cup to the dishwasher to clean it. That was when you heard the noise.
You jerked your head towards the window after hearing the sound of apparition. You saw people moving not far from the water, then someone disapparated. It was too dark to recognise them; you took out your wand and shouted.
“Bill! Fleur!”
They didn’t hear it. Keeping your eyes on the arriving people, you shouted again.
“BILL! FLEUR!”
Their door flung open and they rushed down the stairs, wand in their hands.
“What is it?” asked Bill. “What happened?”
“There are people here, I… I don’t know who.”
He looked through the window then immediately hurried out into the garden. You and Fleur followed.
“Stop where you are!” Bill yelled when you reached the stumbling people. The light of his wand illuminated their faces. “Who —”
“Help!” came a weak shout. The voice sounded familiar. “Help, please!”
“Dean?” you said and started walking towards the three people. You couldn’t believe your eyes. “Oh, my God, Dean!”
“Y/N?” said the boy in disbelief. “Y/N, is that you?”
He was kneeling in the sand, not far from Luna and an old, skeleton-like man who you recognised to be Ollivander. Bill got ahold of Dean and helped him stand up.
“What happened?” he asked with distress on his scarred face. Fleur helped Ollivander towards the house. “What is this?”
“Ron told us to come here,” said Luna who seemed to be fine, just a little dirty. “I hope it’s all right.”
“Ron?” echoed Bill, alarmed. “When did you —?”
“They got them,” said Dean who was shaking. “They got us, too, but an elf appeared and…”
“Got you?” you asked in a high voice. “Who?”
“Snatchers. But they took us somewhere… Malfoy was there, too.”
“Malfoy?” asked Bill and looked at you. You both knew what this meant. Death Eaters.
“Where’s Ron?” you asked, your stomach clenched. “And what about…”
You couldn’t finish, for a new group of people appeared about twenty metres from you. One of them had fiery ginger hair and looked as though he was holding someone, someone who looked like…
“Hermione,” you whispered. “Oh, my God!”
“Y/N, take Luna and Dean into the house,” said Bill and he hurried towards the newcomers.
“Come,” you said, still staring at the others. You recognised someone else, with dark hair and glasses. “What happened?”
“It’s really hard to explain,” said Luna. “They put me in that cellar a long time ago, but Dean just arrived.”
“They caught us, me for being muggleborn and Griphook for what he is. Then they found Harry, Ron and Hermione. They only decided after that to take us to the Malfoys.”
“But how did you get here?”
“A house elf appeared. He brought us here.”
You nodded, unable to say anything else. You led Luna and Dean into the house, where they stopped awkwardly, both of them looking dirty and muddy.
“Come,” indicated Fleur. “Eet eez all right.”
You barely closed the door when Bill opened it again, followed by Ron and Hermione. Your mouth opened by the sight of them.
“What the…”
“I need to go,” said Bill to Fleur. “They know Ron’s not sick. They know we lied. We need to evacuate the Burrow, now. They might be coming for them as we speak.”
You took a sudden gulp of air.
“What about the shop?” you squeeked. “What about George and Fred?”
“I’ll get them,” said Bill firmly. “Don’t worry. We might still have time.”
Then he ran out into the garden and disapparated. Your eyes met with Fleur’s. Your own nervousness reflected on her face.
“Where’s Ollivander?” you asked, just to say something.
“‘e eez upstairs. ‘e eez really weak.”
She walked over to check on Hermione who was holding on to Ron’s jacket, shivering.
“I make some tea,” you said and walked into the kitchen. Through the window you could see Harry, digging in the sand. Next to him lied a very small body.
You winced and blinked to clear your eyes. So that was it. Bill had talked about it many times, about how dangerous and unstable the whole situation was in the first place. If the Ministry knew that Ron was with Harry, in hiding, they would immediately assume that the whole Weasley family had been helping the Undesirable Number One. By having that disgusting ghoul pretending to be him, Ron had had an alibi. But now the secret was out. And everyone you loved was in danger again.
Your hands started to shake as you filled the cattle with water and put it on the stove. You kept looking out the window, hoping to see Bill return. What were the chances that he was faster than the Death Eaters? Could he get to the Burrow and to the shop as well? Was everyone all right, or was it taking Bill this long because something was wrong?
When the tea was ready, you put some cups on a tray and walked back to the living room. The first thing you saw was Ron stroking Hermone’s hair. You quickly looked away, for it had made you feel a certain kind of longing. You put the tray onto the table, offering it to Dean and Luna. On the sofa, Fleur was sitting, anxiously glancing towards the door every second.
It took thirty more minutes for Bill to return, which meant thirty more minutes of anxiety for you. When he finally opened the door again, he looked nervous, but pleased.
“They’re okay,” he said, looking at you and Ron. “All of them. I moved them to Muriel’s. They’re protected by the Fidelius charm. They can’t leave the house, but well… They’re safe now.”
“Oh,” Fleur crossed the room and hugged his husband. Bill kissed her forehead, then stepped away from her, facing you.
“I can take you there if you want to go.”
“What?” you said in disbelief. “What are you saying?”
“It’s the same thing as staying here. We’re all hiding now. So if you want, I can take you. Permanently.”
“Are you for real?” you asked, standing up. Bill let go of Fleur and nodded.
“I know how much you miss them.”
“Thank you!” you said. “Thank you! When are we —”
“Now. As soon as we can.”
You nodded and ran up to your room, realizing that you were still wearing your pajamas. You quickly changed, then waved your wand, stuffing everything into your trunk. You were ready in three minutes; then you grabbed your luggage and pulled it down the stairs with loud thumps. Bill was waiting for you in the living room.
“I’m ready,” you said with dry throat.
“Good. I’ve sent a patronus, dad says they’re waiting for you.
He kissed Fleur again, then took your trunk and led you out into the garden. In the distance, Harry was still digging.
“Ready?” said Bill as you reached the border. You turned around and looked at the house. You felt happy to leave this place, but you were sorry for never learning to appreciate its true beauty. Now that it wasn’t your prison, you could really see its natural charm.
“I’m ready,” you said, and stepped over the border.
“Let’s go, then.”
He offered you his hand and you took it. The salty air disappeared and immediately came the well-known feeling of twisting and turning. Then it was over and you smelled freshly cut grass and dew instead. You opened your eyes. You didn’t see anything but a meadow under the dark sky. The morning here was still yet to come.
“Here!” you heard a voice and turned immediately to saw Mr Weasley waving. “Quickly.”
You hurried to him and he gave you a hug that took you by surprise, but at the same time felt really nice. He took your luggage from Bill and took out a piece of paper from his pocket.
“Bill,” you said quickly. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Don’t mention it, Y/N. You’re family.”
He squeezed your shoulder with a kind smile, then turned around and he was gone. Mr Weasley lit his wand and pushed the parchment under your nose.
“Read it, now, quickly.”
You read the short text with the address and looked up. In front of you a huge garden appeared with a fountain and a stone path to an enormous house. Mr Weasley raised his wand, looking around, then burned the piece of paper.
“All clear. Let’s go.”
You stepped over the border, your heart beating really fast. You started walking, being more excited with each step. Then a door burst open with a huge bang and you saw a tall figure running towards you.
“Oh, my God,” you said and ran, too. You fell into his arms like never before, letting all the happiness take you, coursing through you, curing you, tending to the wounds that had been invisible… And you hugged him, kissed him, caressed him, and you laughed in relief and knowing that better times will come…
“Hey,” he said finally, pulling you as close as it was physically possible. “Hey, baby…” he peppered you with kisses from cheek to cheek, on your forehead, on your lips, on your jaw and you could tell that he knew that everything was going to be different now.
“Are you all right?” you said finally, staying so close that your noses were touching. “Is everyone…”
“Everyone’s okay,” said George, kissing you again. “Bill was fast, we all arrived within ten minutes or so. The others are inside.”
Mr Weasley walked past you with your luggage.
“Come inside, both of you. It’s better to…”
“Dear God!” he was interrupted by Mrs Weasley’s yells. She was running towards you, her face pure relief. She pulled you away from George, but hugging you just the same. “Y/N… Oh, dear, let me… come in, come inside, I’ll make you something to eat…”
“Mum, let her breathe,” said a cheeky voice from behind her. You looked and saw your second favorite person in the whole wide world. He beamed. “Well, look who —”
You cut him off, hugging him, and he fell silent, his hands on your back, his face buried into your shoulder. You missed him so much and you could tell that he missed you, too.
“How are you?” he asked after letting you go.
“So much better, now,” you said, smiling. A hand appeared on your waist, pulling you close.
“Let’s go inside,” said George.
“Yeah, Mum’s clearly dying to feed you,” said Fred.
He got a light hit from Mrs Weasley on his shoulder and he laughed. The three of you followed her into the house; on the way George intertwined his fingers with yours and stayed so close that you could barely walk normally. You smiled at him and you saw his eyes twinkling with joy. When you sat down to the huge table, he pulled his chair as close to you as possible and brought your hand into his lap.
“Y/N!” another sharp scream echoed in the kitchen as Ginny appeared, wrapping her hands around you. “It’s so good to see you, I missed you so much!”
“I missed you, too,” you said. “But… Aren’t you supposed to be at Hogwarts?”
“I didn’t go back after the Easter break,” she said, pulling out a chair for herself. “A lot of kids didn’t, actually.”
“We felt it was not safe,” said Mrs Weasley as she put a huge plate of sausages on the table. “Eat, dear, you look like you haven’t had a nice meal for weeks.”
You locked eyes with Fred opposite you then you turned away quickly.
“So what happened?” asked Ginny nervously. “Bill only told us that —”
“He didn’t tell us anything,” said Fred, annoyed, but pale. “Tell us, Y/N.”
“I don’t know much, either,” you shook your head. “Luna and Dean appeared with Ollivander. He looked really bad. Then Ron, Hermione and Harry came, too, and a goblin who seemed unconscious.”
“But were they… all right?” asked Mrs Weasley tensely. You remembered how Hermione looked and did a weird little nod.
“They were… alive.”
“Oh!” Mrs Weasley cried out, tears falling from her eyes. Mr Weasley gently stroke her hair.
“So what happens now?” you asked, looking around the table. “With the shop, with your work, with…”
“Don’t worry about that,” said George. “We can figure out a way to work from here.”
“Yeah, a little change of place didn’t stop us before, did it?” said Fred.
“I can’t go back to the Ministry now,” said Mr Weasley. “And Bill has to stay at home, too. But that’s the least of our troubles. What matters is that we’re all safe.”
Outside the sun was rising and you heard birds chirping. After eight months it was rather nice to hear something else than the ocean.
“When you’ve finished, Y/N, I’ve prepared a room for you on the second floor, dear,” said Mrs Weasley. “Would you like to…”
“No,” said George firmly. “She’s staying with me.”
You casted down your eyes, happy, but still afraid of Mrs Weasley’s reaction. However, she didn’t say anything, just nodded and pressed a motherly kiss on your hair when she took your empty plate away.
“Ready?” asked George and you stood up.
“Yeah.”
You were about to enter the hallway when an old lady appeared in the kitchen and spoke in a grumpy voice.
“Is this that muggleborn girl again?” she grimaced. “The one that put weed in her hair?”
“Yeah,” you said awkwardly. “That’s me.”
Aunt Muriel nodded, her lips forming a weird, not exactly kind smile.
“Careful with that boy while in my house, missy. I don’t want any more ginger kids running around, I’m a hundred and seven, I need my time to rest!”
You flushed. George wheezed.
“Come on, don’t pay attention to her,” he said as he put an arm around your shoulders. He led you through the hallway and stopped at a nice, wooden door. “That’s me, next to me is Fred’s,” he said, pointing at different rooms. “We’ll use that one as an office, I reckon it’ll be all right. We’ll figure it out later, but now I need to sleep.”
He seemed really tired indeed. He led you into the room and you sat down onto the edge of the bed. You looked around, not quite sure what to examine; Muriel’s old paintings, her fancy mirror, or the huge dressing table by the window. You felt so out of place. An hour ago you had been trying to sleep at Shell Cottage.
“What is it?” asked George and he sat down next to you. “What’s wrong?”
You shook your head. You didn’t know how to put your feelings into words. George frowned in concern.
“I’m okay,” you said quickly, choking up. “I just need a minute.”
He nodded and kissed your cheek.
“Do you want to lie down?”
“Yes.”
You quickly kicked off your shoes and climbed into the bed next to him. He welcomed you with open arms, kissing you deeply when your head touched the pillow. He smiled gently. His eyes shined in the color of chocolate.
“We’re together now,” he said when he saw your lips tremble. You sniffled.
“It’s been so long…”
“I know,” he said and you were shocked to see that he was blinking heavily, too. He took a few seconds, then continued. “Sleep now, okay? I can see how tired you are, love.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?” you asked. You were afraid that it was nothing but a dream, and waking up alone was the worst thing you could imagine.
“Of course,” George said, his lips brushing against your forehead. “I won’t let you out of my sight ever again.”
A/N: requests are open, this is my first fic please don’t be mean
___________________________
My boy, my boy, my boy. Don’t love me like he promised. My boy, my boy, my boy. He ain’t a man and sure as hell ain’t honest.
Y/n and Fred had been dating for almost five months and for y/n it was the most amazing thing in the world cause she was totally in love with him, she knew he was the one when he first saw him at the burrow when they were 5 and since then he has always being her crush, so five months ago at the start of the 7th year when he confessed his feeling towards y/n she couldn’t believe it, at first she thought it was some kind of prank by the way he said it.
———-
5 months ago
“Y/n i have to tell you something that is a matter of life or death”, Fred said with a grin on his pretty face, she didn’t even was paying attention to what he was saying she was just too mesmerized with his beauty, “Are you listening to me ?, Fred asked seeing that she was not paying attention he decides to go straight to the point, “I was saying that you are my crush”, Fred said with a smirk.
Y/n was astonished everything crossed her mind, “is this for real?”, she said but Fred didn’t answer so she felt right to tell him the truth about her feelings, “Fred i’ve being in love with you since we met when we were five, at first it wqs just a silky crush but we gotbolder and got into hogwarts and i realized it wasn’t just a silly crush, what im trying to say is… im in love with you Fred Weasley”, he didn’t know how to react and he just said “i love you” and hugged her.
_______
My boy’s being sus and he don’t know how to cuss. He just sounds like he’s tryna be his father (Who are you?). My boy’s an ugly crier but he’s such a pretty liar and by that I mean he said he’d “change”.
Everything happened so quick, Fred didn’t realized how fast this was going and now they’ve been dating for five months, “When are you going to tell her the truth?”, George asked Fred not realizing someone was listening, they should have been more careful and not be talking this in the common room where everyone could hear them “I don’t want to tell her, is going to break her heart she is the sweetest girl i know”,Fred said with guilt on his face, “Freddie you don’t love her, you can’t be with her just for pity”, George said annoyed almost screaming,” Yeah? Well this would never have happened if you hadn’t made me do that stupid bet, it’s all your fault”,Fred said angry.
_________
5 months ago
“Freddie im telling you she likes you”,George said while laying in his bed in their dorm, “No she doesn’t,we’ve been friends since forever believe me if she liked me as more than friends i would know dear brother”, Fred said calmly and confident, “well then if you are so sure about that…”, George said with a grin, “Go on..”, “Let’s make a bet, 5 sickles that she is in love with you”, “you’re on”, Fred said with confidence and he was sure that he would win the bet, after all she knew y/n for years.
Fred was walking on the halls of Hogwarts and spot y/n a few meters away, he thought it was the perfect moment to prove George that he was wrong, but when she started telling that she loved him he didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t tell her that it was all a bet and that he wasn’t in love with her, so he told y/n that he loved her too, i mean he wasn’t absolutely lying right?, he did love her but not the way she wanted to.
__________
Y/n wanted to surprise Freddie with a gift from hogsmeade we wanted since forever but he couldn’t afford it, so she started saving some money to give it to him, she was so excited to see his reaction that she couldn’t wait to give it to him and going as fast as she could she went to the common room, she spoted Fred right away, but she heard something that she shouldn’t have heard, “Freddie, you don’t love her, you can’t be with her just for pity”.
She just stood there frozen, astonished, broken, without even realizing she started crying and sobbing, Fred and George turn around and saw y/n standing there crying, “y/n i can explain”, fred said with guilt on his eyes, she didn’t even bother on going away from him, she couldn’t even if she wanted to, Fred tried to explain everything to her but she wasn’t listening she was just wishing that all of this was a nightmare that soon she would wake up and hug Fred and he would comfort her and tell her it was just a bad dream that everything is alright but obviously it didn’t happen, she came out of her trance as soon as she heard Fred said “im sorry but im never going to love you, not the way you want me to”, she didn’t utter a word she just left and went to her dorm.
My boy, my boy, my boy. Don’t love me like he promised. My boy, my boy, my boy. He ain’t a man and sure as hell ain’t honest.
It has been 4 months since y/n’s heart have been broken, she tried to move on, she tried to fool herself into believing she didn’t love him anymore so she started dating other guys but nothing ever lasted, until she started dating Matt a slytherin guy, he treated her well, he was kind, sweet and always gave her flowers, he loved her and she loved him back but she knew she would never be able to love someone the way she loved Freddie.
Fred stood in the hall watching how Matt gave yellow flowers to y/n, her favourite flowers, everytime Fred smell those flowers it reminds him of her, her scent, her laugh and her beauty, he then realized he did loved her as more than friends, but know it was too late because she was happy with someone else and he wouldn’t ruin that for her, he fucked up and there was nothing that he could do about it, it’s not like he could go back in time and fix it all… or can he?.
You want me to be yours well then you gotta be mine. And if you want a good girl, then goodbye. You want me to be yours well then you gotta be mine. And if you want a good girl, then goodbye.
warnings.smut, he’s a little mean bruh, foul language, corny?
ricky rocks. theosmut whoop whoop. you guys voted—mattheo next.
“hurry up.”
“i’m trying my best,” you grumbled, struggling to wring your tights down to your ankles as theo unbuckled his belt fast and without a problem due to this being nothing new to him.
it had to of been fourth hour and theo was struck in his sour mood that only you could cure. but you could tell he was a lot more aggravated than usual by the way he had gripped your arm so tightly when pulling you toward one of the washrooms. you were guessing it was from draco. that’s always what it ever was and probably always would be and you didn’t blame him.
draco could be an absolute asshole when it came to you. always saying nasty things that insinuated his attraction towards you, things that he knew got into theo’s head no matter any amount of reassurance.
just your body against his.
“you want me to fuck you or not?”
“shut up. you try and take these tights off,” you snide, still struggling to pull down the material with the small area of containment of the stall you both stood in.
“i’ll rip ‘em if i have to.”
you scowled finally pulling them from your legs but still allowed his hot hands to sneak underneath your skirt where he pulled your lacy panties down to your ankles with a kneel, then pulling it from your foot before balling the pink fabric into his pocket.
you couldn’t help but whimper from the position you were in. he was kneeled at your feet with hooded eyes, holding your hips now as you tipped your head back now against the wall already deep in a haze of lust.
“and i’m the one who wanted you,” he shook his head but with a smirk thinking to how persistent you were about not skipping class. “i always forget about how needy you can get.” he was now back to his feet, looking down at you like you are a little helpless puppy.
“justplease fuck me, theodore,” you tilted your head to the side with a frown, gripping both sides of his dress coat, pulling him closer but he shrugged it off quickly not being able to wait after the sweet whiny sound of your voice.
“only ‘cause you asked nice,” he smirked, licking his index and middle finger before swiftly curling his fingers back under your skirt and into your cunt where you groaned at the warm and raptured feeling. “what a good girl.” his voice is warm and there’s a hint of taunt in his voice, but it’s still praiseful and doesn’t fail to make your stomach clench in euphoria as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, making sure you were wet.
theo pulled back, finally undoing his belt swiftly. he’s then quick to thrust into you prompting a moan from your mouth as your head tipped backed against the wall. theo had inhaled sharply, allowing his cock to adjust to the tightness of your cunt—something he never quite got used to. he swore under his breath as he pressed further into you, allowing warmth and easy pleasure to consume him whole.
“pretty girl,” he tsked, pulling out slowly before rushing back in even harder than before. “only like this for me and my cock, aren’t you?”
“yes, theo,” your voice was barely above a whisper as your vision was going spotty from his cock stretching out your walls with the rough thrusts he was pumping into you.
“good,” he mumbled breathlessly, “i love seeing you soweak.”
he grabbed both your thighs, prompting you to jump and once you did, he had your back against the wall, now having a consistent pace that made you a complete mess than before.
“i love being the only one who can see you like this,” his forehead presses against your own, teasing his lips on yours, “tears in your eyes—fucking malfoy could never, could he? you’re mine.”
“yes, theo,” you whined as his hand suddenly clasped around your throat squeezing lightly while his eyes looked down to watch his thick cock pump in and out of your cunt with wet noises, “i’m all for you.”
“you have such a pretty mouth,” his thumb dipped to pull on your bottom lip before pressing it on your tongue. “think of what good you could do with it instead of feeding into draco’s nonsense.”
“i never,” you whined, rolling your head.
“liar,” he seems to drop you fast to your feet, almost making you fall to your knees from how weak of a feeling that was oozing through them, making you feel like jello as you wobbled before he flipped you around fast so you were pressed the wall tightly. “i see you tease him for something he can’t have. always provoking him.”
“but you like that, don’t you theo?” you inhaled sharply as he shoved into you once more, “you love it that draco finally can’t have something.”
he grunted in response, nothing to say but to melt back into your body with rough strokes, his hand wrapping around your waist. he was getting more aggressive now, his pumps becoming slams, “fucking cunt, i own you, you’re mine. i want you to stay away from draco.”
“y-yes theo,” you groaned, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you causing your own high to draw near and move down. “i’m only yours.”
pairings.theodore nott x fem!slytherin!reader, mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin!reader
part one of n/a.
about. in which a group of boys are in search for the one thing that keeps them from their death.
warnings.swearing, dark themes
ricky rocks. idk if you guys are going to dig this i hate it already
it happens at night.
minds are run through, memories are stolen, a version of brutality is placed upon a large amount of boys that come in the forms of bruises, cuts, gashes—that heal but never disappear from the back of their minds. they can never touch the thought—fully grasp what it is or why this has happened to them or even who, but it’s there and it hovers in high heights that they can’t reach.
all survival, that’s what they all think, the persecutors, the boys. and it is; for their survival.
especially theodore.
days got short and he barely felt the effect of professor snapes lessons now. he dreaded the night, but it seemed to come faster than anything else, but couldn’t move fast enough when it finally arrived.
the gift—the thing they were looking for, the thing that was key to all their survival—was the only thing he thought about now and he didn’t even know what it was.
the beginning of year six started not how expected, he was sure none of his friends expected to be initiated into a group that carried out the orders of the dark lord.
it made sense though. the moment mattheo riddle walked into his life, he knew it wasn’t just another friend, he’d be a fool to think that.
they were bound for life.
°•
potions with slughorn was always something theodore never looked forward to, ever. he felt like an asshole every time he sat in his seat and connected eyes with the man. it was like he knew; everything and it always threw theodore off, making him anxious.
and it didn’t help that he was late.
“awh, mr. nott,” he had his body tilted back as he seemed to be sizing up theodore from where he stood—almost deciding if he were friend or foe. “have a seat where you can.”
theodore looked to where all the students sat, looking back at him. it seemed they had all pulled their chairs to the center of the room instead behind desks where things usually were. it made him curse as their were no free seats in the back but rather in the near front.
“go on, no time to waste here.”
he shuffled through the rows before slowly sitting into the only empty seat next to you. neither of you thought much about it, he didn’t even see you.
“some of you have no sense of time,” slughorn scoffs, back to shifting across the floor in front of you all. “swear if the ministry knew what was best, they’d have nation wide curses put on our children to make them at least on time.”
“long live the rebellion, right?” you rolled your eyes in a frivolous way, shrugging, not watching your words carefully. “i swear we fight for something of rights and then someone goes and says something dumb like that.”
he doesn’t realize you’re even speaking to him. not until you finally really looked to him where he immediately looked slightly confused—not processing your words or not exactly understanding the meaning you were trying to put out. lost in translation, very lost in translation.
he thought you must have thought he was someone else but by the way you stared so surely at him and then reached your hand out, offering a soft smile but with an arched brow that also threw him off, introducing—
“y/n.”
he took it, after a long moment, “theodore.”
“i’ve seen you before,” you look him up, your eyes curving around the family ring he wore around his pinky and the scars the littered his fingers, “you’re a nott.”
“you get that from slughorn?” his brow arched and his eyes turned harsh of what looked like annoyance.
“no, you just look an awful lot like your father.”
his chest tightened. not only did he hate that supposed compliment more than anything, but he also found it strange. how would you know his father?
“and you?” his features twisted in suspicion, not knowing you, not even really recognizing you in the slightest like you did of him.
“y/l/n,” you speak, and the both of you finally release hands from the firm grasp, removing him from a trance and back to reality—a smack in the face. the name, he knew, he knew the fucking name and suddenly it made a lot of sense.
“i’m not sure i’m as familiar of you,” he lied, pulling his best face now that he was finally back into the game, but the skeptical look you gave him made him think his facade wasn’t working. “but i’m curious.”
“of what?”
“you.”
“why?”
“why wouldn’t i be?”
you didn’t say anything but your face screwed up instead playfully, adjusting yourself so you were facing slughorn once again, “maybe you should be more curious on slughorn’s lesson.”
°•
exhilarated.
theodore hadn’t felt like that ever and he never thought he would, but walking down the corridor to the slytherin common room, theodore felt exhilarated.
the common room was dim and filled with low chatter but was interrupted the minute he walked in with the aggressive buzz radiating off his body.
they all noticed it before he spoke, before they could even get a real good look at him.
“it’s not a man, and it’s not a younger year like we suspected,” he looked urgent, it caught all of them off guard—never having seen theodore so anxious and full of energy. “it was right under our fuckingnoses.”
mattheo raises his eyes now, looking at theodore like he was a prick, but it only urged him to keep speaking as he sat down before throwing a scrappy looking book on the coffee table where dust spilled into the air making all the boys wince with a cough.
“it’s a girl and she’s in our very own house.”
now they’re all looking at him like he’s prick, shaking their heads and frowning while theodore stared back, not fazed but itching to move. it was so hard to hold it in, he just had to say it all because he felt like a genius for the first time in months and that they’d finally came to a break through.
“the prophecy said-“
“the prophecy was wrong,” theodore looks between all the boys with his arm extended across the table, making sure his assertiveness reached each and every one of their eyes. “i don’t give a fuck what the prophecy said because it was wrong.”
he looks up to mattheo who stares back, his expression blank but holding a questioning look that’d make anyone back down, “it’s a y/l/n,” he knew mattheo would know the name just like he knew it. “she comes down from a death eater traitor of a grandfather and she’s nothing short of the old man because she spoke of a rebellion.”
it’s silent as they look between theodore and mattheo; who thinks and hates how he feels as if he’s being challenged right then.
“and what makes you think it’s her.”
“because we have no one else on the list,” his tone is nasty, “if it’s not her, fine, cross her off but she has to know something.”
he feels it in his bones that he is right.
“talk to your father, if anything it’ll give us time.”
talk to you father. mattheo rolls his eyes and he leans forward, now challenging the hard tone theodore held with a simple stare, “tell me about her.”
°•
“i didn’t think i’d see you,” theodore froze from right behind where you sat, studying a book from the looks of it, but he guessed you weren’t but rather him since he had entered the library over twenty minutes ago before finally coming up to you. “not for awhile, anyways.”
he took a seat next to you, leaning on his elbows while watching you straighten your posture and close the potions book you had been reading for the past hour, “you watching me, nott?”
“you know my father?” he brushes off your question, giving you a calm stare that made your chest tighten.
you didn’t know how to answer. i mean, it’s a simple answer, ‘yes’, and it’s a simple explanation, you just didn’t want to speak under his stare.
luckily, he didn’t care much for your answer in the first place.
“how come i’ve never seen you before,” he leans his head against his propping hand. he looks and seems bored but you can tell that he’s far from it. “you think i would have seen you at least once in the common room.”
“maybe you’re just not very observant, theo.”
god, the way you said his name.
no one called him theo. not for in a long time.
“i highly doubt that,” he narrows his brows but his lips twitch, taking your words lightly.
“you think highly of yourself, don’t you?”
not lately.
but he doesn’t say that, he doesn’t say anything.
“maybe you didn’t see me because i didn’t want to be seen.”
his lips curve, “i doubt that.”
you watch him. you watch his face carefully, surveying his face and in the way it seemed so completely run down even with that smile, “you should sleep more,” your thumb lightly dabs against his cheek, as if touching him reassuringly—no matter how quick the touch was and no matter the fact that you got up from your seat and left him—it was reassuring.
°•
“she’s pretty.”
“yeah, because that’s going to be valuable information mattheo will want to hear,” blaze rolled his eyes, continuing to read through the paper as lorenzo examined you from two tables away in the three broomsticks.
“you never know,” he shrugs, turning from his altered position that was made just to stare. “you can never tell with him.”
“which is exactly why we have to stay focus.”
ever since theo had made the proposition that the gift was held within you, mattheo had made it clear that everyone had to do everything they could to figure you out—which was kind of hard when theo was the only one who could talk to you without it being weird.
so at that moment, everyone else was staking it out.
“you think it’s her?”
blaise doesn’t answer for awhile and enzo thinks he doesn’t hear him at first until blaise lifts his head, sighing, and putting the paper down, “i hope so—for us and theodore’s sake.”
because if theodore was wrong, it’d be the end for him.
°•
“curiosity kills, you know that, right?”
“and i should be afraid?”
“maybe,” you shrugged, now leaning against one of the large rooted trees that bordered the forbidden forest, staring to theo who kept a good distance with his hands shoved in his dress pants pockets. “especially if you find out things you don’t exactly intend to find out.”
you simply shrug again, but he can tell there’s more meaning behind your words than you act. a ghost of a smirk curves on his lips as he tips back on his feet, watching you.
you look so innocent and small planted against the tree and it makes his stomach bubble up, “really?”
you hum, “but i have a feeling you don’t care.”
“why would i?” he strolls toward you now, his curiosity placed in the core of his eye, it makes you bite back a smile.
he now stood close enough with the points of his shoes almost stepping over yours, teasing a step closer, teasing his body to be put against yours.
“answer the question.”
“i don’t think i need to.”
he laughs sarcastically, his head thrown to look at his feet as he lightly kicks at the dirt before looking back up at you. he was nervous, you couldn’t tell, but theo felt it in his heart that this whole thing could go wrong if you were speaking on what he thought you were speaking on.
he prayed you just loved a good chase and were just fucking with his head.
“you’re a strange girl.”
“you’re the one who followed me out here,” you tipped back and forth on your feet, “i’d say you’re the strange one, theo.”
“maybe, i just wanted to see your pretty face.”
you scoffed, “liar.”
he raised a brow, “you’re so pretty, i wish i never said anything,” he examines your face closely, as if really looking at it this time; for a last time. his hand reaches out and is gentle and seems to be barely there as he runs it down the side of your face. “it’s a fucking shame.”
you couldn’t tell if he was sincere about whatever it was he was talking about—but it seemed so by how distraught his demeanor seemed to suddenly turn.
“what’d you say, theo,” you were calm, confused on what he was on about.
his eyes flick to yours, and he leans, meeting his lips with yours for a just a second, wanting to savor you for just a second before you’d be tainted, “you have a gift.”
a/n: i have an addiction. i’m sorry. take this platform away from me. anyway ENEMIES TO LOVER BITCHES.
You’ve always hated George Weasley. You can’t quite explain why, but the two of you have had bad blood since the moment you met freshman year. it’s nothing either of you said or did, just the general presence of the other always set something off in the two of you. however, you weren’t going to give up partying at his frat just because you hated the red haired boy.
warnings: alcohol & cussing, unconsensual touching but it isn’t graphic(not by george obv), mentions of sex and assault/sexual violence, violence and fratboy!georgie
i’m very serious when i say do not read this if you’re easily triggered or impacted by the theme of sexual assault. there is nothing graphic in this fic but i know it is very easy to be triggered by even the smallest mention. if you ever and i mean EVER need someone to talk to about anything pertaining to the topic, my messages are always open. dealing with sexual assault in any form is one of the most traumatising things a person can go through. please never hesistate to reach out if you’re struggling. i love you guys so much, i never want to go suffer in silence.
if you or someone you know if struggling with a rape or sexual assault, you can call 800.656.HOPE (4673) to be connected to a sexual assault service provider in your area. all my hugs and kisses to you all, i love you with all my heart❤️
saturday nights on campus are nothing short of lively for you and your friends. whether you’re testing your fake ids at every bar on the main street or dancing in a sweaty frat basement, there’s never been a dull weekend.
pike has always been your favorite fraternity to attend . you’d become close with some of the pledges on your floor your freshman year and have become obsessed with shutting down every function they hold at the house. there is one part of pi kappa alpha, however, that you could do without. george weasley.
the six three, red haired monster has been getting under your skin for an entire year now. since you met in your first semester of freshman year, you and george had never been on good terms. between the constant teasing from him or your drunk screaming matches that you’ve initiated almost every weekend, it’s safe to say that you two need to be kept as far away from each other as possible.
your friends have never understood the feud. they’ve always described george as one of the nicest guys they’ve ever met. he takes their coats at the door of every pike party to hide in his room to keep them safe from the drunk kleptomaniacs or vomit that inevitably spews from the mouth of a freshman girl. he’s always kept an eye out for your friends, but when it comes to you he swears if murder was legal you’d be six feet under by now.
as you and your friends got ready in your shared apartment for the night ahead of you, the annual pike’s peak ski themed party, you loathe the fact that you’ll be forced to see him again. you wish more than anything that he wasn’t so close with your friends, but alas, he is.
“y/n, can you please promise me something?” Angelina pleads, making you pause your makeup routine to look at her as if to say ‘go on.’ “no fighting with george tonight, we all need one night when the two of you aren’t at each other’s throats.”
if only it were that easy. there have been times in the past when angie and katie have convinced you to play nice with the boy, but he always ends up starting some type of fight with you.
“angie i’ve told you, i have no problem ignoring him for the good of the group,” you reiterate the countless times you’ve tried to prove to the girls that you’re the bigger person. “it’s him you should be talking to, he always starts it.”
katie sighs, already imagining the screaming match that will ensue tonight. “well if he starts something just walk away, easy as that.”
you mull it over for a minute. as much as ignoring him will make it seem like you’ve run out of insults, your vocal chords could use the rest this weekend. you agree to try and keep your mouth shut around george.
the three of you zip up your obnoxiously bright ski jackets over the black sports bras and jeans you’re wearing. you loved pikes peak, you could put in virtually no effort and still look like you spent hours getting ready.
the pike house is already buzzing with the bass of whatever mix oliver wood put together for the party. it’s not a pike party without ollie behind the dj booth. the high that you’re on as you walk past the pledges fades as your faced with george weasley.
just ignore him.
“look at my most beautiful groupies,” he says with a smile, scanning over angie and katie. “and…whatever thatis.”
you can already feel your cheeks heat up with rage and your fists tighten. you take a deep breath and repeat katie’s words just an hour ago, ‘walk away.’ you roll your eyes at the boy and move your way through the party, eventually taking your spot next to ollie behind the dj stand.
“well hey there miss y/n,” ollie greets you, resting his headphone around his neck and pulling you into a hug. “half expected you to be beating weasley to a pulp by now.”
you laugh at his honesty, everyone expects some huge blow up between you and george within the first few minutes of a party. “trying something new, ignoring him for the night. can’t tire myself too much.”
ollie just smiles and goes back to the music. you’re adding songs to the queue and laughing along with him. you almost forgot how much you missed spending time with him, most of your interactions with the boy group ending with a fight with weasley without even being able to talk with the other boys.
across the room, george is watching you actually enjoy yourself and is fuming. he’s so used to being able to get under your skin, so you blowing him off was a major knock to his ego. he thrives on your reactions to his teasing, feeling like he doesn’t even have a purpose at this party now that you’re ignoring him.
you eventually leave oliver behind the booth and find angelina and katie, luckily they’re now where near george, rather dancing with his twin. you’ve always liked fred, but your constant arguing with his brother makes it hard for you to have any sort of friendship with him. this is the first pike party you’ve been to all year that you’re genuinely enjoying yourself. dancing with your friends, drinking without a care. the night is actually starting to look up.
you tell angie and katie that you’re off to the bathroom, the beers and seltzers finally catching up to your bladder. as you make your way through the crowd of people, you finally make it to the bathroom which is in the furthest corner of the house. before you can reach for the handle, someone is grabbing at your wrist.
“let’s go to my room.” the boy slurs, you turn to see a tall boy, far taller than you. you recognise his face but don’t know his name.
“no than-“
“i wasn’t asking,” he cuts you off and grabs your hip with his other hand. “come on i know you want to.”
“no just get off of me!” you yell trying to push his hands away from you but his death grin on your body doesn’t seem to be loosening. using your free hand you start beating the boys chest and that seems to just make him angrier. “you’re hurting me! just get off, i’m not coming to your room!”
even though you feel like your screaming the loud music seems to drown out the noise from anyone who could come and help you. even though the boy is obviously stronger than you, that doesn’t stop you from continuing to hit him in the hopes that his drunken state will take him off of you. your efforts are to no avail as his mouth connects with your neck, sucking harshly, making you scream out again. your head is thrashing, continuing to attempt to free yourself from his grasp.
“no! stop get off of me, please!” you shriek, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks. before you can realize what’s going on the boy is ripped from you and pinned up against the wall. you don’t even look to see what’s happening, just trying the catch your breath.
“she said no!” you immediately recognize the voice. george weasley. he fist connects with the boys jaw, almost knocking him unconscious as he’s still pushed against the wall. “what the fuck is wrong with you pucey! don’t you ever fucking touch her again!”
george still screaming as the boy you know realize is adrian pucey, is wailing in pain as george’s fists continue to meet his body. you don’t want to watch this anymore so you grab george’s hand before he can hit adrian again.
“stop, please.” it’s softer than you wanted it to come out but george still hears you. he drops adrian to the ground and takes a hold of your shoulders. even in the dark he’s examining your face for any sign of adrian’s abuse, his eyes land on the growing bruise on your neck and his fingers lightly trace over the mark. his other hands goes to your face, using his thumb to wipe the stream of tears.
“are you okay?” he asks quietly, eyes still trained on the hickey adrian unconsensually left on your neck. “i would’ve killed him.”
“why are you doing this, weasley?” you step back from him, crossing yours arms over your chest. “go on and tell everyone how you had to pull pucey off of me. how i was crying like a little baby. how helpless i was, i know that why you’re here.”
a flash a hurt crosses his face, he shakes his head. “is that really what you think of me?”
“of course it is, you’ve never given me a reason to think anything else,” you reply, wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks. “just leave weasley, i can’t take whatever’s going to come out of your mouth, not tonight okay? i could’ve handled this myself.”
“yeah you were doing a great job of handling it before i came it,” he scoffs and goes to walk away, kicking pucey one last time for good measure, but stops himself. “would you just stop arguing and follow me?”
you go to protest but figure you’re not in any mood to argue with him. he reaches his hand out to guide you through the sea of people but your arms stay folded against your chest. he rolls his eyes and leads you up the stairs and into a bedroom. you’d never been in his bedroom before. he goes into his closet to pull out a sweatshirt and tosses it your way.
“i’m not wearing this,” you tell him, throwing it back at him and he groans at your stubborn attitude. “why am i in your room, weasley?”
“does the word thank you not exist in your vocabulary?” he asks with a bitter tone. “i don’t care if you wear it, i’m leaving.”
he slams the door behind him and leaves you by yourself again. you look in the mirror on his wall at the disheveled sight looking back at you. your mascara collected under your eyes from your tears, the dark hickey from pucey on your cheek, bruises forming on your wrist and hip. you thought you had cried all the tears out before but seeing the damage he had done pulls sobs from your lips. you’re shaking at the memory of what happened, the thought of what could have happened. you collapse on george’s floor.
almost immediately the door swings open. you’re hoping maybe george told angie or katie and they were coming to take you home but it’s just george standing there. he never left his door, seeing pucey attack you like that made him fear that it might happen to you again. he quickly shuts the door behind him and crouches next to you as you struggle to catch your breath.
“hey, hey what’s going on you were fine a few second ago,” he tries to read your face but it’s hidden in your hands. “look at me, y/n, please.”
you lift your face to look him in the eyes. your puffy eyes and red cheeks make his heart sink. this is the first time he’s looked at you and felt something other than utter annoyance. you look so sad.
“i-i’m so s-scared,” you stutter through your speech. “if you hadn’t come he could’ve, it would have turned into -”
“don’t talk like that,” he begs you, still staying a bit of a distance from you. “i was there, i stopped it. you’re safe now.”
once you calm down he pleads for you to lay down and get some rest. you finally take the sweatshirt from him and wrap it around your body. he leans down to crouch in front of you, your eyes still welled with tears. he pats your head and goes to leave. in reality he would be posted outside the door for the rest of the night, but he’d never tell you that. As he shuts off the lights and opens the door, you squeak out a plea, “can you stay? please.”
george hesitates, he knows showing any kind of compassion for you in this moment will inevitably put a rift in your strict enemies only relationship. the one he’s been so set on keeping since he started developing feelings for you last semester. the only way he could keep you close while also concealing his feelings was to pick those fights with you every weekend. this would change everything.
however, seeing you curled up in his bed, shaking under his blankets, your eyes wide with fear broke something in him. he let out a deep sigh before closing his door again and locking it behind him. he stands in place for a minute, unsure of what to do from here.
“george,” you call out, voice cracking. you hadn’t called him by his first name in months. “thank you.”
“you haven’t called me george in a while.”
“shut up, weasley,” you immediately reply, making george chuckle. he decides to sit on the edge of his bad facing you, watching you continue to shake as sporadic sobs come from your frail frame. it’s breaking his heart. He eventually comes up to lay beside you, careful not to touch you. partly due to the fact that he knows you’re probably traumatised by pucey’s attack on you and also partly due to him knowing he may not be able to control himself from taking you in arms until you stop your terrible shaking.
it wasn’t george that first moved closer, it was you. you weren’t sure if it was the fact that he just saved you from a potentially life shattering situation or the fact that his room felt like subzero but you wanted to be close to him.
“why is your room so cold?” you ask with a shiver. “i feel like i’m in the arctic.”
“don’t be such a baby it’s not that cold,” he scoffs, giving you the same tone he always has. something in you is disappointed, partly hoping that maybe this changed something. maybe you were overthinking him being so doting on you tonight. of course things wouldn’t be different. why would you want them to be? what he did tonight he would do for any girl in thai party. while you don’t get to see that side of him, angie and katie have always talked about how protective he is, you just never thought it would extend to you.
“why’d you help me?” you ask, staring at him dead in the eyes. his breath hitches, he’s not sure why. he would do it for anyone, no questions asked. he’s never been the guy to look the other way when a girl is hurting, but what was he doing all of this for you. surely he wouldn’t bring just anyone up to his room, he wouldn’t stay if they asked.
“i wasn’t going to let pucey hurt you like that, i wouldn’t let him do it to anyone,” he replies, hoping you’ll be off the topic from now on.
“you would’ve killed him if i hadn’t stopped you.” george thinks back to the moment. how angelina had pleaded for him to find you after you’d been gone for so long. how he heard your cries over the music, you screaming no. how pucey had himself attached to you and the rage bubbled over in him.
“would you come off of it?” he asked sternly, fearing if this conversation moved any further he would be confessing that he’s never actually hated you. “i forgot how annoying you were for a second there, i’m getting out of here.”
your heart sinks at his words. you were already in shambles and he decided to be his same old asshole self. it hurt. you immediately sat up and watched as he grasped the door handle but didn’t turn it.
“classic, something gets hard and you’re running away,” you spit at him. you needed someone there, you needed him there, and he was running off. “go on weasley, be the little bitch you are, run off and tell everyone how big bad george weasley beat up pucey just to leave me up in your room where he could for sure do it again.”
“you just love running that fucking mouth of yours don’t you?” george snaps, his face beginning to heat up. this is always how it starts. his tone is playfully arrogant until it switches completely. “you think i would just leave you in here where anyone could come in? are you really that stupid? i would’ve staid outside the fucking door all night if that’s what it took for you to sleep after ehat happened, i just can’t be in this fucking room with you.”
you roll your eyes at how dramatic he is. as if staying in a room with you for one night would kill him. in his mind, however, it might. seeing you curled up in his bed, in his clothes, begging for him to stay, it’s all too much for him to handle.
“yeah sure you would. you wouldn’t go chasing after your brother the second he called that some girl was asking for you. this is all for show, you’re trying to make me seem like the one you can’t coexist with you,” you shout. “then everyone can blame me for this stupid fucking fight we’ve been having for an entire year. you can be the innocent one, that’s it isn’t it?”
george can’t believe how blind you are. how you’ve failed to notice that every time you get up in his face to yell at him he loses his breath. that you can’t see that teasing you is his only way to keep you coming back to pike. that he almost killed pucey because he likes you. he so painfully likes you.
“you’re an idiot you know that?” he yells, taking his hand off the doorknob. “seriously how dumb can you be? you really think i’m doing all of this for my image?”
“then answer my fucking question, weasley,” you spit at him, becoming angrier every minute that he won’t admit his own obsession with how everyone perceives him. “why. are. you. helping. me.”
every word comes out dripping with the venom of your rage. getting george to admit he’s a self centered, self serving asshole will give you all the evidence you need to show katie and angie that this feud is his fault, not yours. he begins to pace around the room, hands going to his hair as he looks deep in thought. your eyes never leave him, watching as he slowly unwinds in front of you. it’s happening, he’s going to admit it.
“you want to know why? you really want to know why i’m doing all this? why i dedicate my fucking saturday nights to fighting with you? that’s what you really want?”
“that’s what i asked isn’t it?”
“because i fucking like you, okay?” he shouts, making your heart stop. your jaw is practically on the floor, this is not the confession you were expecting. his face softens along with his tone, “i like you.”
he’s quiet, almost inaudible over the muffled bass of the music coming from downstairs. you face hasn’t changed, your brain is empty. your completely unable to move. you begin to shake your head after a minute, repeating the words ‘no’ and ‘you’re lying.’
“fuck this,” george finally speaks up, going back to reach for the door. “have a nice life, y/n, don’t bother coming back here after tonight.”
“george stop!” you yell which makes him stop in his tracks. his first name again. it makes his heart ache. he can’t get involved, he can’t fall into your trap. he continues to make his way to get as far from you as he possibly can. “george i mean it! stop running away from me.”
you’re now off the bed, following close behind him. you’re swimming in his sweatshirt, the material falling just below your knees. you don’t know why you suddenly have the urge to touch him, to be with him but it’s there. him threatening you to never come back made your chest tighten, not because you’ll be missing parties, but you’ll be missing him. memories of your screaming matches flood your brain, the absolute high you’re on as you’re staring up at him after shouting something offensive his way. the way you can never seem to catch your breath when he’s around you. the fact that you continue coming back, knowing he’s going to hurt your feelings in some way or another, because it means you’ll be with him. as toxic and backwards as it seems, you’ve never hated george. you were utterly obsessed with him. when you finally reach him, grabbing his hand to stop him fleeing, his whole body snaps to turn toward you. he looks wild.
“what could you possibly have to say to me?” he shouts, making you step back. his words are fueled by anger and hatred. when he sees you back away from him, he immediately regrets his tone. “come to gloat? to make fun of me? save it, y/n. i don’t want to hear it.”
you don’t say a word. on the crowded staircase of your drunk classmates you do the last thing you could have ever imagined doing with george weasley. you kiss him.
he’s completely taken aback, freezing in his place as soon as he feels your soft lips against his. one hand is wrapped around the back of his neck and the other is holding his cheek. eventually, reality hits the boy and he’s pulling you into him by your hips. you wince in pain from the tender bruise aching on your hip from pucey’s hands and george immediately pulls away to see if you’re alright.
“god, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i didn’t realize he hurt you so bad,” he starts to ramble on, keeping his hands off of you to keep from hurting you. “y/n, i’m — i just — i don’t know what to say.”
your hand is still on his face, your thumb stroking over his cheek bone. you can’t believe you had just kissed the boy you had sworn to hate for the rest of your life. pulling your hands away from your body you take a hold of his that are hovering inches away from your hips. you move they to lay against your waist and move yours to return to his face. you lean yourself back up toward him again, capturing his lips for the second time tonight. he didn’t hesitate this time, pulling you closer to him.
as soon as you pull away from each other, you’re soon walking back to his room hand in hand. he closes the door and flicks on the lights. being with him now feels astronomically different. the tension that once plagued any room you two shared has melted away.
“i didn’t want to pressure you into doing that,” he says softly, his palm resting on your cheek as the two of you sit only inches from each other on his bed. “especially after what pucey did to you, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have been so harsh.”
you stop him from spiraling any further into a pit of blame. “i feel safe with you georgie, i wouldn’t have stayed in here with you, kissed you, if i didn’t. you know i’d be the last to admit this, but you saved me, i owe you one.”
a small smile tugs on his lips. he can’t help but feel his heart hammering against his ribs like it’s going a thousand miles and hour. “consider the debt repaid,” he replies, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i don’t think i would’ve ever been able to face you after tonight if you hadn’t come running after me.”
your smile mirrors his, unable to contain the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. the two of you just stare at each other for a while, trying to imprint this moment in your memory forever.
“can i kiss you again?” he asks, his lips so close that you can feel his breath against yours. you nod against his forehead, silently begging to feel his warmth again.
kissing george is like nothing you’d ever felt before. you spent your entire life kissing boys that meant nothing to you, this feels like home. his tongue slips into your mouth, exploring every inch of you, memorising how you feel as if you’ll be stolen from him at any second. he’s thought of this exact moment for months, every time you fought, every time he spoke to you, he imagined what it would feel like to have you like this.
“still feels like a tundra in here,” you tell him after you pull away. he takes you by your good wrist and urges you to lay next to him, his arms wrapping tightly around your body wishing he would never have to let go.
“better?”
“better.” you reply, letting you hand rest against his chest, feeling his heart beat. “this is not how i imagined this night going.”
“neither,” he says, running his fingers up and down your side. “never thought i’d get to hold you like this.”
your cheeks heat up, not from your usual rage but from the sudden rush on nerves. you don’t know how to act around him when you’re not about to beat his face in. he gently pulls your face from where it’s hiding in his chest to admire you. he presses his lips softly against yours, then moves to either cheek, then to your forehead.
“what happens now?” you ask, suddenly hit with the realization that you can’t go on with the feud that’s been bubbling between the two of you for the past year. you’ll have to tell your friends that you don’t hate each other anymore, that you did the unthinkable and kissed george weasley.
“i don’t care,” he says simply. “we could continue fighting until my dying breath, i just don’t want to be without you. ever.”
“what a little sap-fest you’ve become,” you tease holding yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at the boy. “who knew the george weasley could be so sentimental.”
“oh shut up,” he nudges your shoulder, pulling his arms from around you to rest behind his head. “you’re the one who kissed me, y/n, you started this.”
you let out a giggle, resting your head against his chest. you talk for hours about everything and nothing at all. eventually you hear the music die from downstairs, your phone buzzing with texts from angie and katie worried sick about where you ran off to. you tell them you’re fine and you’ll explain tomorrow. it’s an unspoken assumption that after all these months of fighting, you’ll be sleeping in george’s bed, cuddled up to him like you have been for the last few hours. you turn from your phone to see him stripping his shirt from his body, going to pull his khakis from his body and your heart stops.
“george i-” you start, not being able to form a coherent sentence. “i’m sorry but i can’t do anything like that, not tonight, not after what happened.”
his face turns down in worry, swiftly pulling a pair of sweats from his drawer to cover his bare legs. “oh my god, no y/n that’s not where i thought this was going at all. i usually sleep without a shirt on but it that makes you uncomfortable i can put one on. i’m so sorry i wasn’t even thinking.”
you sigh in relief, of course he wasn’t going to ask you to do anything like that after what he saw. you can’t believe you assumed that of him.
“no, no i’m sorry i know you would never,” you reply, rubbing your face between your palms. “i’m just on edge.”
he sits next to you, already holding a pair of boxers for you to wear and places them in front of you. he runs his hands up your arms. “don’t apologize to me, you’re allowed to be on edge after that. i should’ve been more conscious of that. i can go to the bathroom while you change if you want, unless you want to stay in your jeans.”
you shake your head, pulling the denim off your legs and replacing them with george’s boxers. you’re safe with him, you remind yourself.
“thank you, george,” you say quietly. “for everything.”
“i’d do it again, a hundred times over if i had to,” he tells you, pulling you into his arms to hold you. “do you want to talk about it?”
you shake your head no and he nods. he lays the two of you back and pulls his blankets other you. your head lays against his bare chest, feeling the most secure you have in your life. george’s breath eventually steadies as he slips into a deep sleep. it’s the easiest he’s ever been able to fall asleep, feeling completely comfortable with you in his arms. you fall asleep soon after him, the arms of george weasley and the walls of pi kappa alpha lulling you into the sweetest dreams.
a/n: You guys absolutely went off for part 1, thank you so so much!! Someone requested that I make a part 2 where y/n finally gets a happy ending, but without ron so I decided to kind of run with the idea, this time sort of from ron’s point of view.
disclaimer: the timeline in the books/movie are gonna line up in this one. I know they didn’t have a seventh year and i know ron kissed lavender before winter but this is obv not cannon, go with it, also fred dying was a prank anyway so YOU THOUGHT it would be included. absolutely not.
After taking y/n’s affection for granted, Ron realizes he’s made a huge mistake when she’s moved on to be happy without him
warning(s): cussing, sadness, broke my own heart writing this
Pay attention to the gif, keep it in your mind towards the end.
And all my friends are tired Of hearing how much I miss you, but I kinda feel sorry for them ‘Cause they’ll never know you the way that I do
It took a long time for you to move on from Ron, you didn’t have to look very far to do so. Ginny had told off Ron one night for hurting you without realizing the twins were awake and hearing all the nasty things Ron put you through. By that point he and Hermione were no longer together, she realized he was too good of a friend to lose to a ‘stupid school relationship.’ So now he was alone, completely clueless to the fact that someone else had begun pining over you.
“Merlin, not this again.” Harry groans into his textbook. The wizarding world was on the verge of destruction and all Ron could speak about was how much he missed you. “Ron, we get it you fucked up with her, get over it.”
The boys had heard the same speech everyday. He would first start off with ‘I know I say this a lot’ then go onto name the things he misses most about you. Your hair, your eyes, your laugh, how small your hands are compared to his. He then groans about how stupid he is for, well, everything.
“I never heard you talk about her before now,” Dean adds, actually semi-invested in the drama that surrounded Ron’s love life. “Whats so special about her anyway?”
How could he even begin to explain what was so special about you. As much as he wished he could say he lied to you about everything he said to you, how easy it would be if he never gave a shit about you, that just isn’t the case. You had this way of making him feel safe whenever he held you. He wasn’t lying when he told you that you felt like home, he just didn’t mean to say it to soon. Maybe that was the reason he decided to kiss Lavender Brown, knowing you were watching. He wanted to push you away in the most hurtful way possible that you never even thought about coming back to him, but immediately regretted that decision.
You also had this weird hold on him, even when he was with Hermione, he would catch a glimpse of your smile and his heart would drop into his stomach. He would see your eyes sparkle in the light of the living room fire place when you were visiting the Burrow and want to scream out that he never meant to hurt you. He notices things about you that you probably hadn’t even noticed about yourself. The way your nose will scrunch when you focus really hard when Ginny tries to teach you wizard chess, how he wishes you would let him close enough to teach you. His heart aches when he notices you shift away from him, even after he and Hermione broke up. When you and Gin walk into the Great Hall for dinner and you go out of your way to sit as far from his as you can.
“You don’t understand,” Ron huffs out, rolling onto his side, wishing you were laying close into his chest like you used to. “She’s something else.”
“Ron, I know you miss her and everything but I have to tell you that you missed your chance,” Harry tells him. “Ginny tells me more than she probably should about all of this, she’s finally moved on from you mate, let it go.”
But how could he? How could he move on when you’re constantly around? He can hear a laugh from all the way down the hall and immediately know its falling from your lips, he’ll hear the sound of an engine from his bedroom window and know you’ve arrived for one of your weekend stays. The way you get on so well with his family, you’re perfect for him, you always have been but he took you for granted and now all he can do is complain to his friends about how he let you go.
And I know we weren’t perfect But I’ve never felt this way for no one, oh And I just can’t imagine How you could be so okay now that I’m gone?
He thought for a long time that you were a temporary fix for his feelings that ran deep within him for Hermione, but being with her only made him realize that it was you all along. How could he have been so stupid? He refused to let his friends know you were together, in fear that Hermione would lose the feelings he had prayed she felt toward him, but in doing so he only pushed you away.
“Ron, we can’t keep sneaking around like this.” You would tell him after he pulled you into a broom closet in the middle of the day. “They’ll find out eventually, it’s not like Ginny would be cross with either of us.”
Ron was never able to give you a clear answer when it came to why you had to hide from everyone, not wanting to admit to you that it was because he was hung up on his best friend. Looking back now, it was the stupidest decision he ever made. While your relationship was chaotic and spontaneous and secretive, it was still something he now yearned for everyday, he needed to feel what he felt for you then. More specifically, he needed you to feel what you felt for him back then too. Admittedly, he never loved Lavender Brown, she was only there to stroke his ego. He thought he loved Hermione, but how can you fully love someone if your heart is connected to someone else? Loving you felt different than with anyone else, his chest burned and his hands tingled whenever you were around him.
That’s why it hurt him so badly to see you move on, and not to just anyone. After Ginny’s outburst toward her brother over how he continued to treat her best friend, a certain Weasley grew closer to you. At first, George wanted to apologize to you for the way his brother treated you as well as help you navigate co-existing with the boy. However, the more time you spent with George, the closer you became. You found yourself laughing at his stupid pranks that wouldn’t have even warranted a grin years ago. You felt the need to be near him grow more everyday, Ron noticed your sudden draw toward his brother as well.
He couldn’t understand how after, according to Ginny, crying over him for days on end, barely being able to get into your car to drive to the Burrow in fear of seeing him you could all of a sudden move on to his brother. Now that he realized how bad he messed up, he’s miserable that you weren’t around him, that you didn’t love him like you used to. How could you not feel the same hollow feeling he did?
What Ron didn’t see was that you did feel that hollow feeling, for months actually. You watched him fall in love and out of it twice before he realized you were the one, but by that time you didn’t have anything left to give him. You were healing in a way that caused you to grow apart from him even further. You found happiness is sleepovers with Ginny, helping Molly in the kitchen, and now long drives with George. You no longer felt like you needed Ron to survive. You didn’t eat, sleep, and breathe him anymore and that killed him.
You were careful to never make Ron feel the same way you did when you saw him with Lavender and Hermione, you weren’t as cruel as he was back then, but it was no secret that you and the twin had sparked some sort of relationship. Ginny was over the moon, as she began to lose hope in having you as a real sister by being with Ron, George came in and saved the day. If you thought Ron was mature for his age, George was practically ten times more. The more responsible of the twins, he always seemed to know exactly what to do and say in every situation. He always gave the best advice. What to do when a professor wouldn’t let up, how to sneak around the halls of Hogwarts at night, and most commonly how to continue in your growth while the one person who seems to stunt it is living only a stones-throw away. While you were still in school and he was running the shop, he would send you letters updating you on his life and beg you to come work at the shop with him and Fred when you finish school, telling you that you would make an excellent addition to the team. His words never failed to make you blush.
He’s three years older than you, almost twenty by the time you had moved on completely from Ron, so nothing ever really happened with George then, but your growing companionship could only be expected to blossom from there. Ron couldn’t stand it. Of all people you could seek comfort in, it had to be his brother. He would hear you gushing to Ginny about the most recent letter you received in the Common Room or witness you and George chatting about something completely arbitrary over Christmas and seethe with anger. In his mind, if you had ever truly loved him like you say you did, you wouldn’t be so content knowing that you two would never be together.
Red lights, stop signs I still see your face in the white cars, front yards Can’t drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fuckin’ love you, babe
It was no longer a secret to any of the Weasley clan that Ron was miserable. When he’s at school, he’s complaining to his friends about what he could have done differently so that he could have you. At home he begged his sister to stop bringing you around, as if he had any say in whether or not you visited the Burrow. Now being old enough to use magic outside of Hogwarts, he would apparate out any time he heard you pull up to his driveway. He would go to London mostly, distracting himself in the busy streets and crowds of people.
It never worked. Somehow everywhere he turned he thought he would catch a glimpse of your hair blowing in the wind. He would shake his head just to realize you were never there. Any white car that passed next to him would immediately strike fear in his heart, thinking you were behind the wheel, but you never were. He couldn’t decide if he was looking for you in everything or if he was so afraid to see you that he imagined you everywhere. Nevertheless, there was nothing Ron Weasley could do that would effectively distract himself from you, and he’s now starting to realize it’s all his fault.
If he hadn’t been so self centered to fall into Lavender Brown’s compliments and praises due to his egomania, he would have never kissed her in front of you. At the time he thought of it as kind of a test, how far could he push you before you were no longer kissing the ground he walked on. Seeing you still tremble at his touch or your cheeks heat up whenever he said your name made him feel good, like you would never leave him. Now that you’re gone, he’s kicking himself for pushing that limit. He didn’t know it would take him falling into Hermione’s arms in that hospital bed in front of you to ruin your good opinion of him forever, but if he did he swears he would have called out your name that day instead.
On top of the Dark Lord plotting to take over the wizarding world as he knew it, his last semester was filled with memories of you. Any time he would walk into the common room his heart would fill with sorrow, recalling how it felt to first kiss you there. He would also replay the moment he kissed Lavender Brown in that very spot, after pulling away catching a glimpse of you rushing through the crowd of Gryffindors to get away from him. In that moment he felt like the world’s biggest arse, yet it didn’t keep him from holding onto Lavender a bit longer. He avoided certain hallways that would force him to pass the broom closets and empty classrooms he pulled you into throughout the school day, hiding you from his friends. What a stupid thing to do. Part of him knew back then that he would never feel the way he felt about you for anyone else, but he was greedy.
Seeing you happy without him ripped his heart out of his chest and tore it to shreds. How you would smile down at a piece of parchment, assuming it was a letter from his brother. The sound of your voice carrying through the dorms as you and Ginny would stay up late in the common room talking about nothing and everything all at once. He couldn’t bear living right next to you, co-existing with you, while you just ignored him and grew apart from him.
“Y/n,” He calls your name. You’re alone in the common room, that is until he came in. You hadn’t heard him say your name in a while, you find it doesn’t have the same impact on you as it did a year ago and you’re grateful for that. “Y/n, can I talk to you?”
“What is it, Weasley?” You ask him, hoping the dismissal you intended in your tone translates. You had spent months avoiding him, avoiding the longing gazes, so that you could pick up the pieces of your heart that he shattered and put them back together. He doesn’t respond for a while, just admiring how you look in the glow of the fireplace. “I don’t have all night, get on with it.”
“Right,” He replies, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. He takes a seat on the arm chair across from the couch that you’re sat on, careful not to get too close. Your face is cold, he almost doesn’t recognize you without your smile. “I messed up, Y/n. I know I did. I fucked it all just to have a quick fix because I’m arrogant and selfish. I was so lost back then, in my own pride, that I didn’t know what I wanted out of life. But I know now what I needed then, what I need now.”
You don’t reply. Your heart is sinking but you do a great job of hiding it. Your face doesn’t change even though your inside is screaming. After months of crying and misery, watching the first boy you had fallen in love with fawn over what felt like every girl in the school, you had finally stopped hurting. Your heart doesn’t ache when you see him anymore, you don’t blush when you hear his name and you stopped yearning for his touch. Yet now, he has the audacity to try and fix it. Months ago you would have welcomed this grand gesture of what you can only assume to be a confession of the love he never lost for you, but you’re not the person you were then, thanks to the boy sat in the armchair that forced you to grow up and move on from him so soon.
“Say something.”
“Say something?” You ask, gawking at his audacity and slamming your book next to you. “You dangle your little relationships in front of me for almost a fucking year, pretending like I never meant anything to you and you’d like me to say something? Do you understand what kind of pain you caused? I cried until I had nothing left because you told me all these nice things about me, you told me you loved me, then you kissed Lavender right in front of me. Not only that but I spent hours, Ron, hours sitting next to your bed in the hospital scared shitless that you were going to die in there. You know who came twenty minutes before you woke up, Granger. I was there for hours and who’s name you did you call out? Hers. Months ago I would have eaten this shit up, Weasley. You could have come in here and told me my hair looked different and I would have fallen in love with you all over again. Not anymore. I’m finally happy, you don’t get to ruin that because things didn’t turn out the way you wanted them to with Hermione.”
He sits in front of you, shocked. Part of him expected you to always want him, to come back to him even after all this time but he was wrong. He looked at you, hoping that maybe you were lying, that you were just scared to get hurt again so you put on a face for him but the look in your eyes told him more than what just fell from your lips. You hate him.
“Y/n, please.” He whimpers as you start to collect your things to leave this room immediately. There are only two of you but you feel suffocated. “I love you.”
“Shut up.” You tell him, not in jest, not to tease him but genuinely wanting him to stop speaking. “Don’t you dare say that to me ever again. You don’t deserve to know what it’s like for me to love you, you never did.”
You leave him sitting alone in the common room, heart shattered from your words that dug into him like a thousand knives. He replayed it over and over again, to feel something other than the numbness that was sure to come in time when you love someone you cannot have. He still had to be around you, watch you live your life without him. He had to see you laugh and know he could never put a smile like that on your face ever again. In order to fully heal from the heartache he was facing he knew he had to separate himself from you, to leave for a while so he didn’t have to see you fall in love with his brother, but he couldn’t. He decided he would rather have you in the smallest way possible, watching you from afar, seeing you smile like you once did at him, then never see you again.
Sidewalks we crossed I still hear your voice in the traffic, we’re laughing Over all the noise God, I’m so blue, know we’re through But I still fuckin’ love you, babe
Years Later
Following your last year at Hogwarts, you followed George’s orders and began working at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. The twins were overjoyed to have your help, George especially so to have you around so often. With you 18 and he 21, after all these year he made his move on you, your friendship blossoming into something more.
You finally knew what it felt like to love and be loved back. George never tried to keep you from his friends, he never snuck off with you to hide your relationship, rather he paraded you around, proud that ‘someone like him was able to swing someone like you.’ He made you blush every time he looked at you, his handsome smile always pulling at your heartstrings. You had become addicted to being loved in that way.
Ron didn’t love your new relationship with his brother as much as as you did. He knew you deserved someone good, someone who would treat you right, he just wished it didn’t have to be someone who placed you in his life indefinitely. His heart ached whenever he would see George’s hand reach for yours as you giggled through the backyard of the Burrow. The worst was when he caught the two of you kiss for the first time.
It was late in the Summer, just after you and Ginny finished your years at Hogwarts. You were visiting just like you always did that time of year and late one night Ron heard rustling down from the main floor. Fearing that an animal had gotten in the house, he immediately searched for the origin of the noise. What he was met with was worse than if an acromantula had found its way into his kitchen. There you were, your hands tangled in his brother’s fiery red hair and his resting on your waist, your body pressed up to the sink. As he watched your lips against his brother’s, he felt as if a fire had engulfed his heart, his chest beginning to sting as it became harder to breathe. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t stop you two, just turned on his heels and darted back to his bedroom. When he was finally safe in his solitude, he slid against his door and broke down. The memories of the two of you in that very kitchen years ago flooded his sense.
During winter break of his sixth year and your fifth, the two of you spent your time cooking and cleaning together in that kitchen, laughing over the littlest things. Even when you weren’t right next to each other, he could still hear your laugh over all the commotion in the house. It was and still is his favorite sound. He wishes that he could bring that sound from your lips again, hoping that maybe one day you’ll realize your love for his brother is really misdirected love toward him, but that all changed.
You’re now 22 and George is 25. You have officially been together for four year. The shop had expanded immensely, renovations to the first store and new shops opening up all over the country and the continent. You count yourself lucky to be a part of it, to be able to say your boyfriend was the co-owner of the most successful joke shop in Europe. Being able to see how his eyes glow like it’s his first day of work every single day still makes your heart smile.
Tonight is another unveiling event of a new shop, this one in Spain. However, this new location being the 10th shop to open up in the continent, the boys decided this launch party would be more formal than the last, a bigger celebration. You all are dressed up, George in a tuxedo and you in a floor length gown. You loved seeing George in his everyday clothes, thinking he would look handsome in a potato sack, but there is something about that boy in a suit. All your friends and family are there, investors too. It’s a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.
Ginny is still your best friend, you can’t imagine a day when she isn’t. You still have sleepovers in the Burrow even though you had your own lives and own flats. She’s still with Harry, a ring now occupying her left finger. When he proposed you and Ginny immediately started planning the wedding, there was no question who the maid of honor would be. She practically begs her older brother to make an honest woman out of you every time she sees him because she wants to, like almost everything in your lives, go through this experience with you.
Ron is there, of course he is. One of the biggest milestones in his older brothers’ career paths so far, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. He works at the shop sometimes, never with you, Fred and George would never be so cruel to ask him to do such a thing. He watched you for most of this night, his brother’s hand resting on your lower back every time he looked. While he knew your smile that you were putting on for investors and old friends was partly exaggerated so you could better play your role of proud girlfriend to the co-owner, he still admired how it sparkled like no one else’s he had ever seen. You grew more beautiful with every year you aged, this of course hurt him to still see you so happy without him.
You catch Ron’s stares throughout the night, you ignore them for the most part. You have come a long way, you were sixteen with you had your heart absolutely shattered by the boy and now you’re an adult. You have a job, a home, a life that at one point you could have never imagined living without him. The boy you were once completely and utterly bewitched by is now just a faint memory, a small ping in your chest when you think of how someone could hurt you so badly at such a young age. You catch his eye and smile at him, no longer angry with him. Like most things, George helped you process your anger. He couldn’t stand to see you so furious anytime you saw someone who mattered quite a bit to him. George has his moments when he hears something Ron did to you for the first time and becomes outraged, now that he loves you and everything, but he always reminds himself that its in the past.
Ron smiles back, you can tell he’s forcing it, but it’s a step in the right direction. Something tells him that he’ll never fully get over you, that part of his heart will always be in your possession. The only way he can describe his feelings whenever he’s around you anymore is blue, every shade of blue. Sometimes are better than other, a sky blue, a bit brighter but still a hint of sadness. Other times are a navy blue, complete and utter darkness. He hasn’t decided what tonight is blue-wise.
“Fred and I would like to thank you all for coming tonight.” George speaks into a microphone placed on an elevated surface in the new shop. You can’t help but admire his features, he looks so mature. “As you all know, courtesy of this bloody massive sign above our heads, this is our tenth shop to open across the continent. It feels surreal to say, eh Freddie?”
“You said it, George.” Fred replies. “Everyone in this room holds a special place in our heart, you’ve all, in your own ways, made this shop what it is today. We are so grateful to have such loyal and fantastic business partners, friends, and family.”
You want to cry, not a sad cry, but burst into tears over how far the two of them have come. When you first joined them in working at the shop, it was just a corner store on Diagon Alley, now it’s a world wide chain. You see the ins and outs of the business, knowing just how much work the two of them put into this dream. You’re able to catch George’s gaze, mouthing an I love you which he returns with a wink.
“Before we let you all get back to the party, theres one person we would like to specifically thank,” George speaks again before pointing down to you and motioning you to come up with them. You shake your head at him, not wanting to impede on the well deserved attention and praise the boys are getting. “Y/n, this isn’t an option come on up here. Alright, for those of you who don’t know this is my lovely, gorgeous, smart, talented-”
“Alright, get on with it Georgie!” Fred interrupts, making the crowd of people laugh. “I think they get the point.”
“Okay, okay.” George puts his hands up in defense. “Like I was saying, or those of you who don’t know this is Y/n. She’s better known to most of you as the lady who was stupid enough to say yes when I asked her to be my girlfriend, but she was the stores first hired employee. She has been with us for all the renovations, all the expansions and has always supported us in every hair-brained idea Freddie and I have come up with. She has since become our creative director for the company as well as held a seat on our board for, well as long as we’ve had a board. Without her, I think we might just crumble to the ground.”
“Oh stop that!” You don’t mean for it to come out so loud, but you make the crowd laugh again and your cheeks heat up. You slide in front of George to bring your mouth up to the microphone. “They’re making my role seem much larger than it is, all of this that you’ve seen over the years has very little to do with me.”
“Pay no mind to her, she’s being humble.” George retorts, and you decide to stop fighting it. “I guess what I’m trying to say is our lives, especially mine, would be a lot harder if Y/n wasn’t in it. I couldn’t think of a better place, in front of a better group of people, to ask this question.”
Before you can process his words, your boyfriend is lowering down on one knee and pulling a small box out of his pocket. You hear gasps and whistles coming from the crowd, making you turn to see Ginny with the biggest smile on her face. You look back down to George, your hands going to cover your gaping mouth. This is not real. The red haired boy opens the box to reveal a ring, a massive diamond in the center with what seemed like a dozen smaller diamonds surrounding it. So this is where all the money the shops have been making was going.
“Y/n, my dearest love,” He doesn’t even get a full sentence out and you’re already shaking. “It will never make sense to me why you said yes to being my girlfriend, but I’m hoping whatever came over you that day is over you now so you’ll say yes to this one too. Y/n, will you make the happiest bloke to every walk this earth and marry me?”
You can’t even form words, your heart feeling like it’s migrated to your throat. You can only nod and pull him up from his kneeling position to pull him into the tightest hug you’ve ever given. “Yes, yes. One thousand times yes. Georgie, I love you!”
George gives you that smile that melts you in every way and places the ring on your left finger. Ginny finally got her way. He pulls you in for a small kiss and your friends and family clap and shout with joy. You can hear Molly shouting over everyone else. Everyone in the room is clapping and celebrating but one person.
Ron’s mouth is agape, watching as you say yes to spending the rest of your life with his brother. He wants to be happy for the two of you, he wants to be able to celebrate with his family but the dull ache in his heart that has been present since the night in the common room that you told him to never say the words you just shouted to his brother turns into a sharp pain. This is the final nail on the coffin that is the hope Ron held that you would one day be together. That small glimmer dying as the ring is placed on your dainty hand. It doesn’t take long for Harry to notice the look on his best friends face, excusing himself from Ginny for a moment.
“You alright?” Harry asks quietly, careful not to draw attention to the one person in the room that isn’t happen for the newly engaged couple at the front. “Ron you have to at least pretend to be happy for them.”
Ron looks over to Harry and shakes his head. “I wish I could be happy for them mate. Everything in me wishes I had done something differently so it was me asking her that question.”
Harry is quiet for a while, watching as Ron’s face keeps the shocked and defeated look that its held since he saw his brother get on one knee. He balls his hands into fists every few minutes to keep himself from going completely numb. “You really still love her, don’t you? After all this time.”
“‘Course I fucking do.” Ron whispers, not meaning for it to come out as harsh as it did. He and Harry talk for a little while, just to keep his mind off the obvious stressor in the room, until Ginny is pulling Harry away to come and congratulate her best friend. Ron is left alone as we watches your smile, a genuine one this time, is glued to your face as you show anyone and everyone the ring. George is standing proudly beside you, holding your waist. You never look his way, too involved in sharing the most exciting moment of your life, though Ron wishes you would look over to him. He wishes he could catch your eye and sense some form of regret, then come save the day, but that never happens. Today is the darkest shade of blue imaginably, knowing for certain that your whole heart belongs to someone else. Quietly, for no one else to hear but him, he utters:
summary: your parents are keeping you away from george but you get away long enough to spend one last night with him. a short fic inspired by ridebylana del rey & a scene between spencer and toby in pretty little liars.
warnings: angst, alludes to sex, mentions of death, readers family are death eaters.
notes: pictures used are from pinterest and all credit goes to the owners. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS.
“I am alone in the night Been tryin’ hard not to get into trouble, but I I’ve got a war in my mind.”
The hotel room was dull, the furniture basic. George could feel the springs of the mattress against the backs of his thighs but that was the least of his worries tonight. He was agitated - it felt like his heart was in his throat. Someone ran down the hall outside, giggling to themselves.
He’d given up, a despondent soul alone in the night. Alone. He could taste the anger, the disappointment rising up his throat. He’d talked himself into trying one more time - one last chance, the owl had flew, his desperate letter tied to it’s leg - but she hadn’t turned up then and she wasn’t turning up now.
He remembered a day back at Hogwarts - she’d dared him to run into the lake and then ended up running in after him, splashing him until his clothes stuck to his skin. He’d do anything to get that girl back - so carefree and lively.
It was a shock when the door clicked, his head rising from his hands. George didn’t want to look, didn’t want to have to swallow back his hope when it turned out to be some drunken partygoer, stumbling into the wrong room but then he heard the weak hoarseness of her voice, calling him back into the spell she had on him. “George.” He turned.
In their last year at Hogwarts, Jordan teaches George how to braid properly, by letting him practice on his own hair.
He wants to learn how to impress Angelina.
Her mom, a Muggle, used to do it for her without magic.
He remembers her saying this and he wants to surprise her.
He’s not too bad at first but can tell Jordan’s trying not hurt his feelings when he starts gripping the sheets of his bed tightly.
Fred tried once. He never tries again.
By Thanksgiving he can do the basics quickly and neatly, so Jordan teaches him how to do fancier things like corn-rows, goddess braids, box braids, etc.
He shows him other things, like silk scarves that protect the curls and products that she might like.
On Christmas Eve he surprises Angelina by braiding her hair. It’s a little messy because his hands are shaking and her hair is longer than Jordan’s.
It’s not perfect, but she snogs him senseless and her eyes get misty because it’s the sweetest thing someone’s ever done for her.
On Christmas she opens the present of silk scarves, hair masks and other products that Jordan helped him pick out.
It becomes a habit, even after Hogwarts, that he braids her hair before all her Quidditch matches. She says it brings her luck.
When she starts living with the Twins and Jordan, she shows him how to tie up her hair with the scarves before bed.
When she’s sick he braids, unbraids and rebraids her hair until she falls asleep.
She tries braiding his hair once when it’s still long, and it turns out hilarious. She cuts it for him afterwards in the Muggle way. Fred uses magic to make his look the same.
When Fred II is born George helps him learn to braid using his mother’s hair. He wants to know why his dad is teaching him this and that’s how they tell him he’s getting a little sister.
A/ N- i was very seriously considering having the two of them break up but we have gone through enough :’) yall deserve a happy ending so here it is i love u muah
June 1st, the last day of fourth year for y/n. Today she was accompanied by George Weasley at the black lake (a popular spot for the duo) for their last day of the year together. The two hadn’t labeled themselves as ‘boyfriend and girlfriend’, it was deeper than that, they felt. Their hearts just belonged to each other, and everyone knew it. They’d been inseparable since the night of the yule ball where they spent the night at the astronomy tower, exchanging early vows and promising their young lives to one another. Stupid, young love. When you’re young and immature you grow up and grow apart from the ones you say you’ll be with forever, but experience is healthy and forever isn’t as long as most people would like it to be. Forever is a lie, and y/n and George had come to terms with it. Their forever was spent cherishing their youth together.
“My love?” George muttered, looking down at their entwined fingers, his playing with the rings on hers. He looked at the matching ones on his.
Her eyelids fluttered at his soft words before looking up at him. “Hm?”
It was hard for him to speak. The whole day for George had been spent trying not to cry at the thought of having to leave her side soon. He nervously tried to get his question out.
Her hand left his and lifted his chin up to look at her.
“Would you like to visit me this summer?” Her soft eyes melted his heart and his words came out easier.
This detail of their relationship had developed over the course of finals. George had been stressed beyond belief while y/n helped him study. He would ruffle his hair in frustration and rub tears from his eyes until they were red. The first time he did it, y/n placed her hands on his over his eyes and moved them. Her face would be closer to his and she’d look into his eyes and tell him he was going to do wonderful. They’d look into each other’s eyes until he’d calmed down and she started giggling, causing him to laugh. Her eyes were a safe haven for him, he was comfortable.
His question about visiting him over the summer made her heart race as she struggled to compose herself. “I’d love nothing more. Maybe sneaking out at night will be easier somewhere smaller.” She laughed.
He didn’t notice how lit up his face was, as he was too focused on hers. He didn’t even think before he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her with every ounce of love he’d given her every single day since the Yule Ball. She would be asking his parents for every embarrassing story of him, and he would be beginning his blessing speech for her father.
Sirius telling stories about his time at hogwarts to Fred and George during the summer spent in grimauld place in book five
Fred: do you have any stories about good parties?
Sirius: oh yeah loads. My favourite one is about James’s 16th birthday. So the party was going great. I’m standing in the common room and I’m holding a fire whisky bottle, you’ve been to the hogs head. And I’m standing there, and I’m holding a firewhiskey and I’m starting to black out. And I guess someone said like: “something, something McGonagall!” And in a brilliant moment of word association I yelled “fuck McGonagall!” “Fuck Mcgonagall!"And everyone else joined in.
A hundred drunk white children yelling: "fuck Mcgonagall” with the confidence of guys who have like already been to azkaban And aren’t afraid of it anymore. You know that like “I served my time, you come and take me” confidence.
But white children the reason someone had said: “Something, something Mcgonagall” was because Mcgonagall were there. So she walked through the portrait hole and looked out over a sea of drunk toddlers yelling “Fuck Mcgonagall” in her face
And she was almost impressed. She was like: “wow”
And then she cast a patronus and told it: “get the the other teachers”. And James, who was a father, this man had a baby, he grabbed a butterbeer, smashed it on the ground, and yelled “scatter!”
But everyone ran in a different direction. We all ran in different directions. It was like in the great hall when the slytherins come in the room and all the other students go in different ways.
We all ran in different directions. I ran out of the common room and I jumped into a secret passage that led me to the second floor and I crawled through a window and jumped down onto the grass and now I’m running through the greenhouses and there’s this big devil’s snare.
And I thought “I’ve never dealt with a devil’s snare that big before.” And then I woke up in my dorm.
a/n: this is for a fem!reader but if anyone wants a male!reader for a certain character, send me an ask!
Harry
You become good friends with Hermione after she helps you study for a test. She invites you to come and sit with her at dinner, where you meet Harry for the first time. Obviously, you had heard of him before and you thought he was cute but you had never spoken until then. He was super awkward because he thought you were very pretty. You start spending more time with them and eventually Harry becomes more comfortable around you. One day, Hermione and Ron were off on their own, leaving you and Harry together. He tells you about his feelings for you and you confess you feel the same and ask him to be your boyfriend.
Ron
Ron noticed you first, sitting across from him in class during first year. Being at first shy and timid, he admired you from afar. But one day, after confessing his feelings to Harry, Harry slips some liquid luck into Ron’s drink, giving him the courage to ask you on a date. Of course, you say yes and eventually began dating.
Hermione
When you first saw Hermione, you knew you wanted to be her friend, but you were too shy to speak to her. In class, you were always impressed with her knowledge and wished to know more about her. Whenever you saw her across the room, your stomach would flip. Sometimes you would catch her looking at you and feel your cheeks heat up. Eventually, you realised it wasn’t that you wanted to be her friends, but her girlfriend. You had never thought about they fact that you could like girls, but it didn’t feel wrong. One day, you pluck up the courage to speak to her, complimenting her and making her laugh. You start to become good friends, and surprisingly, she makes the first move. She kisses you and when you kiss back, she asks you to be her girlfriend.
Fred
It started in 3rd year, when he watched you prank someone. From then on, he wanted you so badly. His way of flirting was to play harmless pranks and jokes on you and you would prank him back. You were so used to his jokes that when he kissed you, you thought it was another one of them. But he told you it wasn’t and that he was falling in love with you. After a while of convincing, eventually you believed him when he asked you to be his girlfriend.
George
George had quietly fancied you for a few months when Fred noticed the way he looked at you. Fred vowed to be George’s wingman and get you to fall in love with him, so Fred would often talk to you, telling you funny stories about George to make sure you knew the best bits of him. It didn’t take long for you to figure out what was going on. “Hey, Fred, can you be my wingman?” You asked. Fred seemed worried. “Why, who do you like?” He asked. “George.”
Perchance a Parchment (George Weasley x Reader) - Part 6
Harry Potter - George Weasley x fem!Reader
Wordcount: 2.6k
Series Summary: One last shot to save the business is the bit of energy needed to accept the inevitable, and forgive a couple Weasleys along the way. Is friendship possible with the enemy? And is love possible with the mysterious man behind your letters?
A/N: So sorry for the infinite detail. I got pregnant, gave birth, and now I’m back on my bullshit.
The day of the Story Extravaganza came more quickly than you liked, though there was not really much more you could do to pack the day with fun for your customers. Discount book shelves lined the street outside your front door (with the permission of the neighboring businesses) and inside was a stage where authors came and read from their favorite works, their newest manuscripts, and their unpublished pieces that might never see the light of day. It was stimulating, exciting, and completely packed. And more important than anything to you, the sea of faces was mostly ones you recognized— the mother and son who come ever week to story time to get a break from the newborn at home, the older couple who lived above the shop several doors down who made a habit of picking out new reads for each other, the ministry workers who frequently browsed during lunch with teas in hand and work chatter still on their lips. Everywhere you turned was a reminder of the positive impact your shop had on the community, and the frequent thank yous from the lips of your clients only made you beam with pride.
In all the hubbub, sales and profits were the furthest things from your mind. Enjoying the swell of enthusiasm and letting the feeling of community and passion overwhelm you was the only goal. After the break up with Tom, feelings had been less than positive. If the pile of empty pumpkin pasty wrappers beside your bed and the collection of sappy romance novels filling the space Tom once laid were any indication, you were not handling things well. But it wasn’t for love and loss than you felt down. It was for the understanding that change was here and on the horizon still. Come tomorrow, come next week, come a moon’s turn from now your life would be rebuilt into something you couldn’t predict or understand. And mourning, even if over something inevitable, still takes energy.
Tom had made a stop into the shop the night before to wish you good luck. His broom was probably somewhere over the Swiss alps now, well on its way to Egypt. His luggage would be coming days behind but you knew Tom would do just fine with the clothes on his back, as long as he had work to distract him. The image of him deep in a tomb, decoding ruins and diving into histories, warmed your heart. He was a good man, just not your man, and that was okay.
The letters with Rhubarb had resumed over the course of the week, mostly as an errant place to put your thoughts on paper as you tried to organize the big event. Who would blame you for being weary of putting your heart out there for a man who stood you up? But each response you received was supportive, thoughtful, honest, and caring— the same exact man you fell for before that night at the restaurant. Being restrained was proving difficult because with each passing day you were feeling more powerful, more secure, more bold. If you could get through the fall of your business and the fall of your relationship, you knew you could endure any rejection Rhubarb might send your way.
A poet just finished a recitation of romantic verse and a guitarist was taking the stage to sing through some of his children’s songs that were featured in a new collection of picture books when you felt a tap of your shoulder.
“Not to ruin your lovely day, but I thought you’d want to know the Weasleys arrived,” Patty whispered in your ear, gesturing with her head to the front window display where three red-haired men stood together examining a stand filled with books you selected as perfect books for new beginnings.
Your stomach dropped, but not in anger like you expected. It was the empty feeling right before butterflies form. And when the closer of the two twins turned to look at you, your eyes met and the butterflies began their flutter in earnest.
“God, do I have to be so attracted to the villain here?”
“I don’t think you meant to say that out loud,” Patty laughed, pulling your attention back to her. “They don’t seem to be here to make trouble. This is an event for the community and like it or not, their part of the Diagon Alley community, probably for good.”
She didn’t have to finish the thought. You put on your brightest saleswoman smile and began to walk over to the brothers who were sharing a laugh and seemed completely in their element among your crowded establishment.
It had been your intent to talk to George, maybe ever apologize for the other night at the restaurant — not that you regretted it — but the taller, more low-key of the men intercepted her.
“You must be Y/N,” the man outstretched his hand to shake. “Bill Weasley. It’s truly a lovely shop you have here. My brother George hasn’t stopped talking about it since he stopped in a few weeks ago.”
You took the outstretched hand without hesitation.
“Your brothers have a funny way of showing it, Bill.”
He drops your hand as he laughs. “They’re young and dumb, just two kids who started a business out of their dorm room, selling illegal treats to industrious first years. I think sometimes they still feel like teenagers, just trying not to get caught by their professors.”
There’s a fondness in Bill’s gaze as he looks back at his brothers that doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Aren’t we all just playing at adulthood, really,” you say more to yourself than Bill, “I wish someone would have told us we’d be just as directionless and confused and uncertain in our twenties as we were in our teens, just with higher stakes and even higher expectations.”
Bill nods, almost as though he wanted you to say just that.
He steps a little closer to you as a group of customers move past to take seats for the next performance. Bill uses the movement as an excuse to whisper.
“I also have to say it’s a pleasure not just to see the shop George won’t shut up about, but also to meet the woman he can’t stop talking about either.”
Your eyebrows raise so high that Bill lets out a gruff snicker.
“That tongue-lashing you gave him the other day made quite the impression. I think the boy is smitten.”
“I called him a soulless miser with no conscience and you’re telling me he doesn’t hate me?” The cynicism in your voice is ripe and Bill smiles.
“My brother has never been one to leg it from a little conflict. An honest kick in the arse is probably the best thing you could have done to win his admiration.”
It’s a long moment of silence between you as you look over Bill’s shoulder and observe his brother. George had a smile on his face at something Fred had said and had roped another one of your customers into their conversation. This was his element, making a comfortable environment in relative chaos. You had to admit you admired him, too, even if he was the primary reason you were in this mess.
Though that was the problem, wasn’t it— blaming the Weasleys for your failing business. It wasn’t true. If they hadn’t taken the lease offer, someone else would have. You were struggling, you had to admit that to yourself, and as much as you valued your mission, you knew profits were never high enough to warrant such a valuable storefront. No, George Weasley wasn’t the problem, he was just a symbol of a ton of other problems you weren’t willing to saddle yourself with the guilt of. George Weasley was a person— handsome and charismatic and funny and the person taking over your lease. That last one was just a fact, not a failing.
You took a deep breath and willed yourself to walk past Bill to tap the rust-haired enchanter on the shoulder. When he turned around, his eyes were wide but his smile sure.
“Y/N, I know I have no right to be in your store after that… encounter we shared last week, but we wanted to show our support. We know it’s probably a little too late, but it’s clear you’ve made something special here. It deserves our attention.”
His voice was light and rushed, nervous maybe despite his confident posture. It somehow fit him, this combination of boyish uncertainty and manly confidence.
You stuck your hand out to George and made your back straight.
“George Weasley, consider this a peace offering, a treaty between our shops.”
“And what have I done to earn such an offer?” George asked, staring at your hand.
It took you a moment to realize what whiplash it must be for him. One week you are screaming at him to leave you alone and the next you are offering your arm. But the trust is a lot can change in a week.
“You did nothing. It’s me who did something.”
“And what might that be?”
A smile grazed your lips as you looked up into his shining brown eyes, the same color as the rich woods that paneled the walls of your shop, the color of comfort, warmth and home.
“I gave up fighting. I’m accepting life as it comes, warts and all.”
George’s lips spread into a beautiful smiling, paralleling your own.
“I can shake to that,” he said, taking my hand in his warm palm and collapsing tight. When we let go, his eyes dropped down to his feet and the nervous boy was back once more.
“You know, if we aren’t fighting anymore, perhaps, maybe, we could even be friends.” When he looked up again his eyes found mine, honest and pure.
“I… I think I could consider that.”
This third smile is such a change from the previous two. It’s brightness is contagious. And when one of the authors taps me on the shoulder to ask about her signing slot, the energy consumes you again, this time more powerful for the healing power of letting things go.
As George left your store, having purchased a few books from your recommendations shelf, a few for him and one for his mother, he felt lighter than he had all week. He had a plan now and it seemed like it might actually work.
“So explain to me now why we just went in there and acted like we aren’t public enemy number one?” Fred asked as they began down the road to their shop.
“Because I’m trying something new on for size.”
“What’s that?”
“Friendship.”
He said it with such earnestness that Fred had to stop walking immediately.
“You’re completely head-over-heels in love with this woman and you’re trying to just be her friend?”
George sighed and leaned against the wall where Fred stopped.
“She can’t love George, not yet, but she can love Rhubarb. Until we can love both of us, I don’t really have another option,” George said, looking down at his hand, the one you had shook, with a smile. “I’m going to be there for her. That’s all I can do. And if Rhubarb is busy wooing her on the side for me, then so be it.”
“You don’t feel bad just lying. Like you know. You know who she is and you just aren’t going to say anything?” George’s smile fell as Fred’s questioning but Bill placed a hand on his shoulder in support.
“When it comes to matters of the heart, sometimes you need space to heal. George is giving Y/N space. When they’re ready, they’ll know. But one thing I can say is that when I told her you fancied her, the look on her face was surprisingly not disgusted.”
“Real encouraging, Bill,” George sighed.
“It was as far from disgust as it could be, little brother. It was… hopeful.”
George nodded slow, processing Bill’s words, “I’ve lost her trust but I’ve got hope. I’m not fighting these feelings. I’m not fighting my faults. I’m… I’m going to be here if and when she wants me.”
Fred laughed and started his walking again, “That’s romantic and all that, but damn is it foolish. You two just need to pull each other behind some stakes and have the proper angry make-out you both desire.”
George scowled at his twin hard, “I’d much prefer a blissful make-out, one where she can’t keep the smile off her lips.”
“Suit yourself. Hate sex can be hot.”
“And hate sex happens only once.”
“I don’t think we’ve made so much money in a month, let alone a day!,” Patty laughs as she closes out the register. “You’d think we were selling elixir of life, not novels, at this rate.”
“In some ways we are. Stories let you live a million lives.”
“Enough with your poetics and just be happy we’ve got the cash to cover the rent.”
“It doesn’t matter,” you say as you plop down on your favorite chair, ignoring the insane mess of empty shelves and slightly askew furniture. “The landlord stopped in during the puppet show. He said there was no amount of money we could pay to keep our lease. He’d rather a tenant he doesn’t have to worry about— his words.”
Patricia drops a pile of coins back into the drawer. “Merlin’s beard, what an ass.”
You simply shrug, “Is it bad that I’m over it?”
“No, it’s bad that you had to go through all of this to get to the point that you’re over it.”
Patty came to sit beside you, throwing her own head against the chair with a sigh.
“I think it’s for the best. This was fun. We made something good, and now we move on,” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt, trying to will the tears away. You knew this was coming and you honestly accepted it, but that didn’t make it hurt less.
“You’ll figure something out. You always do.”
Just then, the cracked door flies open the rest of the wall, the hard flapping wings of an owl loudly filling your room. Diomedes comes to sit on your shoulder, a scroll tied securely to his leg.
Cherry,
I hope today brought with you joy, fulfillment, a feeling of love, and most importantly closure to you. You put your heart and soul into making something that mattered to people and now you got to see it all together, all at once, all on one day. I’m in awe of you, your dedication, your forgiveness, and your love. It’s truly something remarkable and I hope you know that.
I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’m not sure I’ve much else to say other than that whatever this next chapter is for you, I hope I can somehow be a part of it if you’ll let me. Next time you want to meet, I promise to be there. I’m not fighting anymore.
Rhubarb
Something in the phrasing of that last sentence struck you as oddly familiar but that feeling fled as quickly as it came. You weren’t ready to meet again — to trust would take some time — but you’d get there, of that you were sure. One big life change at a time.book
