George Weasley was part of a selected big group of friends, with its honorary members being Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and his little brother Ron.
The lads weren’t official members because of the age gap — it was rare the moments where they could hang mid-classes. But it didn’t bother Fred, Lee and Angelina to have the little guys around.
There was another girl too, who George saw as much more of an official member than an honorary one. [y/n] [y/ln] was younger than him but older than his little brother — she was from the year between the two. They became friends entirely by accident — she got caught up on a prank not intended for her and after a not-so-much friendly match of Quidditch where she played gracefully and not at all vengeful, the twins talked her into being part of the friend group.
One could’ve said [y/n] was the one most outof the group, but, surprisingly, she managed well around them. She became very close to Angelina, and she had openly called Fred her very best mate once. Even when Potter was around, she never acted as a “fangirl” — and she noticeably picked Ron over Harry tons of times.
They were all together one afternoon, playing card games in the grass by the Lake when Fred had an idea: steal food from the house-elves.
[y/n] was immediately into it. “We have to be quick then because it’s almost supper time, and they’ll be all up to our arses if they catch us by that time,” she said, getting up and leaving her deck of cards to Angelina to handle.
Ron got up quickly too, ready to follow the girl wherever she went. Fred just smile. “Anyone else for our road trip?” asked the older twin.
“It’s hardly a road trip,” opined Angelina, before winning against Hermione and starting the game again.
Since no one else got up, the three left. George and Lee drew closer to the two girls left, anxious to see if Hermione could beat Angelina, but chances were the Quidditch player was going to win again.
“Has anyone noticed Ron’s fancying [y/n]?” asked Hermione, who had smelled it in the air, way before anyone else, but she just wanted to be sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks.
Lee snorted at the question, trying not to shame-laugh. He hadn’t only noticed Ron’s crush — he noticed Hermione’s too. Angelina simply smiled and kept playing the card game, but George spoke up.
“I dunno how it ends, but [y/n] will for sure be part of my fam,” he said, laughing it off.
“How so?” asked Hermione, tensing up a bit, which allowed Angelina some advantage in the game.
“Well, Ron fancies her; she fancies Fred and Fred…. well, I reckon that bloke hasn’t pashed anyone, that’s for sure,” George replied. “Either Fred falls for her or she falls for Ron, but she’ll end up a Weasley, alright.”
Lee elbowed the redheaded.
“She’ll end up your sister,” he laughed.
“In-law,” added George, suddenly wanting to make sure [y/n] was not blood-related to him.
Angelina and Lee exchanged knowing looks, but Hermione and George were oblivious to the exchange. George was inside his wee world, thinking why it bothered him to acknowledge [y/n] as a sister, and Hermione was wishful thinking that Fred could bloody well fancy [y/n] right away.
The match went on, with Angelina winning that turn and then Lee taking Hermione’s place and losing too — the difference was Lee didn’t care and laughed his loss away. George wanted to play too, but when his turn finally came, Fred, Ron and [y/n] arrived with the stolen food.
“Hey, I wanna go back to my match,” said [y/n], sitting down next to Angelina, who remained unbeatable. “Who’s the winner?”
“Who would you reckon?” replied Lee, smiling. [y/n] liked his smirk, it felt sparkling in the twilight.
“Angie,” [y/n] smiled too as she spoke.
“No worries — I’ve been playing non-stop and George hasn’t had his turn,” Angelina said, moving away from the card pile. “Take my place,” offered the Quidditch chaser.
[y/n] took the offer, and looked straight at George. He had a playful smile, which only increased when he reached the pile and started shuffling the cards for the new game.
In the background, George heard Ron asking Hermione if Harry showed up, and the bookworm replied with a “no”. The younger twin wasn’t facing Ron, but he could visualize the frown on his face. Harry Potter was chosen to be a Triwizard champion, which meant he was generally never free and around — but also, his friendship with Ron was a bit rocky at the moment.
George reverted his focus on [y/n].
“Get ready to eat grass, Weasley,” the girl said.
“We’ll see,” responded George, feeling his grin widen.
[y/n] was late, which meant Fred and George were late too. They planned a quick trip to Hogsmeade, but they were going “illegally” and if [y/n] took a minute longer to get ready, Fred swore he was gonna leave her behind.
“I’m here!” she whispered and shouted, at the same time. George wondered how she managed that.
“You’re late,” the younger twin said, messing with her.
“Just five minutes,” she pointed out, checking her wristwatch.
“Could well mean the difference between getting caught,” George continued.
“Stop, you two,” said Fred, but he knew very well all the bickering came from his twin. George hadn’t found his way around flirting women, and it showed — Fred knew he had to do something about it, but it’d need to be later. At the moment, he only sought to get to Hogsmeade.
“She started it,” said George, defending himself.
“How could I?” she inquired, startled.
“By showing up late,” he answered, frowning his brows.
Fred rolled his eyes and decided not to meddle. They could figure it out for themselves. The older twin, then, took the front of the little voyage group and led them to the secret passageway. The trio went through that one-eyed old crone’s hump, and soon they were in the dark corridor that would lead them away from Hogwarts.
Fred and George had to lean their backs, so they wouldn’t smack their heads, but [y/n] could go most of the way just fine and stretch. She had been there three times before, but it was never easy being in that dim and smelly place.
She didn’t even notice when she edged nearer George Weasley until he offered her his arm. Furthermore, she looked at it, suspiciously, before accepting.
They had a complicated relationship. They were always quarrelling, like too foolish kids that couldn’t possibly like the opposite gender. It was always stupid, but [y/n] couldn’t avoid it — it seemed so nice to bicker with George because then he would look at her sideways and provocatively grin and that usually made her smile too.
She had a thing for Fred from the first moment she learned his name. It had been some girl in her class had been ranking the most handsome blokes of Hogwarts, and when [y/n] asked who was Fred Weasley and why he was in twenty-second place, her classmate smiled and asked: “Why? Do you think he should be higher up?”. [y/n] didn’t think that, of course. At eleven years of age, she barely thought of boys that way, especially the ones one year older, who seemed so much more mature back then. But later she was engrossed in one of the twins’ pranks, and Fred presented himself.
Tall, even for a twelve-year-old, and with beautiful freckles in his cheeks — [y/n] didn’t need much more thinking; she knew she had become a woman, and she was ready to have that man.
They became friends later on, and even though [y/n] never made advances towards Fred, she never tried to stop fancying him either. It just felt natural to have a crush, a since Fred was right there and available, she took him.
Of course, she went out with other boys, specifically last year when she had just turned fourteen, but it never felt quite right. Not even as right as studying with Hermione, not as right as relying on Ronald, and definitelynot as right as bickering with George.
It felt nicer to argue with George than to kiss Oliver Wood! she remembered, in a sudden thought in the middle of the ill-lit hallway. Her expression changed, worrying George, but since she stayed in silence, he did the same.
Oliver had been [y/n]’s first kiss, and even though he was very gentle and kind — even nowadays — the only thing he taught her was that she was better off single.
“We’re almost there, I reckon,” said Fred, having to rely on his memory to keep marshalling. He didn’t regret having given Harry his map, but sometimes, he felt nostalgic for it.
The passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. [y/n] and George followed just behind, still with their arms intertwined. George didn’t want to think what that gesture possibly meant, and he didn’t have to — they had ended up right into the cellar of Honeydukes.
“This passage remains safe, thank Merlin,” Fred thought out loud, which made [y/n] repress a laugh. She then remembered to let go of George’s arm, since she was back in the light, but her arms felt empty without his there.
They didn’t longer around Honeydukes — their plan was to go to the joke shop and get new supplies, and thenceforth go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks. The candy store was barely empty, so their exit had to be a bit theatrical so no one would suspect a thing.
Zonko’s shop called the boys’ attention as soon as the three of them stepped outside Honeydukes, and [y/n] had to hush to follow them. The store was striking, the girl had to give in. Its walls, covered with shelves, loaded not only with Dungbombs and Hiccough Sweets, but also Frog Spawn Soap, Sugar Quills, and Nose-Biting Teacups. No wonder the boys loved to shop there.
“So, Fred, what’s it that you guys are looking for to stock?” [y/n] leaning against the shelf that Fred was so meticulously observing.
The red-headed looked down at her for only a second and smiled.
“A bit of everything, I suppose,” he replied.
George appeared from behind [y/n] and the shelf, scaring her with a nudge. She, at least, managed not to scream. It wasn’t late yet, only twilight, but the stored seemed umbra, which gave the toys up on the shelves a different glow. Macabre, [y/n] determined.
“Never, ever, do that again, do you understand?” she threatened George, but the twin only giggled.
“Come with me, [y/l/n],” said George, eyeing the back of the corridor he was in. “You’re gonna like this.”
Fred tried really hard not to smile at his twin taking an initiative, while [y/n] followed.
George waited until [y/n] was right next to him and offered his arm again. There was really no official reason for it — even though it was starting to be dusk outside, the shop still had light enough for the girl not to feel scared, but he liked being of use.
[y/n] accepted his arm with biting of lips, suddenly feeling very nervous with the interaction. Could she like George? She wondered, innocently. He was a nice lad, for sure. He was also a tiny bit taller than Fred, and she did like tallboys. But he’s very annoying, she reminded herself. He’s always teasing you in a non-lovable way.
“Do you know Ronniekins has a devotion for you?”
George plumped the question, smirking in taunting.
“Ronniekins?Ron?” she asked, stunned.
[y/n] didn’t even bother with George’s smile. She cared for Ron, a lot since she confided in him most of the time, but if the lad was messing things up… she would need to take a stand, and she wouldn’t like it.
“Yep,” affirmed George. “He developed some sort of crush on you; I can’t speak anything in your concern without being scolded.”
“That’s nice of him,” she tried to smile, attempting to make the best out of the situation, but she just couldn’t. “Oh… But if he really does fancy me… I’ll have to say something, right? I don’t wanna lead him on.”
“To be honest, I think even if you actually stare him down and say: ‘Ronald Weasley, I do not fancy you and I don’t want to kiss you’, he will still hold on to hope,” George told her, pressing his arm against her harder. He wanted to comfort her, and he didn’t even fully comprehend why.
[y/n] was an enjoyable lassie and, even though he messed with her all the time, he liked to be around her. But did he like likebeing around her? Oh, Merlin… He couldn’t. His younger brother loved her, his older brother was the object of her affection. He did not want or wish to be in the middle of it. As a matter of fact, he liked to mock the situation from the outside. She’s a future sister-in-law, he told himself, but it felt wrong in his mind. She’s part of the family, he pondered again, and that phrase felt easier, which was a relief.
The girl in question watched George’s expression, as it tensed and relaxed, and she wondered if he was worried about his little brother. That’s sweet of him, she thought.
They finally stopped in front of a shelf filled with candy bars, but George remained silent and did not explain why they stopped there.
“George?” she called his attention. “What do you think I should do?”
His eyes stared down at her, thoughtfully. He truly wanted to help her, even if it meant walking her down the aisle to his twin.
“Well, you don’t fancy him, do you? I reckon it’s another brother of mine you have your eyes on,” he said, out loud this time. For some reason, he felt like he needed to know. He needed to know if she still had a thing for Fred. Or even for Ron, if the tables had turned.
[y/n] avoided George’s eyes. How could he have found out about her wee crush on Fred? She sure wasn’t being self-evident, was she?
But even so, if she were obvious, what was she supposed to answer? She most definitely was not going to confess, especially because her feelings have been shifting a lot. Fred was her best mate. Yeah, she knew they would match just fine if it were Fred to ask her out, but did she want it? Did she yearnto be Fred’s companion?
“I don’t fancy Ron, obviously,” she answered, finally, after a while pondering how to phrase her feelings. “And I don’t know what you mean about brothers of yours.”
George snorted. “Okay then.”
He decided it was for the best if he just remained quiet and did not bother her about it any longer. She didn’t want to answer, and, honestly, he didn’t wanna hear it. So he faced the shelf he had directed her towards and picked one of the candy bars.
She breathed a sigh of relief that he had dropped the previous matter, and asked: “I didn’t know Zonko’s shop sold candy.”
“Not any proper candy,” he replied. “This is a special one.”
“Really? How so?”
George gave her the candy bar, so she could analyse it, but, as he very well knew, there was nothing in its packaging that revealed its true content.
“They provoke emotions, different ones, but always strong ones,” George explained, taking back the bar from her hands. “This one, for instance, is for decisive moments. See here?” he pointed to a very small font where it could be read: “you want the courage to do what you most long to? This is for you!”
“Why would someone eat something like this?”
“Various reasons,” George shrugged before taking another candy bar from the rack. “This one is for knowledge. Suppose you have a test tomorrow — this could be your salvation.”
[y/n] took the second bar from his hands and analysed it herself. “Only if I know the test’s subjects beforehand, you mean,” she said, returning him the candy bar. “If you haven’t studied, this won’t be much help.”
“It will be somehelp,” said George.
“Right,” [y/n] snorted.
“Anyway, it’s practically not much of use nowadays. Professor Snape found a way to perceive it in your organism with a special potion,” he explained, but he didn’t place the bar back in its place. He held still the two candy bars and led [y/n] to the cashier.
“You know you’re buying the courage one, right?” she whispered in his ear before Fred could reach them in the cashier line.
George smiled.
“You are the one buying it,” he corrected her. “After all, you’ll need it to talk to Ron.”
[y/n] let out some air from her throat, completely frustrated. She knew she didn’t fancy Ron, at least, so she should talk to him. Perhaps the candy bar was going to be of some use.
“What are you two buying?” asked Fred, having absolutely no free space in his arms. He had a bit of everything — Dungbombs, Frog Spawn Soap, Nose-Biting Teacups and more that [y/n] wasn’t able to name.
“Magic Bars,” the girl answered, looking up to meet Fred’s eyes. It was only then she realized she still held George’s arm, so she instantly let it go — but not before Fred couldn’t notice.
“Oh, so you can be brave enough to break up with Ronniekins?” asked Fred, smirking.
The girl looked shocked. “Oh, come on! Everyone knew?”
The twins only laugh it out.
Knowing that Ron was going to arrive at any moment at the Three Broomsticks with the rest of the gang, [y/n] popped the candy bar and ate it all at once, only stopping for a sip of butterbeer to make it all easier to let out. George watched, surprised, but offered his own comment: “I don’t think you needed to have eaten it all.”
She sniffed. “Could have informed me that earlier, couldn’t you?”
Fred just smirked, amused with the scenario. He took the opportunity to corner his twin when going to get more butterbeers at the counter, leaving [y/n] alone on the table.
“So… now that she’s breaking up with Ron, when are you gonna tell her you fancy her?”
George’s eyes widened, staring at his twin with disbelief.
“What? You’re gonna pretend you don’t like the lass?”
“[y/n]’s a friend,” George answered, sharply.
“Right…”
They ordered the butterbeers and waited, avoiding staring at each other. Fred didn’t want to keep laughing at his twin, and George didn’t want to confess something he wasn’t entirely sure.
Could he fancy [y/n]? No, he answered mentally. She fancied Fred, and he always promised not to come between his twin’s girls. Because, if ever [y/n] decided to hit on Fred, he knew his twin wasn’t going to be able to resist. She was just like that, and she never even noticed — if she wanted a guy, she’d have him. And the day she’d claim Fred would come, and George would be left to watch the two love birds.
“Seriously, now,” started Fred, handing the butterbeers, “why don’t to come clean with her?”
George sighed. “I have nothing to clean. Do I like her? Yes. Do I think she’s pretty? Yep. But we’re better off as mates, or better saying, bickering mates,” answered him, finally.
Fred decided to say nothing more. George would eventually realize on his own that he like [y/n] and, when that day arrived, Fred could finally beam saying “told you so”.
They sat back at their places, noticing the small crowd on their table. Ron, Hermione, Angelina, Lee and (the big surprise of the night) Harry Potter had arrived, and they were talking jubilantly about the upcoming ball they had been hearing whispers about.
George sat between [y/n] and Ron purposefully, and [y/n] sighed in relief while staring at George.
“Hasn’t it had any effect yet?” asked George, referring to the candy. [y/n] just shook her head. “It will happen soon.”
She wished he was right.
The two of them got caught up on the table talk, adding their own remarks and desires for the party. [y/n] didn’t add much too aloud, though — she was afraid Ron could say something about them going together.
Suddenly, she felt a kick inside her. The candy bar! she thought, anxiously. She stared at Ron from behind George and gesture for them to go out. She needed to say it, once and for all.
George watched as the two of them left, but he didn’t make a comment.
“So much for [y/n] marrying Fred…” Lee said aloud.
“Me?” asked Fred, confused and frowning. Lee laughed and Angelina tried to ease Fred, mostly for [y/n]’s sake, then for the red haired’s.
George kept staring at the door as if wishing the conversation ran out faster if he did so. Lee nudged George.
“Is she kissing him?”
“Ew, no,” George replied. “She wanted to talk him outof his feelings,” he continued. “She even ingested one of the Magic Bars for courage.”
“Those are never a good idea,” said Hermione, meddling.
“Why?” asked Lee, genuinely curious. He often liked those candy bars.
“Well, it gives you the kicks to do what you most long for. Not necessarily a good thing if what you most long for is to kill someone, for instance,” she explained. Hermione, then, shrugged, knowing [y/n] was not about to kill Ron, but suggesting that what she most longed for might not be “end things” with Ron.
George pondered Hermione’s words. What could be the thing [y/n] most ached for, and could the magical candy bar really help?
He had no more time to think as the door from the Three Broomsticks opened once again, but only Ron came in. He had some of a tired look on his face, and that worried George. Not for his younger brother, but for [y/n].
George got up and left, leaving a confused Lee behind. Angelina and Fred exchanged looks before smirking — both sharing a secret of what had happened.
“Never again make me ingest one of those bars, are you hearing me?” [y/n] said as soon as she faced George, in on dark space between Three Broomstick and the next store next to it.
“What happened?” George asked, stupefied.
“Nothing, of course, and how could it? With Ron?” she laughed it off. “I just told him something about him being the little brother I never had and how I saw him grow up so fast. He understood the message.”
George waited, but she said nothing more. “So, what’s the matter?”
“I want to be touched, Georgie!” she exclaimed, surprising herself. She covered her mouth, a little too late, but it was the least she could. Had she really told George she wanted to be touched? Had he understood the length of her words?
George froze, giving [y/n] the time to gather her thoughts. He looked very handsome in the half-light coming from the establishment next door, and [y/n] enumerated how many freckles he had on his face. There were more than Fred’s, and George’s were more intensely gathered on his nose. The twin noted the girl’s fierce inspection and cleared his throat.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone almost gruff as he felt completely exposed in the dim light of the Hogsmeade night.
“I’m counting your freckles,” she replied truthfully. It wasn’t the candy effect — she really wanted to be honest, because that was how she was around George. [y/n] never thought before talking when she was with the younger Weasley twin, unlike when she was around Fred or even Oliver Wood.
“Why?” George questioned in a whisper. It was like he was afraid to speak.
“Because…” [y/n] didn’t have a “why”. She wanted to, so she counted. She wanted to come closer to him, so she did. Moreover, she longed for his touch, and that terrified her. “I wanna kiss you.”
Her voice was barely a whisper, but it felt very loud in both of their ears.
What? George wanted to ask, but he wasn’t able to mould a coherent phrase. Instead, he leaned closer. If she wanted to kiss him, he would let her. He had thought it before: the man she desired, she would get.
“George?” she asked, forcing him to open his eyes once again. “I won’t kiss you unless you say you want to kiss me too.”
“I thought you were desperate to be touched,” George played, smirking a little.
“Desperate? I didn’t say that” [y/n] smiled too.
“Kiss me, [y/n],” he said, the smirk disappearing.
She took one last deep breath and pressed her lips against his. It felt sweet at first, but then it was something different, something [y/n] could not find words to describe, perhaps spicy could be a great word, but it wouldn’t delineate it completely. There was more, always more, and when [y/n] opened her mouth waiting for his advance, she was impressed to feel him eager.
Their kiss deepened, it became something of its own, essentially when George’s arms took her whole body in, tugging, hugging, caressing her. She did the same with her hands, searching for his red curls, and pulling him in by the neck.
“George, touch me,” [y/n] yearned.
“I… I…” George couldn’t find the words, neither to say yes nor no.
He kept pulling her, closer and closer, but it wasn’t enough. He finally understood her, understood what she longed for because he longed for the same. To touch her, on her very core. But he couldn’t.
“We shouldn’t, [y/n],” he said, sorrowfully. “I shouldn’t.”
“Fine,” she whispered, leaning over his ear. “But I should.”
Her hands left his neck and wandered towards his trousers, finding the confirmation of his deepest desires. Oh, he hankered to touch her, too. He only lacked what the candy bar gave [y/n]: fearlessness.
He held her hand before she pressed him even tighter.
“Are you sure of what you’re doing?” he asked. “You’re probably intoxicated.”
“Intoxicated?” she stepped back. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t believe her. “Why? Because I would rather be with Fred, you reckon? Oh, yeah, you know so much about me!”
She took more steps away from him, and looked back, finding him with a disturbed expression on his face.
“If I wanted to be with Fred, I would’ve found a way to drag him here,” she said, confidently but also angry. “But it was you who came to me, and yes, I might’ve been the one to kiss you, but only because you told me to.”
“[y/n]! I… I just don’t think you wanted to… in the middle of Hogsmeade,” he shouted back, feeling the first raindrop fall over his nose. “Because don’t turn this on me! I’ll allow you to touch me anywhere you’d like, any day, even! You longed to be touched, but I’ve been longing to be touched by you!”
His words weren’t only an astonishment to her, but to him too. George didn’t know he had been thinking about her that way until she touched him — until he felt the taste of her lips.
[y/n] made a quick decision: she left. She turned her back, feeling raindrops start to fall all over her, but she didn’t bother and kept walking away, towards Honeydukes.
George watched as she went, and he was frozen, even in the rain. It was Fred who found him, all soaked.
“What happened?” Fred asked, but his twin did not answer. “I knew I should have taught you better how to hit on girls.”
George, paralysed, only moved his lips. “She left me,” he finally said. “In the rain, all alone.”
Fred breathed. “Let’s go back to Hogwarts; she’s not going to get back here.”
“Didn’t you seelp well, guys? You look very tired!” you said watching the twins closing their eyes while they walked. “ if I’m honest, I couldn’t sleep very much due to the nerves but I’m not tired, I’m excited!” you exclaimed as George nodded and Fred didn’t listen to you. “I mean, it’s the Quidditch World Cup! We will see the best plaeyers in the world…we’ll see Viktor Krum! You have to be excited!”
“Who has named Viktor Krum?!” an excited Ron asked euphoric.
Enjoy!! Does include some serious smut at the bottom!!
A smile rested upon your cheeks as you watched from afar. More so watching the one and only Fred Weasley as he was trying some of his new puking pastilles on the 1ST years. Watching as their faces twisted in disgust, and the laughter that flowed from Fred.
You were brought back to reality by a swift hand brushing your shoulder, you softly groaned as you turned away.
“Too busy watching lover boy?” your best friend Meg smirked as she watched the blush wash over your pale face.
You couldn’t find the words to try and excuse yourself from the embarrassment of watching the boy you have had a crush on for what seems like forever.
“You-uh-uh oh shush” you stuttered, only causing a bellowing laugh from your best friend as she took the seat next to you. You just gave her a small smile, clearly still embarrassed that she had caught you looking once again.
“Maybe you could start with hello…. instead of watching him from across the room.” She said softly as she watched you slowly turn your attention back to Fred and the smile that lit up his face.
“Hello? He wouldn’t even know who I was if I tried.” You said the defeat clearly lacing your tone as your smile slowly fell from your face.
Your best friend’s smile fell as she saw the defeat clear upon your features, “How could he not know the smartest witch in his year? If he doesn’t clearly, he’s dumber than I thought” she said bluntly, an echoing laugh coming from you.
“You do know that I can’t even say two words to him, correct? Who would be interested in that?” You murmured, carefully pushing your glasses farther onto your face. Sadness laced your tone. You knew that Fred would never be interesting in you. He wouldn’t even bat an eye in your direction. You were like the Hermione Granger of Slytherin. And as your mother would say… “No one likes a know it all.”
Your best friend sighed; she knew where you mind went- “Then maybe he is just dumb” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. A giggle erupted from your throat, catching her off guard.
The both of you fell into a fit of giggles, unable to control the laughter than echoed through the hall. It felt like it was only the two of you, and her comment was the funniest thing in the world.
Unbeknownst to the both of you, as your giggles echoed through the hall you had caught the attention of a certain red head.
He watched on from across the Great Hall- watching as you tried to catch your breath from the laughter that rocked your chest. He could just barely make out the tears running down your face from the utter amusement.
He only wondered what was so funny. He continued to look on from his spot at Gryffindor table. Carefully watching as you wiped the tears falling down your cheeks, some splattering onto your green tie and white shirt.
You sat there, carefully wiping the falling tears from your face. It was the hardest you had laughed in a long time, the utter amusement of your best friend’s tone just sent you into a fit of giggles.
Placing your glasses back onto your face, you turned in the direction of the man you so desperately wanted to be yours.
But you were shocked… He was already looking at you, a soft smile etched on his features.
You looked away quickly, a red, hot blush spreading over your features as you hide your face in your long blonde hair. It was as if breathing became more difficult. You couldn’t believe he was looking at you, let alone the fact that you caught him looking.
Your eyes went wide, and blood ran cold as you realized- He caught you looking too…
Carefully, yet quickly you gathered your things. Praying he wasn’t watching you as you shoved your toast in your mouth- while simultaneously grabbing your bag and wand.
You brushed past your best friend, whispered a quick sorry as you rushed so very quickly out of the Great Hall. Praying that you weren’t being followed by the one person you knew you couldn’t face.
The empty corridors echoed as you rushed through, trying to get away from the interaction with Fred. Hoping that he really wasn’t looking at you, so he didn’t see how flustered you got by the eye contact.
But you knew deep down, he was looking at you. You also knew, this time he actually saw you, not the small, quiet, wickedly smart Slytherin girl he sits behind in Potions.
Thoughts spun through your head, unaware of the footsteps following you. The echoes becoming even more overwhelming as your heart beat out of your chest.
You were in such a rush to get away, you didn’t even notice that you rushed into the restricted section of the castle. You just continued to try and get as far away from everyone and everything as possible.
You were drawn from your thoughts as you felt a hand wrap around your upper arm, carefully spinning them towards you.
You heart dropped as you spun around coming face to face with a certain freckled face, who was taking in your features slowly.
“Hey” he said, almost in a shy tone.
You opened your mouth, but you knew no words would come out. Taking a deep breath, you uttered the only sentence you could, one you have been trying to say forever.
“Hi Fred” you said, shyness also lacing your tone. It was the one sentence you had been trying to say since you met him 1ST year.
“You know you didn’t have to run out, right?” He said softly, letting go of your arm as he watched a blush coat your features once again.
“I-uh-uh-I I was embarrassed… it obviously wasn’t my best moment.” you said, clearly just defeated that you had been caught, not only looking at him but also running away.
He opened his mouth to softly comfort you, but he was interrupted by a sharp meow.
Both your eyes went wide as you saw Mrs. Norris and her blood red eyes looking narrowly at the two of you. You knew that Filch wasn’t far behind.
Fred gently grabbed your hand, pulling you down the corridor. You short legs barely catching up with his long steps he was taking. You both sighed as he pulled you inside a dark closet.
The meows distanced themselves from the outside of the door, silence began to engulf the both of you. It was then that you realized Fred still had a hold of your hand. You carefully pulled away- trying to hold yourself together.
Swiftly you turned back to the door, pulling on the handle gently as you just tried to escape this situation all together.
But the door didn’t open.
“Fred- the door is locked” you said nervously.
He just sighed, brushing past you and roughly pulled on the handle. But of course, it didn’t open for him either.
“I-uh I think we are stuck” he said, laughing as he sulked back into his corner of the closet. His laughter just continued to bounce off the walls.
“Seriously, of all things Fred I do not need this right now. I just want to get out of here.” you hissed unintentionally as you fumbled around the dark closet.
His laughter filled the tiny, dark space. You could almost imagine the smirk that crossed his handsome features. You felt the annoyance in his laughter beginning to push your buttons.
Merlin, you were locked in a closet, and he found it more than amusing.
“Glad to know you find this so funny.” You stated, anger dripping from your words.
Continuing to jiggle the door handle, praying that it would open. No spell or trying could get you further away from this situation.
“Maybe it’s locked because we need to talk…” he suggested. You knew he wanted to talk about the fact you were looking at him earlier, but you had no words. Nothing to even try to defend yourself.
“Fred- I don’t want to talk” you said, still trying to jiggle the doorknob. You were praying it would just open so you could escape this dreaded conversation.
You knew the minute you opened your mouth that the words of love were going to desperately escape from your locked vault. You were so desperately in love; you didn’t even know what to say to him.
Carefully turning your head, you caught his darker eyes. You could see the lack of sleep covering his features, his soft stubble that was starting to show on his chin, the freckles that danced along his features.
Before you even knew it, you were moving closer. Your lips barely touching his before you felt the fireworks shoot through you. Your eyes opened, looking deeply into his. He was looking just as deeply back into yours.
You leaned forward again, placing a swift hand on his cheek. The fireworks were shooting through you as you kissed him once more. His hand finding it’s way to your hair and around your waist, pulling your smaller figure into him.
Nibbling carefully on his lip, a small moan escaped from his lips. You couldn’t believe that this was happening right now.
His hands slowly made their way down to your ass, squeezing. It drew a loud moan from your throat as you leaned in closer to him.
You pulled away; your lips hot from the kiss. Carefully you undid the buttons to his white button down, feeling his abs as you slowly undressed him. His shirt fell to the floor, as you made your way to his pants, popping the button carefully.
His eyes watched you intensely as you got on your knees, slowly dragging his pants down his legs as you kept eye contact.
His cock clearly outlined in his boxers as you carefully pulled them down his legs as well. You caught his eyes, almost to get his approval before taking his cock in your mouth.
You swirled your tongue around his thick cock, saliva running down your chin as moans softly fell from his lips. His hands found their way to your hair, roughly pulling causing a moan to come from you as well.
You carefully pulled away from him, locking your lips with him once again. His large hands pulled you close, carefully undoing the buttons on your shirt. Slipping it off your shoulders, your white lacy bra showing on your sun kissed skin.
He carefully kissed down your neck, softly sucking as he made his way to your breasts. He carefully caught your eye, silently asking for your approval. You nodded softly, as he undid your bra- softly kissing your nipples and breasts. The moans silently slipped from your lips as you laced your fingers in his ginger hair.
He continued to give your breasts all the attention as you moaned more, “Freddie… fuck me. I need you”
A wicked smile crossed his features as he carefully lifted your skirt to reveal the lack of underwear you were wearing.
“Oh- naughty. No panties?” He moaned, pressing hot kisses to your neck.
“All for you…” you moaned as you turned your back to him, bending over. His hand brushing against your nub, carefully swirling in circles before you felt his tip graze against you.
His tip was at your entrance, teasing you gently. You moaned at the contact before he entered you in one quick move, your moans echoing through the closet. Fred continuously pounding deeply into you, as he pulled your hair.
He carefully flipped your around, his lips slamming onto yours. The hot closet and Freddie inside of you sent your body into overdrive. He quickly picked up his pace, causing your eyes to roll back into your head.
Your climax was fast approaching, and Fred could feel you beginning to tighten around him. He carefully reached down rubbing your sensitive nub.
“Are you mine? Tell me baby” He groaned out as he continued to slam into you.
“Y-Y-Yo-Yours” you moaned loudly, as your climax overcame you. Fred could feel you pulsating around him which only caused him to lose it. He moaned as he filled you up with his hot seed, causing you to moan at the contact.
Your legs felt like jell-o, as you carefully pulled your shirt back on. Quickly turning to Fred, placing a soft kiss on his lips as you turned, pushing open the door which thank goodness was unlocked now.
Sending a wink in Fred’s direction as he pulled his clothes back on. He sent you a soft smile, knowing good and well he was going to see you later. You carefully turned, heading towards your common room.
And all of a sudden you were wondering where you got the confidence, as you slowly skipped away from Fred. But you knew that the closet, and those moments with him had changed you forever.
“Seriously, of all things Fred I do not need this right now.” you hissed as you fumbled around the dark closet.
His laughter filled the tiny, dark space. You could almost imagine the smirk that crossed his handsome features. You inner annoyance reaching a new high when it came to him.
Merlin, we were locked in a closet and he found it more than amusing.
“Glad to know you find this so funny.” You stated, anger dripping from your words.
Continuing to jiggle the door handle, praying that it would open. No spell or trying could get you further away from this situation.
Do we like? Do we want more? Give me your feedback!
Summary: George thinks it’s finally time to bring the reader home to his family; he is, after all, the one
Request: The reader and George gave been dating for a few months now, and he wants to bring him home to meet the rest of his family. The reader arrives, worried he’ll make a bad impression, but finds the meeting successful and enjoys the next few days in the Weasley’s company.
A/N: I edited the request to make it shorter but I did use all of it bc it was wonderful so gracias, sorry it took so so long but I had inspo today so we move. I have not written in so so so sos so long I am so nervous
Reader:Male
Warnings: none really? Kissing?
“Georgie,” you said, your feet glued to the gravel that flooded the driveway of the Burrow. You felt light-headed. It was because of the apparating, of course. Definitely not because you were meeting your boyfriend’s family. Definitely not.
You gulped.
“Y/N,” George deadpanned, turning his back to the house, facing you. His hands reached out to grab yours, swinging them side to side and rubbing his thumb against your skin, a single eyebrow raised. Anyone could see you were nervous, there you were, shaking from head to toe like a little chihuahua. Though he found it undeniably adorable, he hated to see you so anxious.
“Do you want to tell me why you look like a mandrake right now?” he asked, one of his hands abandoning yours to cup your cheek.
You glared at him, a pout pulling at your lips as you leant in to his touch despite yourself.
“Hmm?” he smirked, using your joined hands to prod you in the side.
Your frowned deepened.
“Y/N,” he pressed, tilting his head to the side and letting his thumb graze your cheek. “They’re going to love you.”
“You don’t know that,” you swallowed.
“In fact, I do.” He said triumphantly, abruptly turning and dragging you towards the house. “Because you are the only boy I have ever brought home, and you are the only one I ever want to bring home again.”
“They don’t have a choice,” he grinned, wetting his lips with his tongue. “They have to love you.”
You stared at him, only vaguely registering the fact that you’d stopped outside the front door. Your thrumming nerves had been somewhat replaced by a fluttering sensation in your stomach. Did he really mean that?
“You really mean-“
Before you could ask him, the front door swung open and you were met with the scrutinising gaze of a short lady with red hair and the dirtiest apron you’d ever seen. You tried your best to avoid her eyes but you couldn’t, her stare gave you the feeling that one wrong move would get you a one-way ticket to Azkaban.
“Hey, Mum,” George beamed, squeezing your hand lightly. “This is Y/N.”
You offered a weak smile as she ignored him, focused entirely on you.
“Blimey, George,” she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. “He is a handsome one, isn’t he?”
You blinked. You opened your mouth to speak, not at all sure of what you would say, really. Luckily, you didn’t have to. It took Molly Weasley all of three seconds to pull you into the warmest, nicest, most bone-crushing hug you’d ever had. That, combined with the scent of bread and flowers and honey wafting outside from behind her, made the overwhelming feeling of home bloom in your chest.
“Oh, dear,” she said, pulling away from the tight embrace. “Come in, come in.”
Her hand on your back was firm but sweet as she ushered you inside, leaving George behind in her haste. Whilst you were still certainly freaking out, her warm welcome had you barely noticing George’s hand slipping from your own. She bombarded you with question after question as she brought you inside, shrugging your coat off your shoulders and pushing you by the fireplace.
“How are you, dear? Are you hungry? Did you apparate safely? Gosh, you must be exhausted-“
“I’ll just get the door, shall I?” George asked sarcastically as he shuffled in. You grinned over your shoulder, flushing slightly when you met his eyes, pleased beyond belief at how well this was going. When you turned back, Mrs Weasley’s eyes were on you, softer this time, with a fond smile gracing her lips.
“You alright, Y/N?” Fred asked from the corner, waving distractedly as he stood on an armchair, messing with something on the wall.
“Grand, yeah,” you smiled, a familiar face easing your nerves. “You?”
“Wicked,” he said, finally looking down at you with the same cheeky grin you’d gotten so used to.
“Oh, get down, Fred,” Mrs Weasley huffed, rolling her eyes as she turned back to face you, her hands brushing up and down your arms. “Now, dear, can I get you a cup of tea?”
“Oh,” you said, somewhat grateful to feel George’s presence behind you. “No, thank you, Mrs Weasley.”
“Molly,” she insisted, beaming as she walked over to the coat rack, brushing the dust off your coat as she went. “Arthur! Come meet Y/N!”
“See,” George said, his breath hot on your ear as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “They love you already.”
You scoffed, ready to retort before an older man appeared from one of the rooms by the stairs.
“Who’s Y/N?” he said, scratching his head as he fiddled with something in his hands. You straightened up, pulling your jumper down as his eyes settled on you. For the first time ever, you wished George would let go of his grip around your waist.
“Dad, this is Y/N,” he said, finally letting go, but only long enough to throw an arm around your back, his grip settling around your neck. “My boyfriend.”
“Ah,” Mr Weasley nodded, his steely eyes flicking to yours for the briefest moment before a smile lifted his expression. “Arthur Weasley, nice to meet you.”
You stared at his outstretched hand for a few seconds, the twisting feeling in your gut preventing any semblance of normal human interaction. Somehow, though, you managed to meet his grip and he pulled you in closer, leaning in secretively.
“Now, son, do you know anything about radios?”
You didn’t know what caught you more off guard, the question or the word ‘son’.
“No,” you said, shaking your head far too fervently. “Sorry, sir.”
He shook his head in disappointment.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t. That’s alright,” he said, though he looked so glum you felt it was anything but. With only a sympathetic nod, he turned and walked to the living room, all the while messing with the little contraption in his hand.
“Ignore him,” George whispered, squeezing the back of your neck lightly and knocking his head into yours. “Off his rocker, sometimes.”
You shot him a dry look, earning a grin in response.
“Anyway,” he said, pointing towards the stairs as three older men, his older brothers you assumed, appeared. “That’s Bill and that’s Charlie.”
The first two waved, Bill shooting you a characteristic Weasley grin and Charlie nodding his head with a small smile.
“I’m sure you remember Percy.”
Percy’s face was stoic but he nodded rather stiffly in your direction nonetheless. You’d have been offended if you didn’t already know what he was like.
“Ron and Ginny are out with Harry, but they’ll be back later,” George explained, letting his hand trail down your back as his other hand reached out to clasp yours.
“I’m sure he’s loving that,” you said lightly, pleasantly surprised when it earnt a chorus of laughter from the Weasleys.
Meeting George’s family had gone a lot better than anticipated.
You hadn’t expected to even get through the door, let alone sail through dinner. Somehow, you managed to talk to each of the Weasley’s in turn, striking up conversation with Ginny about quidditch and listening ardently to Charlie’s stories of Romania. You even managed to get Percy to crack a smile, even if it was at George’s expense.
“That was a wonderful meal, Molly,” you said, wiping your mouth with a napkin as she stood up, balancing a stack of plates in her grasp. “Let me help you with washing up.”
“Of course not, dear,” she all but gasped. “You’re my guest, you shall not be doing anything of the sort.”
“I insist,” you grinned, taking the plates off of her. “Me and George will do them.”
She tilted her head to the side and sighed, ignoring George’s groans of protest next to you.
“Come on, you oaf,” you said, rolling your eyes fondly.
George followed you to the kitchen, a comfortable silence falling as you got into a rhythm: you washed, he dried. If you could call it that. You were so absorbed by the gravy stain on one of the plates, you didn’t even realise he was staring at you.
“They like you a lot,” he said, knocking your hips together.
You smiled, passing him the plate as satisfaction flooded through you. They actually did like you, you thought, pleased with the way the night had gone.
“And you?” you asked, raising your eyebrow playfully. He smirked.
“Hmm,”
“Hmm?”
“I think I could take you or leave you, myself.”
You huffed in indignation, pushing at his chest with your hand.
“You cheeky bastard!” you said, pursing your lips to contain your laughter.
“Hey!” he admonished, shoving your shoulder lightly. “Language.”
You snorted, dipping your hands into the washing up water and spraying him, enjoying the shock on his features.
“Oh, you little-“
Before you knew it, you were laughing loudly, running away from him as he twisted the tea towel in his hand, ready to strike at any moment. He hit you once and you grabbed the cloth, a triumphant smile on your face before he pulling you in with it and you found yourself colliding with his chest.
Your breathing was heavy from laughter as he stole a kiss, resting his forehead on yours.
“Bloody hell, you two,” Ron exclaimed from the table, making you suddenly aware of all eyes on you.
“Yeah, get a room,” Fred said, making a face and pretending to gag. You were almost nervous, your face heating up before Ginny hit Fred upside the head.
“Shut up, you knob.”
“Mum!” Fred whined theatrically, ruffling Ginny’s hair in return. “Ginny just called me a knob!”
Molly, it seemed, was avoiding the conversation entirely.
“You two,” she gushed, clasping her hands together and standing up.
You moved to step back from George, but his iron grip on your hips stopped you.
“Aren’t you just the sweetest?” Molly said, pinching George’s cheek, earning a groan. “Oh, my.”
She grabbed your face between her hands and reached up to press a kiss to your cheek, an action you weren’t wholly prepared for but didn’t at all dislike.
“I absolutely cannot wait for the wedding.”
Before you could even form a thought about her words, let alone a whole sentence, the ruckus that had formed at the table grew louder and Molly snapped around, a murderous mum-glare painting her face.
“Ginerva Weasley, you get off your brother right now!”
As you brushed your teeth in the bathroom, surrounded by what seemed like millions of toothbrushes and shampoo bottles, you thought about how positively insane your day had been. You were chuffed. Beyond chuffed, really. Not in your wildest dreams did you expect to be accepted so easily, let alone to have as much fun as you did. You were so lost in thought, you spent well over two minutes with the brush balanced between your teeth, vaguely staring out of the window, into the night.
“You alright there, love?” George said, wandering into the bathroom behind you, threading his arms around your waist. “You’ve been flossing for years.”
You shot him a dull look through the mirror, rolling your eyes as he tightened his grip, pressing his lips against your shoulder.
“You’re the love of my life, you know,” he whispered, digging his chin into your back.
“I thought you could take me or leave me?” you asked drily, spitting your toothpaste into the sink and ignoring the way his words messed with your insides.
“Ah, well, that too.”
You turned around in his arms, letting him pull you closer as he pressed a gentle kiss on your lips. Your hand trailed up to brush his cheekbone as you tilted your head to the side.
“I love your family.”
“They love you,” he said with a small, almost smug smile.
“So, I’ve heard,” you said, pulling away and pulling George into his childhood room. You couldn’t help but smile at how Fred and George-like it was. You also couldn’t thank Fred enough for rooming with Ron for the night.
“I know that I personally, absolutely cannot wait for the wedding.”
You smirked as you lifted up the covers, sliding into bed and laughing at George’s mortified expression. He dropped down next to you like a boulder, his arm warm as it fell across your waist.
“You think you’re so funny,” he huffed, prodding your side, relishing in your grunts and laughter. “Don’t you?”
“Occasionally,” you managed to say, breathing heavily as he pulled you closer, calling off his attack. You could feel his breath on the side of your face as he lay there, draped over you. Interlocking your fingers, you stared up and the ceiling, a blanket of quiet falling over you both. You could almost feel George holding his breath.
“Do you ever think about it, though?” he asked, his arm curling around you. “Getting married?”
You turned your head to the side so your noses were touching, a frown pulling at your brow.
“Me and you?”
The nervous tug of his lips as he frowned pulled at your heartstrings and you leant over, straining your neck slightly, to kiss it better. His forehead rested silently on your own.
“Of course, I do, George,” you whispered. “I think about you in a tux very regularly.”
You expected him to laugh, but he didn’t, taking your words, instead, very seriously.
“Good,” he nodded, talking more to himself than you. “That’s good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, pecking at your lips gently and pulling the covers tightly around you both.
harry potter tag list: just ask me about tag lists!!! i.e. to be added/ taken off
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.
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:
A/N this is a fanfic I started a long time ago. If you guys want me to continue let me know!
1989
Every witch and wizard dreams of the day they go to Hogwarts. Wondering if they will live up to their parents legacy.
Charlotte Luciano sat alone on the train. The words of her father replayed in her mind, make me proud.
Everyone passed by her cart pointing. Lottie was almost as famous as Harry Potter himself. Her family was well known in the wizarding world. Her mother’s father, Newt Scamander had cause a huge scandal in America. While her father’s father was the owner of the largest book shop in diagon alley. When Lottie was two, her mothers best friend Lily and her husband James were killed by you-know-who. Lily was more of an mother to her than her own. She watched her everyday and every night. The night Lily was killed Lottie spent the night in Godric’s Hollow, but she couldn’t recall that night.
Lottie ran her fingers nervously through her dark hair. The tangles kept getting caught on her chubby little fingers. She frequently rubbed the scar on her left shoulder, to keep her nerves to a minimum. The red headed twins she met on the train stood beside her.
“Charlotte Luciano” the elder woman by the name of Professor McGonnagall called. She placed an old looking hat on Lottie’s head.
“Interesting. Luciano is it? Well, you don’t seem so. Different from those who came before. There are many places you belong. But, I can see were you should rome. Hufflepuff shall be your new home."
The young girl stood up in the now yellow lined robes. Lottie looked at the red headed twins as she exited the stage. They sent her a warm smile, but she knew they were just as disappointed as she was. Her face was sullen, she didn’t meet the legacy. All Luciano’s have been Gryffindors never Hufflepuffs. But, young Charlotte wasn’t like her family. She had never fit in with her thoughts or interests and now her house.
"Fred Weasley” Professor McGonagall the brunette held her breath maybe just maybe they would break the legacy too.
“Ugh. Another Weasley. I know exactly where you go. Gryffindor!” the old hat called.
George Weasley became a Gryffindor too. She was alone, the only friends she had made were now the bravest they wouldn’t have the time for a simple Hufflepuff. Dinner was lonely, Lottie could feel the eyes of her older brother, Marco searing into her skull.
The guilt washed over her. She wasn’t a Gryffindor. Her family would hate her.
The only friends she had made are the people she was suppose to be.
“I’m Cedric Diggory!” The boy across from her stuck out his hand across the table
“Charlotte Luciano. But you can call me Lottie.” She shook his hand and they gave each other a warm smile.
“I think we might be good friends Lottie.”
“I would love that Cedric.”
•
The feast seemed to go on forever, but it seemed much easier now that she had Cedric. Finally, they went back to the dormitories. Adelaide Jones was a beautiful dark skinned girl. She took all of the little first years to the dormitories. “Girls are to the right, Boys are to the left. Boys and girls are not permitted to be alone with the door closed. Boys are not allowed in the girls dormitories unless accompanied by a female. Your initials will be found on the door. Your belongings are already by your beds feel free to decorate your space as you please. If you have any questions don’t be afraid to approach Marius or I.” Marius Michael supported blonde hair and blue eyes. The seventh year was famous among the Hufflepuffs.
Charlotte and Cedric said their goodbyes before heading up to their rooms. She felt lonely without the three boys she began to call her friends. She couldn’t help but wonder if the twins would even look at her.
“Are you going to go in?” A soft voice asked. Lottie snapped out of her trance
“Sorry?”
“Are you going to go into our room?”
Lottie stared at the door, the feeling of sickness in the pit of her stomach returning.
“I get it, I’m nervous too. I’m Josephine Butler.”
“Charlotte Luciano”
“As in THE Charlotte Luciano?” Lottie scowled, she hated the attention that came with that name. “I’m so sorry did I offend you?” Lottie shook her head.
“Long story.” She replied “but right now sleep awaits.”
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
Summary:Series finale! With the business sold, George pursues a friendship. But with a friend like George, and a lover like Rhubarb, what is a woman’s heart to do?
A/N: Apologies this too me years to actually finish. I’m glad it is done, though I do have vision for an epilogue. I love George and I want to do more one-shots with him since this story just lost steam for me. Also since this story is based on You’ve Got Mail, we had to include the final kiss gif!
“I think that’s the last box,” Patty says from the living room of your new flat. Cardboard and tape cover the floor in a spread that denotes only chaos. You throw the last shipping label onto the package and let out a breath.
“Every last unsold book, boxed and ready to head to a home that needs them,” you smile.
“How you managed to connect with so many schools and children’s programs, I’ll never understand.”
You let out a laugh, “You don’t have to wonder. George reached out to his brother Percy who works at the ministry. He basically just printed me out a list and I sent some letters.”
Patty falls down onto your couch and raises an eyebrow your way.
“Just George now?”
You turn to her with a hand on your hip.
“What’s that question supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying, that’s a big change from a month ago when he was just Weasley and you said it with such venom I thought you were speaking parseltongue.”
Heat spreads across your cheeks, and you know Patty sees it. But she isn’t wrong. It’s been a big change in such a short period of time. It started with George showing up the day the closed sign was officially placed on your store, offering any help you might need with moving out the last of your things. At first, it felt a little patronizing, like he was simply trying to get to your space more quickly. But one look at his smile and the way he kicked at the ground, nervous you might say no, made it clear he was really only trying to be helpful. And George has yet to fail you on that front. He moved boxes and furniture. He sat with you over tea as you debated your next step and hunted for a new flat. He used his family of contacts to get these books to new homes. And all of it he did without any air of superiority you always assumed the Weasley twins would have. He was open, honest, kind, funny, distractingly handsome, and worst of all, exactly what you wanted. He wasn’t complacent like Tom. He didn’t fill space the way he seemed to around everyone else. No, with you he gave you space to grow to meet him. He stepped back so you could step forward— always there, always listening, always supportive. And while you could not be sure you were ready for love again, you were having a hard time picturing that future with anyone else.
“Do you just want me to admit it, Patty?”
She smiles sweetly at you, playing with a rogue curl that fell in front of her face. “I’d love nothing more, darling.”
You let out a long sigh, “I’m falling for him, okay? But—”
“No buts, Y/N. None. Life doesn’t happen on some arbitrary timeline. You don’t have to wait some set amount of time to be over Tom—”
You shake your head at her, “I don’t care about Tom. It’s just…”
Patty frowns, her expression confused. “Rhubarb?”
You nod and sit down on a box, your head between your hands.
While George had been everything you wanted in his actions, Rhubarb had been everything you wanted in words. Falling for George meant having to acknowledge the reality that everything George was doing was simply friendship. And if you interpret his actions as more, that wasn’t because he did anything to make it so. Every coffee date ended with a smile, a “See ya later,” and a quick hug, one that didn’t linger and didn’t presume. Sure, maybe some of it was flirting, but George Weasley making a woman laugh was not some great seduction tactic, it was merely George being himself. You were just victim to his naturally charming personality.
But with Rhubarb, there was no guessing. Rhubarb spoke all the things you would love to hear from George’s ears. Words of passion, desire, longing, interest. Words of a man who wished for something real and deep, to know you heart and soul. But he had also stood you up before. Words were nothing without actions.
It was becoming hard to decide where you should invest your energies: the man who is present but may not see you as more than a friend, or the man who is absent but who wants you with conviction. Why couldn’t you have both?
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. With a quick look at Patty, you answered.
“Sorry for intruding,” George said, his hand running through his hair and the shoulders of his jacket wet from the sudden showers. “But when it started raining, I thought you might need a hand getting those boxes to the train.”
He lifted his face, granting you the sight of that breathtaking smile surrounded by those rosy pink lips and that skin covered in a constellation of freckles. Your hand was raising to touch them before you could stop yourself.
“Y/N?” George asked as your fingers grazed his cheek.
You caught yourself, feeling the awkward intimacy of the moment immediately. Your fingers brushed his soft skin. Your faces were far too close together. Your eyes were locked on each other in curious question.
Your pulse quickened as you managed to stutter out, “You’ve got some rain on your cheek.” You brushed the invisible droplet with the pad of your thumb, George’s inquisitive eyes trained on you the entire time. And when your finger finally left his cheek, he smiled.
“Told you the rain would be a problem.”
You laughed, and somehow George moved closed. He didn’t pull away, leaving your body electric with the need to touch him again.
Only then did Patty hum.
“George, thank you for helping her. I’ll let you two get to it.”
She walked over and kissed my cheek before slipping out the door behind George. She winked at me as she turned down the sidewalk.
George stepped into my flat fully and took in the boxes.
“Wow, you really are doing a lot of good. You’re far too kind for this world, Y/N.”
When he turned around, he took me in his arms, making me gasp. He held me tight, his voice close to my ear.
“I know I’ve said sorry a million times, but I hope you know how truly impressed I am with you. You’re gratuitous and giving, hardworking and smart. You’re sassy and sensitive. I know whatever comes next, you’re going to be just amazing.”
He breathed into my neck and suddenly it all snapped. Every feeling of friendship dissipated with that single breath and the goosebumps it created.
You pulled away, looking up into George’s eyes. Once again, his only shined with curiosity. But when you began moving your face towards his, he didn’t pull away. And when your lips touched, those goosebumps only spread, moving with them a shiver that radiated from your fingers to the very tips of your toes. And when he kissed you back, nothing could have felt more kinetic.
“Y/N…” George whispered against your mouth before pursuing yours once again. And as you met him with the same enthusiasm, you had to pull away.
George’s eyes grew with confusion as he slowly regained himself, his grip on your back loosening.
“George…” you tried to explain, but there weren’t words yet.
He gave you a smile, somehow understanding without even needing to hear a word.
“How about I take a few of these boxes and we can talk again tomorrow?”
“That’s… thanks, George.”
You couldn’t even lift your head to watch him leave, but you heard the door close. With a stabilizing breath, you went over to your writing desk. Letters from Rhubarb over the past few weeks littered the top. You read a few, trying to understand the swirling emotions inside yourself.
Cherry,
I thought about you today when I picked up my morning paper. The woman at the counter was reading a book about the Knights of the Round Table— a serious historical breakdown, not the adventures you’ve shared with me. And somehow it seemed so silly that something that could be filled with such magic was being boiled down to facts and figures, devoid of life and meaning.
It’s kind of like love. You can analyze it forever, work out your pet peeves, your pleasures, take all the right steps to finding the perfect person. But the adventure — the magic — that’s what makes a love story worth reading.
We may have not had the perfect path. Hell, we may not even be the perfect pair. But you are magic, Cherry. Perfect magic.
Your Rhubarb.
My sweetest Cherry,
I know things are tough right now. I also know things are incredibly exciting. You have the world ahead of you, and no one is prepared for what you’re going to bring. If you open another store or use your cultural skills with the ministry or try something completely new, you’ll do it because you’re a capable woman. The possibilities are endless and that’s as scary as it is thrilling.
That’s what I felt that night we were supposed to meet. Fear and exhilaration, anxiety and anticipation. What a complicated set of emotions. You stole my heart, you did, but you also took away every safe barrier I’ve ever created for myself to keep the hurt away.
You are my greatest potential pain. My greatest potential gain. And just like you now, standing at the precipice, there are so many possible directions, some good and some bad, some with joy and some with pain. But knowing joy is possible is a beautiful thing.
Whenever you’re ready, I’m here to take a step off the precipice with you. I’m ready to fall, no matter where we land.
With love,
Rhubarb
Tell me Cherry, how are you liking the new apartment? Are you making the space all your own? I can picture your living room filled with your favorite books, but also a ton of materials for hosting others. What does that sentence even mean? What are materials for hosting parties? Pillows? A bar cart? I don’t know, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it inviting for everyone.
I believe I told you I have quite the large family, and my mother loves to host parties, even though we never have the space for it. Her biggest secret to hosting success is to keep everyone well-fed. I’ll send you a serving tray once you let me know the color scheme you’re going for in the kitchen. Maybe someday you’ll let me attend one of your parties. I can’t wait until the day that I can hold my arms around your waist, kiss your head while you greet guests, telling everyone how delicious your pastries are. I’d be a very proud man having you on my arm. So, so proud.
And even proud now,
Rhubarb
With a heavy sigh, you took your quill in your hands. Diomedes rubbed his face into your knuckles, pushing the ink towards the paper.
Dearest Rhubarb,
Your support over this past month, as my world came crashing down around me, has meant so much. While you haven’t been able to be here in person, the words you have penned have made me feel seen in a way I didn’t realize I needed, that I didn’t realize I had missed for so long. You’ve given me confidence, and for that I am thankful.
But I also must be honest, not having you here in person… it has made it hard for my heart to know what it wants.
Let’s meet. Tomorrow at 6PM in Queen Mary’s Rose Garden in Regent’s Park. I can’t promise anything, but I need to know who you are. I need to see your face. I want to see what could be… I just need to know.
Cherry
“Fred, god, what do I do?” George screamed at his brother while shaking your note in his hands.
Fred shrugged and stoked the fire. “I told you lying was a bad idea.”
“That’s precious, Fred, when lying is basically the only reason we have a business.”
Bill stood in the corner, looking out the window where your Diomedes had just entered, flying only a couple blocks from your flat. Bill chuckled to himself at the realization that if you had just watched your bird as he flew out into the night, this all would have been solved without any chaos.
“And what’s so funny over there, William?” George asked, his voice still laced with desperation.
“You know I’m going to tell you what I’ve always told you. This isn’t your decision alone. It’s Y/Ns. You have to put yourself out there. If she reciprocates, great. If she’s absolutely fuming and never wants to speak to you again, well, you have to take that, too.”
George fell onto the couch, his arm thrown over his head dramatically.
“I’m supposed to just walk into that park tomorrow and let the woman I love with every fiber of my being — a woman who just kissed me today and blew my mind with how good she made it feel — just walk away from me forever?”
“If she wants to, yes.”
George let out an angry grunt before stomping over to his desk.
His quill moved over the paper faster than he thought possible. But he didn’t want to second guess himself. He just had to do it.
My Cherry,
Wear red. And I’ll be carrying my copy of the Merlin Adventures.
See you at 6PM.
All my love,
Rhubarb
George hadn’t reached out yet today like he said he would, which was odd for the George you had been coming to know. George was chaos, yes, but only in the frantic way his mind sometimes worked. In the practical, George was consistent and steady, more like a river than a monsoon. Strong and powerful but peaceful and predictable, not nearly what you expected when you first met the twins.
But maybe not hearing from George was a good thing. It took away a lot of the conflict you felt about today’s meeting. You had feelings for two men in completely different ways. And the feelings for both came with their own complications. Rhubarb was a ghost, a phantom who could mold himself to be just who he needed to be to please you. George was real, warts and all, but a new friend and a previous enemy. It was tenuous at best to assume that George might feel the same way, even if he did reciprocate the kiss. But that could easily be brushed aside. Men like when women kiss them, even if they don’t necessarily want to be emotionally involved with them.
But god, did you want it. The kisses, the emotions, all of it…
Pulling you from your thoughts was the sound of footsteps. It was close to dinner time now and families could be seen using the park to cut through to their homes for the night, or to play games with friends. A breeze blew through the trees and as you wrapped yourself tighter in your red slip dress, a tweed jacket fell on your shoulders.
“Don’t go catching a cold on me now, Cherry.”
You turned your face upward to spy the warm freckled cheeks and beautiful smile of George Weasley.
“Thank you, George,” you said with a smile, only then processing what he just said.
Your eyes traveled down to his arms, which hold a copy of your favorite book close to his chest.
“It’s you…” Your voice was a whisper. George looked in your eyes, unsure what you would do next. The fear and doubt you saw there hurt.
Soon you were up from the bench and tossing yourself into his arms.
“It’s you,” you breathed into his neck, “Merlin, I had hoped it was you.”
George dropped the book, his arms wrapping snuggly around you as his voice let out the biggest, most beautiful laugh.
“And here I was thinking you were going to punch me in the face.”
He kissed the top of your head and you could feel how unwilling he was to let you go. And all it did was make you hold tighter, cry harder, pull his lips to yours with passion.
“You never stood me up.”
“No, I didn’t. And I never would.”
So many elements of the past few months fall into place. George was both the man with the words and the man with the actions. He was heart, body, and spirit. He was yours, without question. And while something about him spending the day with you in person and writing letters to you at night felt a little mischievous, what was George but mischievous? And what choice had you given him when the one time he tried to reveal himself, you gave him such a strong tongue-lashing that you felt guilty for weeks.
“Rhubarb,” you whispered against his wanting mouth.
“Yes, my love,” he said between kisses.
“Is this the red outfit you were hoping I’d wear?” you lifted your eyes to George in playful question.
“Absolutely not,” he said with a frown.
Before you could speak in protest, he held a hand to your mouth.
“I made dinner plans. Figured we might have something to celebrate. And if we didn’t, I’d have a nice quiet place to drink away my sorrows.”
The corner of George’s mouth lifted roguishly.
“But this dress, this dress isn’t making me want to take you to a restaurant. It’s making me want to take you home.”
You leaned up to kiss him again. His strong arms lifted you off the ground, glee and peace and sensuality mingling together in a cocktail of overwhelming emotions.
“Take me home, George. Take me home.”
And that’s a wrap all! This isn’t how I initially envisioned the ending. It was planned as 8 episodes, but oh well. I think I like it, and I hope you do too.
Hii! I wanna create a public, collaborative playlist for everyone with songs that remind you of fred and/or george!
I already added “freddy my love” and “this side of paradise”
So add as many songs as you’d like that you listen to when thinking of them! Or just remind you of them! I would love for you to comment the songs you added and why!
• you can add any song you think fits with the theme!
• No spamming songs from the same album or artist. (a handfull of songs isn’t considered spamming. If you want to add more spread them through the playlist so the same artist/album isn’t back to back)
• No deleting other peoples songs unless it’s from a spam account!
Hii! I wanna create a public, collaborative playlist for everyone with songs that remind you of fred and/or george!
I already added “freddy my love” and “this side of paradise”
So add as many songs as you’d like that you listen to when thinking of them! Or just remind you of them! I would love for you to comment the songs you added and why!
Feel free to share the playlist!
Here’s the link:
Update: for the past few months a spam account called “RapGame” has been spamming the playlist with an entire album of a amateur band called Morisdown. I’ve tried to report them several times but Spotify doesn’t have a report spam option. I’ve been deleting them everytime but they pop up again after a day or 2. So if you often listen to a playlist and you notice these songs in there, please delete them and report the account. Thanks!
Hii! I wanna create a public, collaborative playlist for everyone with songs that remind you of fred and/or george!
I already added “freddy my love” and “this side of paradise”
So add as many songs as you’d like that you listen to when thinking of them! Or just remind you of them! I would love for you to comment the songs you added and why!
Hii! I wanna create a public, collaborative playlist for everyone with songs that remind you of fred and/or george!
I already added “freddy my love” and “this side of paradise”
So add as many songs as you’d like that you listen to when thinking of them! Or just remind you of them! I would love for you to comment the songs you added and why!
We’re off to a great start! 27 songs already! But of course we’d all love for you to share even more songs that remind you of Fred and/or George! Any song you like can be added!
I would also love to know the reason why it reminds you of them or what you imagine while listening to the song(s)
Pairing: Fred x fem!reader, George x fem!reader(platonic)
Requested: can you do another sad imagine where the reader is dating fred and she finds out he dead at the battle and george comforts her
Warnings: Fred’s death, injury, sad reader and Weasleys
A/N: ah yes… angst :) I love her. Anyway I started my new class yesterday, but I should still be able to post regular imagines instead of only headcanons, but we’ll see.
Summary: After getting split up, the worst thing possible happens
———————————–
You were stumbling around the halls of Hogwarts, holding your side. You’d regretted going your separate way from the twins even though it was the plan. There was no doubt you wouldn’t be able to calm down until you found the both of them. Your limp was slowing you down as you walked, and you were sure there was no way you could fight off anyone if they were to come at you at that moment.
“Y/N?” You heard someone ask making you turn around to see Neville.
“Neville.” You breathed a sigh of relief.
“Let me help you to the great hall. Everyone’s there.” He explained, walking over to you and wrapping your arm around his shoulder while he held you up.
“Good, that’s good.” You winced when you both started walking a bit faster than you had been previously.
The walk was silent, neither of you knowing what you could possibly say. You tried focusing on breathing, your side killing you a whole lot more than it had been before.
“I have to go find someone.” Neville explained once you both reached the door.
“Okay, stay safe.” You smiled softly and braced yourself on your good side.
With sad eyes you looked around at all the injured and unmoving bodies laid all around the hall. A flash of red hair caught your attention and it made your head shoot up and you couldn’t help the smallest smile that made its way onto your face when you saw George. You winced when you’d tried walking normally and the closer you got the more anxious you became. It seemed all the Weasleys were standing around someone, and you didn’t miss that all of them were upset. You frantically searched the group for Fred and your stomach dropped when you couldn’t find him.
“George?” You asked, your voice wavering. You didn’t want your thoughts to be true, hoping your boyfriend had still been wandering around somewhere in the school. All the Weasleys’ attention seemed to snap toward you, and George quickly walked over to you. “Where… where is he?” You whispered, the answer already written on his face, but you needed to hear it. There was a small part of you that was still holding onto the hope he might be somewhere else.
“Y/N…” George trailed, his voice cracking when his attention averted to Fred’s limp body making your heart shatter and bile rise in your throat.
“No.” You croaked, your knees buckling. “No no no.” You choked out, your knees giving out from under you. Whimpered no’s continued to leave you while you crawled over to him. Your shaking hand made its way up to hold his face. “Freddie.” You sniffed, resting your forehead on his.
Memories of your time together started hitting you all at once. From the first train ride to Hogwarts, to the yearly three person trail that would run into platform nine and three quarters together. Your first kiss at the astronomy tower. The picnics you’d have on the quidditch field. The victory kisses you’d share after games. The time Fred and George invited you over to the borough for the first time. All the late nights the three of you would spend planning everything you’d all sell at the shop. Then you remembered the thing that broke your heart the most. The ring on your finger. Fred’s promise to love you forever, even through all your problems that may come along the way. At the thought, your crying became even harder.
“Y/N.” George’s shaky voice pulled you from your thoughts making you shake your head. “Y/N.” He repeated, pulling you away gently.
You clung to him for dear life, shoving your face in his chest as he held you tightly. You fisted his shirt in your fingers tightly, continuing to shake. George’s cries filled your ears, and this only made you feel worse.
“Y/N, dear.” Molly’s voice made you pull away and turn to her. “You’re hurt.” She pointed out making you look down at your side, but you waved her off sadly.
“I’m alright.” You whispered, crouching down before sitting down near Fred’s head.
“We should get you checked out.” George explained, sitting down next to you.
“You aren’t taking me anywhere but here.” You shook your head, your eyes never leaving Fred. Reaching out, you moved the hair away from his forehead and scooted closer before kissing it gently. “I miss you already my love.” You whispered, grabbing his hand to hold in yours.
George’s arm wrapped around you and you let your head rest on his shoulder. You let the tears fall freely, not bothering to wipe them away since you knew they were only going to get replaced with more. George’s head rested on yours, and the wet drips you felt every now and then let you know he was crying too. Grabbing his hand in your free one, you brought it over so the three of you were connected.
“I love you. The both of you.” You sniffed, looking up at George.
“We love you too. Always have, always will.” He smiled softly down to you, squeezing his hand over yours and Fred’s.
“Okay.” You whispered to yourself, taking a shaky breath while you reached over to the ring on Fred’s other hand. “I’m sorry.” You cried, slipping the ring off and kissing his ring finger gently before placing his hand back down. “Now you can have one too.” You choked out, grabbing George’s hand and slipping it on. “One for me, and one for you. To promise to keep his memory alive.” You explained, pausing when you inhaled sharply to stop yourself from full on sobbing. “To promise that we’ll always be here for each other, no matter what.” You continued, looking up at George’s tear stained face. “And to promise that nothing will change even though he’s… gone.” You explained, looking him in the eye. “And to never go a day without a joke in his honor.” You choked out.
The three of you had planned on living together as soon as you could, and the battle had put a hold on the plan. The three of you always did everything tougher, even going as far as letting George third wheel on dates.
“I’d like that.” George nodded, scooting even closer to his brother.
You all continued to sit and stand in silence. Letting it fully sink in that Fred was truly gone. Before you all left George had leant down to his brother’s ear. No one catching his last words to his other half.
“I’ll take care of her, Freddie. I promise.”
———————————–
Tag list: Inbox/message me if you’d like to be added (comments sometimes get lost amongst notifications)
Let’s get one thing straight, it doesn’t matter what house you’re in
Sure, it would be a bonus if you were in Gryffindor because that would mean he wouldn’t have to sneak into your common room to be with you
Blood status also doesn’t matter to him
If he loves you, he loves all of you
The reason you and George are together is all thanks to Fred
He had grown sick and tired of George constantly talking about you
How pretty you were
How nice you smelled
How he felt butterflies every time you smiled at him
The boy must have been in-love or something
On the other hand, Fred had found out you had feelings for George by constantly bugging you on the subject till you cracked and told him
Being the oblivious pair George and you were, neither of you had realised the others feelings
This is when Fred decided to take matters into his own hands
His plan consisted of locking both you and George in a janitors closet until you both confessed your feelings
He had told you guys to meet him in this particular closet for an emergency meeting
With the two of you being so ignorant, you walked into this closet, wondering where Fred was and why he had chosen such a weird place to meet
As soon as you guys crossed the line, that’s when Fred had locked the door
“Fred! what are you doing? Let us out!” (you and George started to yell)
“If you guys want out, then there’s something you should get off your chest first”
You both knew instantly what he was talking about
Fred’s plan was almost fool-proof except for the fact that both you and George had your wands and could just alohomora your way out
Oh, wait…
Fred had known you too well and knew you both always left your wands in the dorm during free time before dinner
“Fred this isn’t funny”(George was starting to get on edge)
“Do you hear me laughing?”
The closet was small(but who said you found it a problem(; )
A couple of minutes passed
“Look (y/n)…”(George began to say slowly)
“I- I like you”
“I like you a lot, more than a friend probably should”(was that his heart pounding in his chest George could hear?)
At that moment your head shot up to meet his gaze
Did he just confess his feeling to you?
Did he feel the same?
Hope began to form in your heart
“George…”(he was ready for his heart to be broken)
“I’ve felt that way since I first met you”(a smile began to break on your face)
When I tell you that that boys smile lit up the room
Nothing more was shared at that moment except for a hungry kiss
He had been craving your lips for awhile now
Of-course the moment only lasted so long before Fred swung the door open
“Ew, gross guys!”
The two of you just grinned
If you are not in Gryffindor, then your days usually consisted of sneaking into the others common room
It’s a usual thing
Cuddling on the couch
Playing board games
Your friends(and others in your house) are used to seeing George around
Surprisingly, you guys have never been caught(thanks to the marauders’ map)
He’s always waiting outside of the common room so you guys can walk to breakfast together
You guys always sit next to each other in the great hall
If you are in a different house, he will walk you to your common room at the end of the day and give you a kiss goodnight(which usually gets a bit heated)
Pet names
Darling and gorgeous are his most used
You can’t help but get butterflies every-time those words roll of his tongue
“Well hello gorgeous”
Small forms of PDA
Hand holding
Arm around your shoulder
Arm around your waist
Temple kisses
Cheek kisses
Knuckle kisses
He LOVES it when you play with his hair and just melts into your touch
I have a theory that the twins give the BEST hugs
Bear hugs that engulf you
Hugs from behind where he pulls you closer to him
(and he’s always so warm…like what?)
You love wearing his jumpers
Yes, they are always baggy on you
You love the smell of them though(strawberries, vanilla and a bit of a smoky hint)because it’s just like having George there
He gives you one of his jumpers to keep so you would stop stealing all his other ones
It’s your favourite item of clothing and you always wear it to bed
Your first “I love you” came out of nowhere
The two of you were in the common room studying for an upcoming test
You should have been in your bed by now but of-course this test was more important than your exhaustion
With papers strewn across the table and your hand cramping from writing, you continued with your work, although George had stopped
Suddenly, you had become aware of him gazing at you
“Can I help you?”
“It’s nothing, you’re just…so beautiful”
You couldn’t help the blush that bloomed on your cheeks
“I love you”
The phrase was just audible
You had looked up in shock unsure if you had heard right
George was yet to comprehend what he had said when it all hit him
“Oh (y/n), I’m sorry! It just sort of slipt out- I didn’t mean to say it- I mean I want to say it because I love you but not that-”
You just chuckled at his constant rambling
“George, calm down, I love you too”
“I don’t want to make you se- wait, what did you just say?”
“I love you too”(you said it gently)
“Really..?”(he didn’t sound too convinced)
In gesture, you gave him a sweet kiss, melting into the moment
It seemed to calm his mind
Spending summer and Christmas at the burrow
Molly loves you
She knits one of her famous sweaters for you for Christmas
If you are muggle-born(or even half-blood), Arthur loves when you tell stories about muggle life
When Ron was younger, he had a BIG crush on you
Now when he thinks about it, he just gets embarrassed
Ginny looks up to you(and thinks you’re a bad bish)
You and Ginny love to have sleepovers together and gossip about all the people in Hogwarts
You also get filled in on all her latest “love life” with Harry
Fred is one of your best and closest friends
He is happy that George found someone to make him happy
You’re Fred’s wing-women(although he doesn’t agree because you haven’t done the best of jobs)
You guys love to tease George together
Although it’s mainly just Fred teasing you and George
“Can you guys get a room?!”
It was in those moments that Fred may have regretted locking you guys in that closet
As much as he loves you, he does get a bit tired of hearing George talk about you all-day(nothing changed since he confessed his feelings for you)
Lee is also a close friend to you
It was only inevitable for you guys to bond with the twins being best friends with him
Many times have the two of you tried to get back at Fred and George with a prank
Sadly, the twins somehow always manage to know what you guys are planning
Let’s just say they prank you guys twice as hard for trying to outdo the masters
The twins are always playing “light” pranks on you
From dying your hair bright pink
To slipping a small amount of love potion into your drink
It’s always a risk being around the two of them
They love to get you involved in their pranks
This usually means standing guard though):
You remember this one time in potions when you were first learning about amortentia
There was a fresh batch of it at the front of the class and everyone around the room was trying to get a whiff
“Do I even have to ask what it smells like to you darling?”
You closed your eyes and gave a sharp inhale
“Vanilla, candy apples and amber” (you had said it so innocently)
George’s face was painted in horror
“What?!”
He was in disbelief because he KNEW he didn’t smell of amber or vanilla
“CEDRIC?!” (the twins spoke rather loudly in unison)
“But- I- wha-”(George began to stutter on)
At that point, you couldn’t hold in your laughter any longer
“I’m only joking!”
When I tell you how quick that boy calmed down
“Oh thank Merlin”
That was revenge for staining your teeth blue for a whole week!
In all honesty, the pained look on George’s face when he realised you may not love him pained your heart
On the other hand, Fred thought it was hilarious
(If) you play quidditch for Gryffindor, then you are a chaser, otherwise, you are whatever position you got placed into
If you are not in Gryffindor, then you are always watching the quidditch game and supporting the twins(unless it’s your house playing)
He loves to find you in the crowd
You’re his #1 fan
Steamy kisses after the game
If they win the game then it’s going to be a lot more than kissing(;
He has ended up in the hospital wing a couple of times because of the game
It has never been too serious but you still can’t help but worry for him
“You know, even with a black eye and bloody face, I’m still the better-looking twin”
Fred just cracked up
“He must still be a bit loopy from all that pain killer”
If you don’t play quidditch, then George has defiantly tried to teach you
It didn’t go too well
You ended up falling off the broom at only 1 meter off the ground
Face-planted into the grass
Ended with you having a dislocated jaw
George felt guilty for the rest of the month and wouldn’t stop apologising
Meanwhile, Fred had fallen on his ass from laughing too hard
Trips to Hogsmeade
Raiding Honeydukes
Dates at the Three Broomsticks
Drinking enough butterbeer to get tipsy
Lots of puns and dad jokes
You were once learning how to produce a Patronus in DA when someone had just spelled a deer
You looked over at George to see him struggling a bit with the spell
And that’s when the awful pun left his mouth
“Oh deer, I just can’t seem to produce a Patronus”
You tried to hold in your laugh
“Shove off Weasley”
He takes you to the Yule Ball
It’s a magical night
Full of dancing
Screaming the lyrics to the songs playing
Drinking fire whisky that Fred had smuggled in
Drunk snogging to the point where Snape found you guys and took 5 points off each of you
Dancing around the common room
Sneaking into the kitchens to steal food
Tickle fights(I feel like George is very ticklish)
Swimming in the Black Lake on a dare
Snowball fights in the winter
He never fails to make you laugh
He is more of the shy, reserved twin
Sometimes you just have to remind him that he is loved and noticed
He will compare himself to Fred and it will never be positive
You will reassure him and hold him for however long he needs
If what he needs is a good vent then you are ready to listen no matter what you are doing
He is more important
He is also more of the jealous twin
Don’t get me wrong, he won’t go all psycho boyfriend when he sees another guy talking to you
He respects you and knows you would never leave him for someone else
But if there is flirting going on or the guy is trying to make a move
Let’s just say his temper won’t last long
“Hello darling”
Que passionate kiss between George and you
“Sorry mate, she’s already taken”
You had never seen a guys face go paler
Or seen George go so smug
He always knows what to do when you’re sad
He will listen to your every last word if you have to vent
Or he will hold you in his arms for hours while whispering sweet nothings into your ear if all you want to do is cry it out
By the end of it, you can’t help but feel just a little bit better because of him
He loves to hear about your day and you can’t deny that he is the best listener
He low key has separation anxiety
He LOVES to spoon
Definitely the big spoon
Although he can’t help but love to be the little spoon sometimes
“Hey um…Do you mind if we?…”
“You wanna be the little spoon?”
“Yes please…”
He’s smiling on the inside
He may be a little shy in public but he’s a freak in the sheets if you know what I mean(;
He’s usually top but it drives him crazy if you switch rolls
I feel like he’s a hair puller?
Will always make sure you’re comfortable with everything
Super gentle at times
But also can be rough…
Would never do anything that would hurt you
Lots of cuddling after
He loves to give you flowers just to see you get all flustered
One time he stole flowers from the school grounds
Little did he know, Mcgonagall had seen the whole thing
“Mr Weasley, are those flowers from Professor Sprout’s greenhouse?”
The look on his face was a dead give away
“Funny story actually Professor…”
Let’s just say it wasn’t the funniest of stories
Braiding his longer hair
Showers together
Piggyback rides to class
Studying in the library with Fred(but he usually just gets bored and leaves)
He reads to you
Basically he is perfect in every way and will love you till the end
warnings: underage drinking, partying, fireworks. not proofread sjdbjdbd. pls tell me if I missed anything<3
summary: it’s your bestfriends’ birthday and you thought of giving them the best present you could ever have
a/n: shebhdv hii!! since it’s my favorite twins’ birthday today and also since it’s april fools, I thought of writing something for them. happy birthday fred and george! you guys will forever be in my hearts<3
italics are flashbacks
you woke up at exactly 8:30 am this morning feeling very excited. Today marked your calendar as April 1st, which was none other than your best friends’ birthday. you had planned something a few days ago to surprise the boys. something you knew they’d love.
you, fred, and george had been friends since your first year at hogwarts when george bumped into you on the train.
“georgie come quick! the compartments are nearly full!” you heard a red head say.
“mom, dad, I’ve got to go. i love you guys!” and after one last kiss to their cheek, you left your parents and went into the train. you looked around to find an empty compartment, until you felt your head hit something hard. “ouch!” you heard someone say. you looked up and saw a red haired boy, one who looked similar to the boy you saw earlier.
“I’m sorry” you said. “it’s ok” the boy sent you a small smile and held his hand out for you to get up. “i’m George by the way! George weasley!”
“i’m y/n y/l/n! nice to meet you!” you said in a cheery voice. you saw someone approaching George, someone who looked identical to him. “George, come onnn! I’ve found a place” he said before looking at you. “and who might this be?”
“hi my name’s y/n!” “fred weasley!” he shook your hand before telling George to come with him. George looked at you and asked if you wanted to sit with them, and who were you to decline such an offer. the three of you talked about random stuff. you learned that they were in the same year as you, and that they loved pranking. they told you a lot about their stories from home and you told them about yours. you knew from there that you had made your first friends. Hogwarts would be fun.
And you were right. Fred and George became your best friends. Along with Lee, the four of you were the most iconic group at Hogwarts.
You went to the great hall for breakfast, sitting right in between the twins. “happy birthday!” you said to the both of them with a big smile. they both said thank you and gave you a kiss on the cheek.
While eating your breakfast and chatting a bit, you remembered something you had to do, which may or may not have something to do with the twins birthday present.
“i have to go now, I’ll see you later guys!” you said “whyyyy? it’s only been a few minutes and you haven’t even finished your breakfast yet” fred said with a pout. “I’ve got to go do something freddie”
“which is??” George asked. you quickly thought of an excuse and said “homework.”
“really? it’s a weekend and I don’t even think anyone’s assigned something for us to do” said fred. “how would you know? you always skip classes and when you don’t, you don’t even listen” you said unimpressed. Fred let out another pout and said, “m’kay fine. but be back soon!”
“okay bye guys!”
———
After setting up your present you went to the gryffindor common room. you saw fred, george, and lee at the couch and went to sit with them.
“Look who finally came,” George said with a smirk. “oh shut it weasley” you replied teasingly. george put his hand on his chest as he pretended to be hurt and said, “really y/n? and on my birthday *sighs* such a bully”. all of you burst out laughing.
you laid your head on george’s shoulder as you thought about how lucky you are to have both these idiots as your friends.
———
The gryffindor common room was loud. loud music blasting, and everyone either drunk, or dancing. You knew there was a party, of course there was. It was the weasley twins’ birthday for god sake. You just needed to find a way to be able to get the twins outside.
Once you thought of something, you went through the crowd, whispering a string of ‘excuse me’ s and ‘coming through’. you found fred and george dancing, both with drinks in their hands.
“boys I need you outside for a minute” you said. they both nodded and went outside to the courtyard with you. “what’s up?” George started.
“Well I’ve planned this a few days ago, and since it’s your birthday, I wanted to do something special, something the both of you would enjoy.” they both had a look of both confusion and excitement as you lifted a sheet off a fireworks set. “just look up”.
you then set the fireworks off, and it exploded in the sky, revealing a string of different colors. then the ‘grand finale’, as you liked to call it, finally came. it was a firework that said ‘happy birthday fred and george, i love you guys’. you looked at the boys and they both had wide smiles on their faces. they looked at you and each gave you a hug. “thank you so much for this y/n, we loved it. although there is one problem.” Fred said, looking at George who immediately got what Fred was talking about. “yeah? and what might that be?” you nervously said, “you set up fireworks without us, and that is a crime” George continued.
you sighed in relief and said “oh I’m glad you liked it. I did get extra fireworks though, it’s over there” you pointed to the extra fireworks, and they both ran towards it. “have fun with it. happy birthday guys! i love you both so damn much.”
“we love you too y/n” and just like that, you spent the entire night setting off fireworks, which may or may not have landed you in detention.
based off “this is how you fall in love” by chelsea cutler and jeremy zucker
warning: mention of death and nightmares
word count: 1.3k
It was all so incredibly loud, the yelling and the crashing against his mother’s arms. Freddie laid out on the stretcher with ghostly pale skin and dirt over his brow, his normal smile replace by the ghost of a smile.
Ghost.
George could only hope Fred would be a happy ghost as he held his body to his chest, he didn’t deserve to spend the afterlife in pain. Freddie never deserved pain, someone that gentle always got the short end of the stick.
Ron collapsed across from him, his body shaking as he brushes ginger hair from his eye. George had been crying so hard he couldn’t even feel the tears as they stretch the length of his face.
Freddie was dead.
He hadn’t been out of Hogwarts but a year or so, yet he was on the floor of the very Great Hall the two would scream jokes at the top of their lungs. They grew up in these halls, yet he was lifeless all the same.
The room was caving in, the roof falling in as everyone ran screaming from the madness. George didn’t move, he couldn’t. He wanted to join Freddie, he didn’t want to be in a world that let young boys die for another young boy, where war was a normal Sunday afternoon.
“George.”
Freddie was calling him, he was going to see Freddie.
“George!”
The voice was panic, yelling for him to move. Did Freddie not want to see him?
“George!”
His body jolted from the pillow, his body clammy against the rough sheets of the Queen size bed. The finger on his shoulder was cool over his skin, calming his racing heart. He glanced around the room, the ceiling was perfectly intact and the dresser across from him told him he wasn’t in the Great Hall.
“Sweets?”
George jumped, whipping around to find his lover’s worried face inches from his own. Their lips in a delicate frown as their finger drew constellations over his freckles.
It was all a sick twisted dream. Fred died four years ago, he was long gone from the Burrow and the joke shop.
“Do you want something to drink?”
He couldn’t explain the release he felt hearing their voice, as if they pulled the nasty roots from his soil in order to plant the prettiest tulips. As if just their voice could ground him back to the world.
“Maybe,” his voice was hoarse, “some tea?”
They rushed from bed, their finger leaving a warmth against his skin as they hurried from the room. They didn’t bother putting on a robe in the freezing house in the late hours of a December night. George was the only thing on their mind.
He slowly eased from the bed, slipping out onto the carpet on the floor. His slippers would’ve only made his feet sweat, he was still coming down from the cold sweats, but he grabs the blue robe flung over the chair. Draping it over his arm, slowly making his way down the narrow hall of the house.
The pictures hung on the wall bought a small smile to his face, his mother and his lover holding one another and Percy with the twins before they ever entered Hogwarts. The wall on the right was dedicated to pictures of Fred, ones of (Y/N) and Fred from the Great Hall, and family pictures at the Burrow. George wished he took more pictures, he never liked how he looked enough, but he wished he would’ve just to have a small piece of Fred still with him.
His feet slide across the hardwood floor, easily finding (Y/N) rushing around the kitchen in the bright kitchen light. They glide around the room like a ballroom, their feet jumping over every loose board and missing each corner by an inch. They were used to the quirks of the kitchen they had lived in so long. They fit right in with the soft yellow walls and the green high stools as if the moment was out of a film the muggle would give awards too.
“You should’ve stayed in bed,” George was bought back, watching as they pour some tea into the mug.
“I hated the way the sheets felt on my legs,” he walked through the threshold, leaning on the small kitchen island while studying their face. Their lip held between their teeth and their eyebrows so focused on the milk mixture with the golden liquid.
“I’ll change ‘em, put the silks on,” they slide the tea across the island, trying to move around the change the sheets in the hurry. George stuck his arm out, grabbing their bicep before they could make it to the living room.
“Please don’t leave.”
Their body was beside his in a second, their finger tracing on his shoulder again, as if they weren’t running from the room seconds ago. He never thought people were meant to be fixed, no it never made sense, but he couldn’t help but feel grounded just by their touch alone.
“You always make it better,” his voice was barely above a whisper as he took a small sip from his cup. Perfect, just like he would’ve made it himself.
“I’m just here for you,” their breath fanning over his back, the sticky sweat running from the sweet breath of his lover.
“How do you do it so easily? How do you make it better?”
George never thought anyone would comfort him like Freddie, they were twins. You couldn’t match their bond, and while they didn’t, (Y/N) always could touch him on a different level. Of course, they could really touch him, like their finger on his skin or the kisses on his neck, but the grip they had on his heart was like a headlock.
“Love,” they answer would’ve made George laugh at any other time, telling them they watch too much Disney, but he couldn’t help but wonder.
“You think?”
“I know, falling in love can make things better when done right,” their chin rested on his back. He felt so at home like the nightmare was thought away in a far-off land.
“How do you do that? Falling in love?”
George knew he loved (Y/N), they’ve been saying it and showing it for years, but he never quite remember how it happened. He couldn’t recall a moment in time where he came to the conclusion, he just remembered saying it one day and saying it every day after that.
“This,” their words were confident, “this is how you fall in love.”
Maybe that’s why he couldn’t pinpoint it because there wasn’t a moment where it wasn’t like this. They always held him and made his tea perfect, never pushing to talk about anything. He always wondered about the world and they always seemed to have an answer, even when they didn’t. It had always been like this for the two, it was always like this between them. They had been slowly falling in love before every poet and writer’s very eyes, but at this moment as their finger traced stars on his back and the heat from the tea fanned over his chin, he knew his love was always this deep.
“I love you,” his arm wrapped around their shoulder, bringing them against his chest.
“I love you,” their eyelashes brushed against his pale skin, making his heart rate spike out of pure enjoyment of the domestic life before him.
He knew Freddie would be watching him, a proud smile on his face as he held on to his rock. He knew Freddie would want someone like (Y/N) to take care of him if he couldn’t do it himself.
He knew Freddie could feel the love he felt even from the afterlife.
Summary:The Great Hall is quiet. Too quiet. You go looking for your boys—Fred and George—to see what sort of trouble you’re getting yourself into today. As always, trouble finds you first, as does your dumbass boyfriend and his twin.
Requested by @pearlll09:So uh I’m a bit of a simp for the weasley twins… your prompt list gave me an idea! If you want, pick a twin you’d be comfortable writing (i usually go for george cause he doesn’t die ToT) and do a reader insert with happy 7 - I’m sure that whoever ends up with the line, it will be great :) Prompt:“Hey! I may be a dumbass, but I’m yourdumbass.”
Key: (H/h) - Hogwarts house, (Y/N) - your name Warnings:mild cursing, threats, gender neutral reader!! Word Count: 1,169 (nice)
Author’s Note: u always give me the best characters pearl ty!!! I’m a simp for George Weasley too so this was a lot of fun to write ajsldfkj. I couldn’t find a good excuse to use a poem for the title, so this one has a normal title smh my head.
The Great Hall is mostly quiet, which is highly unusual. Although, the absence of the Weasley twins might explain that absurdity.
You don’t see the matching heads of ginger hair when you enter for breakfast that morning. There are three other gingers at the Gryffindor table, but no two of them are closely paired, so they must be the other Weasleys. You make a beeline for the short-haired one that isn’t speaking loudly and obnoxiously—that’d be Percy—who isn’t sitting far from the long-haired one—Ginny.
“Good morning, you three!” you declare, sitting down right next to Harry, who sits across from Hermione and Ron.
(You shouldn’t really be sitting with them, a fifth year (H/h) that you are, but you’re a common enough staple of the Weasley family that it’s not entirely unexpectedeither.)
“Good morning, (Y/N),” the trio echoes in sync, which makes you grin.
“Gotten up to any trouble yet?” you ask, which is a frighteningly common question, especially concerning the Weasleys.
Hermione sighs. “The day is still young.”
“Oh, poor Hermione,” you say dramatically, reaching over to pat her shoulder in false comfort. “Just admit you like it as much as they do and your life will be much easier, promise.”
“(Y/N)’s speaking from experience,” Ron adds through a mouthful of food.
You nod proudly. “Speaking of my experience—have you seen my boys this morning?”
“No sign of them yet, thank Merlin,” their younger brother says immediately. “Why? Something planned?”
Your shrug is mischievous. “Maybe.”
“Theyalways have something planned,” Hermione counters.
Harry smiles. “I saw them in the common room this morning; heard something about Filch, too, but that’s it. They’ll be in time for Quidditch practise, won’t they?”
“On time? Maybe. But they’ll definitely be there,” you agree with a snicker. “I should go find them.”
Before you can leave, Ron huffs. “At least eat something, (Y/N).”
Harry raises his eyebrows at the very clear Mom tone to his voice, the same tone that has you rolling your eyes. You reach across the table anyway, snatching up a jam-covered piece of toast and standing.
“Better, Mum?” you ask once you’ve swallowed.
He scoffs, flushing. “Shut up.”
“You’d miss the voice of reason,” you retort. “Cheers, kids. See you in a bit!”
“Kids?” you hear Hermione snort after you leave. “We’re only two years below!”
“(Y/N) calls everyone younger a kid, ‘Mione,” Ron reminds her fondly. “Don’t take it personally.”
You dart out of the Great Hall, taking a loose path to Filch’s office. If Fred and George aren’t there, at least Filch might have an idea of where they have been this morning. He and Mrs Norris always have their eyes on you three, but they’ve never caught you long enough to make a dent in your rebellious streak. Merlin, if Molly Weasley can’t stop you, nobody can. And despite her best efforts, she is slowly losing that fight.
Whistling a merry tune, you turn a corner, only to stop and grin at the sound of a familiar gleeful laugh. It’s more of a devilish cackle, actually.
Down the hall, two distinct redheads are sprinting in your direction.
(Fred is the one that cackles. George prefers a good snicker.)
“What in Merlin’s name have you two—?”
“No time to talk, Filch on our tail, run!” George summarizes as they come upon you, grabbing your arm and dragging you along.
Back down the hall, a very pissed off caretaker screams: “YOU FILTHY BRATS! GET BACK HERE! I’LL HANG YOU BY YOUR TOES!”
You laugh, a loud and clear sound that bounces off the walls. It has George grinning wider than before as the two of you split off from Fred, the other twin disappearing as quickly as they’d appeared. Your boyfriend’s hand slips from your sleeve, but you immediately grasp his hand instead.
Dragged around another corner, you realise immediately that your boys must have planned this daring escape, because George quickly ducks into a tiny alcove with an empty wardrobe.
He closes the door behind you, the both of you crammed into the small space.
You press your fingers against his lips to quiet his heavy breathing, which earns you a huff of indignation. Not about to laugh aloud at the pout on his face, you simply smile.
Footsteps storm outside, right past the alcove. They pass, but neither of you move, too cautious to let Filch lure you into a false sense of security. He’s quiet for a long moment, but then he starts walking away, the taps of his boots growing ever further.
The moment he’s out of earshot, George lets out a breath of relief.
You start laughing quietly into his shoulder, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulder.
“It’s not even 9, George,” you wheeze, wiping at unshed tears.
“Perfect timing, right? Now he’ll be mad all day,” he says with a pleased smile. “I thought it was brilliant.”
You lean forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “You’re a dumbass!”
“Hey! I may be a dumbass, but I’m yourdumbass.” He buries a hand in your hair, pouting again.
“My dumbass,” you clarify, rolling your eyes. “Harry was worried you’d miss Quidditch.”
“Never,” he declares. “Ridiculous, that. Oliver would have our heads.”
You snicker. “If you’re late again, he’s going to hunt you down. You know that, right? Worse than when you dyed his hair.”
“Let’s remember who saved me last time he got mad,” he teases, booping your nose.
“Because I love you and I always get you out of trouble.”
A sappy smile crosses his features. “Yeah. You’re good at that.”
He leans forward—a task that’s not difficult in the small space—kissing you gently, which has you smiling into it.
The wardrobe doors fly open and you split apart, faces flushed and smiling ridiculously.
“Oi!” says Fred, faking disgust. “No time for making out, lovebirds! We have Quidditch practise to get to!”
“Shut up, Fred,” you and George say in sync, bursting into laughter.
He scoffs, grabbing his brother’s shirt and dragging him out of the wardrobe. Instead of that same rough movement with you, he offers you a hand, which you take. Gracefully stepping out of the wardrobe, you snicker when the twins shove each other.
“Knock it off, you two,” you chide, taking George’s arm in yours. You pull Fred over to you and do the same on your other side, grinning.
“Good morning, (Y/N),” Fred finally greets properly.
You snort. “It was until someone decided to drag me away from breakfast.”
“I can make it up to you,” George says instantly, maneuvering your arms so that you’re holding hands instead. “Trip to the kitchens before Quidditch?”
“Soundslovely,” you decide. “And then we should talk about our product line-up, because I have some ideas.”
He grins. “Of course you do. You’re brilliant.”
Fred fakes a gag. George lets go of your hand just long enough to smack the back of his head, making you snicker.
