the one thing mattheo couldn’t have in his life, he never thought it’d be a girl.
girls came easy, but they were never anything that came to mind too much; he had other things to worry about, things to do.
but he’d never thought that that girl, the girl he wanted, would be one of his best friends girl.
none of his friends were ever loyal, none of them except theo. he was a sucker for those long term relationships because the type of girls who were only looking for one night stands and hook ups made him annoyed and had more issues than he could deal with, it was too bad he got stuck with one exactly like that.
you loved theo, more than anyone, but old habits died hard. especially with all of theo’s friends breathing down your neck, begging for a taste.
but you never gave in, not until mattheo.
when you first met him, he didn’t say a word to you. you weren’t even aware of him half the time, his presence was forgettable till your eyes always seemed to find his and his body always seemed to be pressed up against yours in your dreams.
it soon became very obvious who you wanted and he knew it when he was no longer the one initiating the starring—giving him the go ahead to push your buttons.
“i’ll fuck you straight.”
“yeah, you wish riddle,” you starred back at him with a challenging look, “good luck on getting the chance.”
he scoffed, “you act like you’re so loyal.”
you immediately frowned in annoyance, “and you act like you’re all that.”
he smiled, leaning over to your level, “because i am.”
you rolled your eyes, looking him up and down with what looked like disgust, “hop off your throne, riddle. i love my boyfriend.”
“it sure doesn’t seem like it when you’re looking at me,” he tipped his head slightly, a fake expression of thought coming over his face, “you better work on that, y/n, otherwise i’m not going to be the only one who notices.”
he walked away, but some part of you wished he hadn’t and that the looks you two shared, would be caught on to, so you could just get it over with and finally get to fuck him.
that came sooner rather than later—but not how you thought. the opportunity was practically handed to the two of you when half the boys were out for gallivanting down in the forbidden forest and theo had told you to wait for him in the common room.
it was too bad he was running late.
“why don’t you sit down?” mattheo’s stare was narrowing and studying as he motioned you to sit in the big black leather chair across from him. “you’ve got a while longer to wait.”
you scoffed, “alright, but i’m sure theo-“
“who cares about theodore, he’s probably fucking around with a blonde from ravenclaw, anyway.”
the sentence caught you off guard and made you slightly pause as you sat down. you sure he was just messing with you, but with the right motivation and pressure, theo could get convinced into anything—maybe even fucking around with a blonde ravenclaw.
“he wouldn’t do that.”
“right, because you’re the cheater in the relationship.”
you scowled at him, but your cheeks turned red at the truth of his words. he knew you well for some reason. he knew you weren’t honest—never in any relationship had you ever been in—and he knew you were also easily pressured into things.
“why don’t you show me something,” he nodded toward you, “don’t try to hide your true colors now that we’re alone.”
“piss off.”
“now don’t he so harsh.”
you rolled your eyes, thinking, thinking how wrong this was but still stood up from your seat across from him, and you still slowly glided toward him while your fingers grasped the top buttons of your pure white blouse, “don’t tell.”
“no promises,” he grinned, sipping from the bottle as you were now in front of him, slowly leaning before him still teasing the unbuttoning of your shirt.
“mattheo,” you whined, but still continuing with your actions, giving him a peak of your black laced bra. “you’re not being nice.”
he pulled you to his lap roughly, causing you to gasp as you were now straddling him, “why would i?” his fingers reached where yours were, helping you unbutton the material of your shirt, “you’re so damn teasing all the time.”
you rocked your hips forward, pouting at his words, “shame.” mattheo breath became uneven for the slightest second, his eyes dragging up to yours at the feeling of your heat pressing onto his cock.
“you’re fucking, cunt,” he scoffed, shaking his head with a slight smirk on his face. “don’t act like you don’t want this as much as i do.”
“sure, mattheo,” you tauntingly smiled, rocking back and forth again before pressing your lips against his. he immediately kissed back, his hands slowly pulling the blouse from your arms.
he smelled good and he felt good—you felt you could barely get enough despite how close he was with his arms wrapped around you now, pulling you closer and closer till his chest was pressed against yours.
he was making you desperate, real desperate with his taunting that you could barely keep up the returning taunting facade.
“let me cum in your mouth, yeah?” he pulled away and was already unbuckling his belt from beneath you, cuing you to get off the chair and to your hands and knees as he stood, “be a good girl, suck me off, y/n.”
you nodded slowly, deciding whether if this was really okay… but you suddenly didn’t care, especially when your mouth started watering the moment his cock sprung from his boxers, thick and waiting for you.
“ready, love,” he didn’t wait for your words and he barely waited for you; his hips meeting your mouth, eager, “fuck,” you eased your mouth down his length, eyes already watering even before the tip of his cock touched the back of your throat.
“such a fucking good girl,” he grunted, his hand twirling a make shift pony tail of your hair while his head tipped back, his mind filling of bliss with each suck you took. “you love my cock, don’t you?”
he thrusted into your mouth, face fucking you, helping you induce pleasure as you tried to keep up by running and swirling your tongue along his length.
you couldn’t even think to answer, or hum, or anything. you were enjoying too much and couldn’t help let your mind travel already to fast to the thought of him fucking you.
you could tell he wanted to just by how much enjoyment he was getting from this.
and he pulled out abruptly, leaving spit and precum running down your chin with teary eyes, “let me cum inside you, show theo who really owns your body.”
you let him lay you down against the cold floor, his body hovering over yours as he undone his dress shirt before pulling it off fast with eager fingers, that watched you with dark eyes.
you watched anxiously, your eyes eating every inch of his body and the scars that decorated his tan skin. your chest heaved up and down, your heart pounding, underestimating what he might do with the stare he had.
he gripped his cock, stroking it roughly before laying on your body fully, hiking up your skirt and pushing your parties to the side. he kissed you softly before pushing into you, prompting a sharp whine to resonate from your lips, “take it.”
your hands gripped his shoulders as he slowly inch into you before harshly shoving his full length into your cunt, immediately catching into your sweet spot. a high moan released into the air as your stomach rumbled with pleasure and pain to your walls from just barely getting used to the thickness of his cock.
“fucking whore,” he continued to fuck into you as his mouth began to speak nasty words that made your stomach twist in pleasure, whimpering as he spoke. “you love your boyfriend’s best mate using you like a doll?”
you gasped as his hand caught your face, gripping it harshly, “of course you do,” he smiled devilishly before, slapping the side of your hip, “get on your knees.”
you whimpered as you did so, his hands immediately gripping your hips and continuing to fuck you stupid the moment he pushed into you again. his finger tips pained you as he pressed hard enough to leave bruises.
“i want him to know who fucked you this good,” his hand grasped your throat, pulling you closer to his body as his mouth hovered over your ear before sucking and biting on your neck. “i want him to see what a dirty little whore you are, taking me without denial.”
“mattheo, please,” you whined, grabbing his hand that lied on your hip, “please don’t.”
“don’t what, huh?”
“please don’t leave marks.”
you could feel his cock twitch to the whine of your voice, a grunt resonating from his mouth. he didn’t say a word to reply but began to savor the few minutes left of his high, roughly pumping in and out of you as you moaned—soon coming upon your own.
“who fucks you better, huh?” he leaned back near your face, “me or him, tell me?“
“you mattheo,” you stuttered, feeling your vision go blurry and your limbs grow numb the moment his high came undone and pushed cum deep into your cunt, leaving you marked.
Summary: Halloween with Draco <3 Friends into BOO’s (teehee)
Warnings: mild drinking nothing tooo crazy but not encouraging it !
Words: 5.2K
A/N: this is my first one shot in like a month and i ofc had to do something for halloween even tho im a tad late but its still a halloweekend KIND OF !!!!!!! </3 I HOPE ITS GOOOD
“No, it’s a stupid holiday.”
Draco crossed his arms in a stubborn child-like way, a scowl on his face as he stared forward towards the front of the class where Snape was giving a lecture on the small but vicious Erkling creatures.
“Come on, please,” you pleaded quietly. Your gaze kept flickering between your easily-irked professor and the pouting blond beside you, hoping that in a few short seconds you would get the answer you were hoping for that way you could get back into your notes instead of possibly getting a detention or losing house points.
In all the years you’ve been friends with the Prince of Slytherin, you learned that he loathed the holiday and any festivities that came with it. Every year, you beg him to go out to one of the many parties that are thrown ranging from small gatherings to full-on blowouts or just do something halloween related with you, but he always refuses. His reasoning, as he put it, was that he was simply ‘too mature to be dressing up as a foul creature.’
You knew he mostly spent the holiday either asleep in his dorm or walking around aimlessly with Crabbe and Goyle to target unsuspecting first-years after the big feast but this year, you finally had enough of his anti-halloween agenda. You wanted to spend the evening and hopefully night with him laughing by your side and showing him how fun everything could be, but most of all - you wanted to see him in a costume.
“Please, if you go I will never ask you for anything ever again,” you tried again once Snape had turned his back to the class.
Draco pursed his lips as though he was genuinely considering it, his eyes still locked on the back of the greasy-haired professor before he turned slightly to you with a deep sigh. “Fine, but don’t expect this to be an annual thing.”
You gave him a bright smile, holding yourself back from jumping around in your seat and completely pushing aside the desire to throw your arms around him in excitement.
“I promise you’ll have fun.”
He hid the small smile that grew on his face from seeing how happy his answer made you, turning his head down towards his parchment filled with notes that all of a sudden seemed interesting as he avoided your gaze. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was the smallest bit of excited at the thought of spending the holiday with you because he knew that wherever you went or whatever you did, he would be perfectly content with you by his side because for the first time in all your years as friends; he realized only a month ago that the weird fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach when he was around you or the weird overwhelming warmth that spread throughout his entire body like an ocean of water breaking through a dam - was a crush. He hated it at first, noticing and begrudgingly acknowledging it. He thought it was cliche that he somehow fell for one of his closest friends and mostly, he thought that he was going to ruin the friendship entirely. He wanted to wreck it himself, trying to distance himself from you and being extra mean - but he couldn’t.
He adored your company too much and everything that came with you. He adores your laugh, your smile, your hugs when you greet him and how you somehow give him one each time he needs it the most. He adores the study-buddy system you guys have almost every other week before a quiz or an exam. He adores your bad jokes and clumsy accidents even though those qualities annoy him with anyone else. He adores the way you want him to join you in everything fun you and he especially adores the times when he overhears you talking about him as if he’s your favorite person in the world.
Bottom line, he’s all about you.
So when this season of spookiness came, he was expecting your pleading for him to spend the day with you. Only this time, it only took you a couple times before he ultimately agreed to give in to you.
You were ready to explode with thrill at the thought of what the night held in store for you and you didn’t hide it one bit. When the big Hogwarts Hallowe’en feast was over and every one began spilling out from the Great Hall and into the main foyer, you were searching restlessly for a clean mop of silver hair that almost always stuck out in the mass of students. You weren’t sure if you were able to spot him anywhere in under a few seconds because he was unimaginably important to you, or because his hair was so uniquely bright, or maybe it was how boisterous and loud Crabbe and Goyle always were when they were by him, especially if he was with other Slytherins - but you found him, every single time with ease.
After standing on your tippy-toes several times to overlook the stampede of everyone, you finally spotted Draco leaning across a pillar with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face while he stood in a circle of his House friends that included his two goons and his quidditch teammates. You watched him thoughtfully as you approached, taking slow steps towards the group to admire him from afar and also because they were all slightly intimidating. He looked lost in the conversation, laughs escaping from his upturned lips as he listened to whatever was being said, large pale hands running through his hair every so often when the front pieces of his hair would flop down to his forehead.
He looked ridiculously good and effortlessly at that.
You weren’t sure if you should interrupt, hesitating a few feet away from them to where they couldn’t sense your presence but you were close enough to see and hear them clearly.
“We’ll see you later tonight then, Malfoy?” One of the boys nodded towards Draco.
“I’ll show up for a bit, I suppose,” he shrugs.
You see him look around the circle of boys, eyes landing on you momentarily and then back to his friends before doing a double-take towards you again in surprise. You tried to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach when his smile widens slightly into a short-lived toothy grin while he said a quick goodbye to his friends causing them all to disband and him to start approaching you.
“Are you ready for the halloween of a lifetime?” You ask as he neared.
He rolled his eyes, laughing faintly. “Where am I meeting you, darling?”
The nick name he used so rarely for you made your knees feel weak, a warm blush rushing up your neck and inching onto your cheeks that you knew was going to be very apparent on your face in a few seconds.
“I’ll meet you right here in an hour,” you say quickly.
You didn’t give him time to answer before you turned quickly in the direction of your common room and began rushing away before he could see the effect he had on you that was so clearly appearing on your face.
You didn’t know what the night held for you and Draco or where it would lead you. Unknowing to you, you were both hoping something more could come out of the evening between the two of you. But he wasn’t one to express himself in that department of feelings and you weren’t feeling bold enough to say anything about yours. It was a gray area of hoping that fate could somehow intervene and throw the two of you into what you both wanted without either of you really saying anything - but it was impossible. There was no outcome or situation you had in mind that could lead you into that, so you were stuck desperately hoping that one day things might end up differently.
It was beginning to feel ironic how in your world full of real tangible magic, there wasn’t a magical solution to your problem. You were trapped feeling like a muggle who had to figure things out by themselves, no magic included. The thought of giving him a love potion did cross your mind as a joke, but it wasn’t a genuine or fair option but little did you know, you don’t need a potion for him to feel the same way - because he already did.
Walking into your dorm felt like an exuberant disaster of everyone running around and sitting in front of mirrors with their makeup or dressing into their costumes. It was noisy and filled with chatter and you were in shock from how much clutter everyone was able to make in such a short period of time from when the feast ended to now. A simple spell would clean everything up so you and everybody else didn’t really pay it any mind.
You maneuvered around the mess of your housemates and towards your bed where your costume was kept in the trunk underneath it, plopping down onto the floor to pull it from the underskirt of your House colored bedding.
“Did he finally say yes?” Your closest roomie friend jumped onto your bed, propping herself up on her elbows and resting her chin on her hands as she watched you dig through your bottomless trunk.
“Surprisingly, yes,” you answered, hiding the smile on your face.
She drawled out a teasing ‘ooh,’ poking your arm lightly with her index finger as you shied away and leaned deeper into your trunk. She was the only one who you willingly admitted your crush to as she was the only person you really trusted to not blather it off to someone.
“Will I be seeing you two in the Slytherin common room?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “The boys are throwing a party and I luckily got an invite, you know how they are. So picky with who shows up.”
“You mean they’re pretentious?” You laugh. “But I don’t know if we’ll be going to it. I know Draco obviously got invited but I was thinking we could do other things.”
“Like what?” She questions as if she knew it was going to be something dirty. “I know a few secret spots around the castle-”
“No, get your mind out of the gutter,” you smack her arm lightly. “I honestly have no clue what to do. I didn’t think he’d actually agree because he never does.”
She runs her hands over her face, stifling her laughs of disbelief before she sighed loudly. “I still suggest some broom closets, hidden out of sight.”
You sit up, pushing her from where she was lying while she laughed amusingly at your false horrified reaction that you put on to hide the fact from her that what she was suggestion really waswhat you wanted.
“I’ll leave you alone so you can get your costume on,” she smiles, jumping up from your bed and tossing one of your pillows at you as she walked away. You let out a huff, tossing it back onto your duvet before setting your costume down on the spot your friend was lying in.
You stared at it hesitantly, all of a sudden feeling nauseous at the thought of going out later with Draco as if it was some sort of date even though you knew it wasn’t. It was just two friends, hanging out, doing some spooky and fun Halloween activities together and nothing more; so why were you feeling so nervous? You weren’t sure if it was your instincts warning you of something major that was approaching or the fear that what you didn’t have planned was going to bite you in the arse when you continuously told Draco he was going to enjoy himself when you didn’t even know if that was going to be true. You didn’t want to disappoint him and mess it up for you in the future when the holiday came again and you didn’t want this to be the first and last time you experienced it with him.
The pressure was raining down on you like thick, hard pieces of hail with no end in sight.
As you were getting dressed and doing your makeup for your costume as you liked, (i’m trying to be vague for your own imagination teehee) all you could think about was what in the hell you were going to do once you met up with the Prince of Slytherin. Your train of thought was then derailed into wondering what he was going to be dressed up as or if he was going to be dressed up at all considering the way he is. He was the type to make fun of people who dressed up, that you knew when you ran into him last year as you were walking back to your common room with your friend, both of you in costume and victims of his gentle bullying. He obviously went easier on the two of you since you were there, telling you he was just messing around afterwards and saying he liked yours but once you were out of his sight but still in ear-shot, you heard him and his two minions berating a small group of people that unfortunately passed by them.
You gave yourself one last look in the floor mirror, letting out a long shaky exhale with your hands clasped together before you started towards the way out of your dorm, through the common room, and ultimately towards the foyer outside the Great Hall where Draco was most likely waiting for you. An hour had gone by since you last saw him, an hour of stress and panic that hadn’t slowed down or stopped.
Your shoes dragged against the stone floors, hugging yourself tightly as you walked nearer towards the spot where you were supposed to meet and as you lifted your gaze - you saw him there, staring right at you with a small grin and just like you expected, no costume.
“Nice costume,” he compliments when you reach him.
“Where’s yours?” You frown.
“I’m not dressing up. That’s embarrassing,” he shakes his head.
You scoff, crossing your arms. “You’re the only one not dressed up,that’sembarrassing.”
You don’t know why it was irritating to you that he wasn’t in costume, even if you knew he wasn’t. You figured it was because you were trying to overpower your nervousness with different more consuming feelings, and much to your and Draco’s dismay, it worked.
You weren’t nervous anymore, just irked.
“I’m staying like this, take it or leave it.”
You rolled your eyes, staring him down and hoping that he would change his mind but he wouldn’t. He was ridiculously stubborn.
In the heat of the moment of a fleeting thought, you decided that if he wasn’t going to be in costume, you would put him in one or at least a hint of one. You pulled your wand out, pointing it onto his striking white hair and with one easy spell, his hair was now a flaming vibrant red.
“Y/N!” He growled, running towards the closest thing that would show off his reflection where he let out a string of frantic curse words. “I look like a bloody Weasley.”
Your laughter caught him off guard, the sound ringing in his ears like music that spread warmth throughout him. You were clutching at your stomach with one hand and pointing at him with the other, giggling wildly at the sight of him with hair that did not suit him at all. He smiled to himself, your glee rubbing off on him abruptly that ate away quickly at his anger.
“You should’ve given me some ratty old hand-me-down robes and I’d look just like Ron,” he notes.
“That’s rude, Draco,” you say still laughing. He smirks, leaving the shiny statue of a knight in armor where he was checking his reflection and back over to you where you were still stuck in between doubling over in laughter and watching him.
“I’m glad this is funny to you,” he muses. He begins digging into the pocket of his dress pants, taking your vulnerability as a chance for him to tap his wand to the top of your head and before you could react, your whole hair had turned a deep green.
Your laughter immediately ended as you ran towards the suit of armor, your grimacing reflection staring back at you with deep Slytherin green hair and a distorted Draco behind you doubling over just like you were moments ago.
“This looks,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, the scowl on your face saying enough for you as you turned bitterly towards Draco.
“Great?” He suggested, his guffawing subsiding into airy chuckles as you stood in front of him. Yours picked up again as you stared up at him, his striking bright red hair looking terribly unfamiliar on him. He was looking down at you, his heart jumping at the sight of you holding back your laughter. “You really do look dashing by the way.”
You swallowed thickly, thankful for the darkness that had settled around the castle and easily hid the scarlet brush appearing on your face. “But my hair is green.”
“Green is my favorite color.”
You opened your mouth to speak, your stomach and heart dropping simultaneously as your mind went completely blank. You pretended to not notice how he took a step closer to you to where he was almost fully against you and he pretended not to notice the way your lips were parted and how your chest was rising and falling a little too heavily as if you were nervous. It was game over for you when his gaze flickered down towards your lips and then back to your eyes, his head leaning down just the slightest like if he were waiting for you to meet him halfway. You were about to get closer to him, about to let your eyes close and give in to what you believed was him wanting to kiss you - but the world had other plans.
“Malfoy! There you are!” Someone boomed, clambering up the steps from the direction of the dungeons. You both jumped away from each other, your attention diverted to the Slytherin boy that interrupted the moment. “Malfoy come on, the party! And you can bring her too.”
You frowned when the boy came up to the two of you, clearly tipsy, dressed as a stereotypical vampire, and over-excited with the fact that Draco was out and willing to participate in Halloween festivities. It seemed like it bothered the now red-head when he looked to you and then back to the Slytherin boy with an apprehensive expression.
The boy, sensing the pause in the air, grabbed onto both you and Draco’s arms and started dragging the two of you towards the Slytherin common room where although the stone walls were thick, the sound of people celebrating inside were easily slipping past the stone slabs. He spoke the password out quickly and as soon as the entrance was open, you were both shoved inside into what looked like the largest party you had ever witnessed in all your years at Hogwarts. It was packed and filled with what looked like half of the school, or at least a huge majority of fifth-years and up. It was loud with music booming from a brand new wizarding-world radio in the middle of the room currently playing a song from the Weird Sisters. It smelled like a mixture of everyone’s perfumes and colognes and like firewhisky. The boy that pushed you two inside quickly passed you two cups of the very potent firewhisky before downing the third one he had in his hand and disappeared into the crowd while screaming for you to enjoy yourselves.
You both stood awkwardly away from the big and rowdy crowd, your drink clenched tightly in your hand against your chest and Draco swishing his around while it was still in the cup.
He wanted to up and run, thinking that someone was going to make a comment about his hair or about him being there, but no one seemed to pay attention to him or that he was there and in a way, he felt relieved by it and less tense by the second.
“How in the bloody hell did we end up here?” You yelled over the music, putting a hand over his arm that was holding his drink up. You didn’t mean to, but you were glad you did because he glanced down at the contact with a small smile before looking back up to you.
“We got dragged here, remember!” He yelled back.
“What?”
“We got dragged here!”
“I can’t hear you!”
He rolled his eyes, bending down towards your ear to repeat himself one last time before you finally heard him over the mayhem around you.
“This is crazy!” You looked around the room, the sight of all the bodies and recklessness being too much as they were all more than likely drunk and oblivious to how stuffy and suffocating the room was becoming.
You looked down at the golden brown liquid sloshing around in your cup, wondering whether or not you should take it, but with the nervousness you felt coming back, it didn’t take you much longer to decide to down your cup and allow the liquid courage to seep into your veins. Draco watched you with amusement, chuckling to himself when you scrunched up your face in disgust from the burn he knew it caused as it went down your throat. He shook his head, deciding to drink his too and it was only minutes that passed before the drink was quickly becoming apparent in your systems. There was something about Firewhisky that always made its mark promptly and it really was courage in a bottle that you were glad was available to you in that moment because you were sure that in just a few minutes you were close to fainting.
You were beginning to sway faintly to the music, the rhythm sounding more loud but distant and more invigorating. You didn’t care anymore if anyone was watching or that Draco was observing you curiously just as he was beginning to lose all sense of holding himself back. He was inching closer to you, his head moving slightly to beat of the song and pure joy etched onto his features when your eyes met his.
“I keep forgetting I turned your hair red!” You yelled up to him, laughing loudly when he ran his hand through it. In your moment of confidence, you reached up and lightly ran your fingers over one of the front pieces hanging over his forehead. He didn’t stop you, his heart hammering against his chest from the drink and his overwhelming crush that was clouding all his senses. “Your hair is so soft!”
He wanted to pin you up against the wall right then and there. You were peering up at him, just as you were before you were dragged inside by one of his Housemates and as soon as he was about to kiss you.
“Do you want to get out of here?” He knew to bend down this time for you to hear him to which you responded with a fervent nod. You took his hand in yours, pulling him towards the exit of the common room and he let you lead him into the coldness of the dungeons that bit at his cheeks. It was a stark difference from the warmth inside, the crisp October air being more chilled than what either of you were expecting. It felt nice against your flushed skin and easier to breathe, especially once after the common room closed again and you could hear was muffled talking and music.
Neither of you were drunk and were still aware of pretty much everything, mostly the feelings stirring inside you both that was begging either of you to make a move towards the other. You were just a tad tipsy, and so was he, but it was enough for you to still enjoy the night without the initial awkwardness that oddly settled in between you. It was weird, considering how open and talkative you usually were with each other but there was something about the evening that made it feel like if you didn’t know each other.
“What now?” He asked you with a raised brow, his hand slipping into his pocket.
You smiled, an idea coming to your head that you knew he would love and you didn’t mind doing in the name of Halloween. “Do you want to go mess with people?”
He stared at you with widened eyes, “bloody hell, I love you.”
There was nothing that could have prepared you for his response, your own eyes widening in shock as you stared at him. He felt his face get hot in embarrassment, Merlin, he felt so stupid. He was mentally smacking himself in the head, desperately wishing he could bury himself seven feet under the Earth and staying there until the end of time.
He was about to play off what he said in a joking way, but for the second time that night he was interrupted by a couple that stumbled out of the common room drunkenly snogging each other’s faces off and wholly oblivious to you and Draco standing there in lingering panic. You jumped back into his arms when the couple staggered past you, almost knocking you over in the process of their makeout session and it annoyed you beyond belief. It annoyed you that they were in your way, annoyed that they interrupted you, annoyed that it wasn’t you in their position with the one you wanted.
You dug your wand out of your pocket, flicking it their way as they rolled onto the wall, still in each other’s hold until the hex that flew from your wand hit the boy causing him to stagger back from the girl and holding his nose in pain. You heard Draco laugh from behind you when bats began to fly out from the boy’s nostrils while the girl screamed and ran away from one of the bats that swept down onto her head. The bats flew out of the dungeon and up the stairs with the boy struggling loudly the whole way up until his panicked screams were no longer heard.
“That was a perfect bat-bogey,” he looks at you proudly. “I feel bad for that poor bloke’s nose.”
“Thank you, thank you,” you bowed jokingly.
When the sound of the door opened again, you both ran to hide behind a long drape against the wall that didn’t hide your shoes very well and pressed up against your bodies that’s shapes were no doubt visible from the opposite side.
You heard footsteps trail haphazardly down the corridor, their back seemingly facing you and as you both peeked your heads out from behind the drape, Draco nodded towards the boy and pointed his wand towards him.
“Slugulus Eructo,” you heard him whisper and a stream of green light from his wand hit the back of the boy’s head and as he turned around in surprise while doubling over in pain, his hand clamped tightly over his mouth as slugs began to slip past the spaces between his fingers. When he stood up to run away, you noticed it was the same boy from earlier that stopped you two from the almost kiss and dragged you to the party. You let out a string of giggles as he ran away just like your last victims.
“This is so mean,” you chortle, leaning into him from behind the drape in an attempt to get closer to him. You were feeling bolder when he beamed down at you, feeling happy knowing that although the night was still young, he was having fun. “Thank you for coming with me tonight, I know you don’t like Halloween.” You say quietly.
“You finally convinced me, it’s not that bad,” he grins.
“Why’d you hate it in the first place?”
The question seemed to strike a nerve but the Firewhisky still flowing freely in his veins tore away easily at his defenses so instead of avoiding your question entirely like he usually would, he frowned and let his guard down.
“I don’t hate it,” he answers apprehensively. “My father never let me celebrate it. He never let me dress up. He told me respectable wizards don’t partake in holidays like these.”
His pout made your gut twist in sympathy, your hand instinctively going into his as you squeezed it reassuringly. “It’s never too late to start celebrating. Besides, I don’t see him here stopping you.”
He smiled for what felt like the hundredth time that night, his stained-red hair falling over his eyes as he looked down to his shoes.
“You have a point, darling.”
The door of the common room opened again and what you suspected to be another snogging couple to stumble out from the sound of heavy breathing and multiple shoes scuffling about was something completely different.
“Glad Malfoy stayed with someone else today.” It was Crabbe.
“Yeah, he never lets us go to these parties,” Goyle responds. “Go ahead and thank Y/L/N for freeing us, he fancies her like a fool.”
“Reckon we should go look for them?”
You figured Goyle nodded to him like the blathering idiot he was because in a few short seconds they were running away up the same steps everyone else had.
You peered up slowly at Draco who was already gaping at you like a deer in headlights. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The gears in your brain were spinning wildly with happiness, the gossip hopefully being proven true when he didn’t try to deny it. You didn’t realize how close his face was to yours, cheeks tinged with pink from both the firewhisky and sudden shyness and his warm cinnamon breath fanning your face as he looked down at you.
“I can explain,” he finally said.
He didn’t need to; you placed your hands gently on his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer to you and pressing your lips against his, catching him completely by surprise. His eyes were wide at first, his body rigid and his lips unmoving, but once it finally clicked that this was real and no longer a fantasy that played like a broken record in his head, his lips moved fervently against yours with the rest of his body following. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers squeezing at the hem of your bottoms and his body pushing even further into yours.
Your bottom lip caught lightly in between his teeth as you reluctantly pulled away from him, the both of you breathing raggedly as you searched each other’s eyes.
“I feel the same,” you said softly. “Happy Halloween.”
He smashes his lips hungrily against yours again, his ego growing with each gasp of a delight that escapes your mouth as your hands roamed and tangled themselves into his magically colored strands.
“Very…happy…halloween,” he mutters against your lips in between kisses, a dazy smile adorning your face while he tightened his arms around you.
Author’s Note: okay i know the gif is romione but just pretend it’s y/n okay? okay! enjoy this chapter!
This was it, you thought.
Ron was towering over you, his hands cradling your face so gently it was as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. He licked his lips slowly, seductively, and leaned even closer. Now your lips were almost touching. If you would lean forward just the slightest inch, you would be kissing. But instead of doing that, you waited, your heart in your throat and your knees weak, for his next words.
These next words, you thought, are going to change everything. What he says next will be years worth of pent up desire and longing and finally he was going to tell you he loved-
“Nice dress,” he whispered.
You remained still, stunned.
Ron broke out into boyish laughter.
“Ronald!” you yelled, slapping his chest with the palm of your hand.
“Are you kidding me?” you demanded, equally hurt and embarrassed while also trying to suppress a laugh. This was him complimenting your cheesy shorts instead of kissing you in his room all over again.
Ron laughed a little more, before turning back to you and almost closing the gap. Almost closing it completely, but not quite.
“What were you expecting me to say, y/n?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave lower as his eyes searched yours. The atmosphere between your bodies quickly changed to something more serious.
You shrugged. “Dunno, something a bit more romantic than that,” you replied.
Ron put his fingers up to his chin and pretended to think. He was back to his goofy self and no matter how annoyed you were with his antics, you still found yourself madly in love with him, faults and all.
“Alright,” he said, drawing out the word. “How about this?” His hand dropped from his chin to your waist, pulling your body flesh against him. Your heart skipped a beat and you knew that if he kept this teasing up, you were going to have a heart attack.
“Would you have wanted me to say that I’ve dreamt about holding you every night since we danced together at the Yule Ball? That every time I see you with Bill I get crazy jealous because I wish you would want me as much as you wanted him?”
He looked like he had more to say so you stayed silent as he kept saying those words that made your heart melt.
“Or would you rather me have told you that every single time we took walks around the Great Lake together back at Hogwarts, I thought about kissing you? Every damn time. Would you have wanted me to tell you that I keep every single one of your letters in a box under my bed because I miss you so fucking much in the summer that they are the only things that get me through?” he said, a little breathless, cheeks pink, and looking more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen him.
“Would you have wanted me to tell you how desperately I’m in love with you?” he finished.
It was dead silent between you, the only sounds the distant fireworks in the sky. Their vibrant colors reflected onto Ron’s skin, his face turning shades of blue and red as the fireworks erupted. In that moment, he was the most breathtaking thing you have ever seen.
“Yeah, I probably would have wanted something like that,” you joked quietly, flashing him a small grin. He returned it.
“C'mere,” he mumbled, lifting your chin with his fingers as he finally closed the distance between you.
Even despite the fireworks exploding in the night sky, you could have sworn sparks were flying.
You had been dreaming about this kiss for the longest time, and it was already exceeding your expectations. His lips were soft against yours, but his rhythm was passionate. As soon as you connected, he had parted his lips, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Your lips molded to his and parted as well. He pushed your back up against the tree, kissing you harder, more passionately. Standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, Merlin he was taller than you remembered, you pulled him in closer. He responded immedietly, tender hands finding their way to your hips and squeezing lightly. And you continued like that, mouths connected, hands roaming, finally sharing the kiss that you had both been wanting for years.
You don’t know how much time had passed, it could have been 5 minutes, or perhaps an hour, but at some point you had to come up for breath. Pulling away from him, you leaned your head back against the wood of the oak tree as you caught your breath. Your knees were so weak from the kiss that the only thing keeping you standing up was Ron’s strong arms holding you in place.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Ron whispered, breathing heavy.
Giggling, you replied, “Probably not as long as I’ve wanted to.”
He leaned down next to your face and pressed a light kiss to your cheek. “I seriously doubt that,” he mumbled against your skin.
The fireworks continued filling the sky as you stood with Ron under the oak tree, leaning against one another like you were the only people in the world.
“Y/n,” he said, lifting his head to look you in the eyes. “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you, I’m an idiot sometimes.”
Laughingly lightly, you nodded your head. “Yeah, you are.” He laughed too, kissing your forehead. Despite how happy and full of love you were in that moment, a question still nagged in the back of your brain like a parasite.
“Ron, why did you say what happened in your room was a mistake?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady but the words ended up quivering anyways.
He shook his head, trying to find the correct words.
“I didn’t mean that you and I, us, was the mistake. I meant it was a mistake for me to act like that when I was drugged up on Love Potion. I wanted our first kiss to be romantic, I guess, and in that moment I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to tell you how I felt. I wanted you to know I loved you before we ever had our first kiss.”
You were taken aback by his words. Ron had always come off as a goofy and silly guy, you never knew he had this romantic side to him. This only made you fall deeper in love as you grabbed his face, dragging him down to meet your lips again.
The second kiss was just as magical as the first, gentle yet passionate and as soon as it was over you couldn’t help wanting more.
When the kiss ended, you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms.
“So what do you say,” he said, biting his bottom lip and swaying you slightly by the hips.
“What do you mean?” you asked, melting into his touch.
“Do you love me back?”
Now it was your turn to mess with him, just like he did with you.
“Hmm, I don’t know, I’ll have to think about that one,” you said, your voice sing-songy as you grinned at him.
Ron rolled his eyes and brought you back in for a another breathtaking kiss. When you broke apart, he looked at you again, the question still in his eyes.
You nodded, pulling him closer, your lips ghosting over his.
“I love you, Ron, I always have,” you whispered against his lips. The smile that spread across his face made every single emotion of this rollercoaster of a summer worth it. He kissed you again. By the end of the summer, your lips were going to be so swollen and chapped but you couldn’t really bring it upon yourself to care.
As the kiss deepened, Ron’s hands squeezed your hips again and you moaned in his mouth before you could think of stopping yourself. He froze immediately, and you winced, wishing you hadn’t been so eager so soon.
He didn’t miss a beat. “My room, tonight?” he whispered, holding you closer against him. So maybe he was equally as eager as you were…
You nodded, before replying, “Your bed is always open to me, right?”
He grinned, kissing you in response.
Your brain was so full of Ron and his lips and his hands that you forgot there was a party going on behind you. The fireworks had stopped a while ago and neither of you had even noticed.
But you noticed now when you heard loud, boisterous cheering. You and Ron froze as you looked towards the sound of the noise. From across the garden, Fred and George were jumping up and down, cheering, and high-fiving one another. Next to them stood Harry and Hermione who were both grinning.
“Bloody FINALLY!” Ginny shouted at you. Her shout brought the attention of Mr and Mrs Weasley to you and Ron. Mr Weasley gave his son a thumbs up while Mrs Weasley gave you a loving smile.
“We’re never going to hear the end of this, are we?” he asked you.
Smiling, you replied, “not likely.”
Ron grinned as the two of you walked back towards the crowd, hand in hand.
Lunch passed by in a whirl. Numerous freckled hands snatched sandwiches off plates and scarfed them down. Jokes were played on family members as messes were made on the wooden table. The atmosphere of the dinning table in the Burrow was as it always was: chaotic and wonderful. However, you had a hard time enjoying the usual festivities. Your mind, and heart, with both still upstairs with Ron in that tiny bathroom. You wished more than anything to be back there, leaning in to the one person you wanted more than anything.
You risked a glance at Ron. He was unusually silent, not bothering to jump in when the discussion turned towards Quidditch. His eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat. His cheeks reddened as he looked away quickly. You couldn’t help but think that his thoughts were also focused on the same moment that had been replaying in your head.
“Y/n, do you want thirds?” Ginny asked from across the table. She had always been clever, and her steady look let you know she noticed your absent disposition. Her arched brow and knowing eyes told you that you needed to talk- soon. You shook your head to answer her question, despite how good the sandwiches were.
The rest of the day was spent doing chores. With most of the Weasley family home this summer, along with some additional guests, the house got messy very quickly.
“Couldn’t you just magic everything clean?” George grumbled at his mother when she gave the list of chores to the group.
Mrs. Weasley’s tone was as cold as ice. “Maybe if you children wouldn’t have dragged mud all over the house after your Quidditch game, I would be happy to use magic. But since you did bring the entire garden into this house, you will clean it yourselves!” Her narrowed glare lessened as she looked upon you and Hermione.
“Of course, I don’t blame you dears. You can rest while my children- yes Harry that includes you- clean the house,” she told you with a loving smile.
Despite the offer, Ginny forced you and Hermione to help her sweep and mop the floors. The twins were tasked with putting away all their joke items and Harry and Ron were outside degnoming the garden for the second time that week.
To lighten the mood, you ran upstairs to retrieve the muggle radio you brought from home. You spent a lot of your time listening to it while you were lonely, dancing around your room when you knew no one would be watching. Turning the dial to your favorite station, you placed the radio on the shelf so everyone could hear it. Then your chores begun.
Sweeping wasn’t so bad while you were doing it with your best friends. You joked and laughed the entire time, singing badly and off-key to your favorite songs. Ginny used her mop handle as a microphone to dramatically serenade Hermione. The twins even joined in on the fun by dancing next to you, feather dusters in hand. You threw your head back in a laugh as Ginny fell to her knees for her final solo.
This is what family is, you thought to yourself.
You didn’t notice when Ron stopped in from outside to grab water for him and Harry. You didn’t notice his gaze softened as he watched you dancing with his family. You didn’t notice his eyes dropping to the way your hips swayed to the music, and you didn’t hear Harry mumble, “Mate, you’re whipped,” to his friend.
…
The sun set as you completed your chores and you found yourself cornered after dinner.
“Sleepover. Tonight. My room. You, me, and Hermione” Ginny said with a tone that made it impossible to argue with her. Not that you wanted to argue that, you actually missed having sleepovers with your dorm mates.
You made your way over to Ron who was just finishing up washing the dishes. You tried to ignore the way his broad shoulder muscles moved beneath his thin cotton shirt. You also tried to ignore the freckles peeping out from behind his hairline. Everything about him made your head feel dizzy and you suddenly felt the need to chug a large glass of water to cool down.
“Hey,” you said gently, standing next to him and picking up a dish rag to help dry the plates.
“Hi,” he responded, his voice alone making butterflies erupt in your stomach.
The next ten minutes passed without either of you saying a word. You fell into the familiar comfortable silence that only best friends can experience with one another. The rhythm of him washing the plates, you drying them, and then them magically floating back into the cabinets felt good. Everything you did together always just felt right.
“So,” you said, speaking up once the dishes were done, “Hermione and I are sleeping over in Ginny’s room tonight.” You don’t know why you brought it up, maybe as just another excuse to stay around him for longer.
You were surprised by the grin that immediately spread across Ron’s face. “So I don’t have to sleep on the couch tonight? Wicked.”
Your smile subsided slightly. Ron didn’t assume you and him would share a bed again tonight like you did the night before. You were silly to have hoped that would become a regular occurrence. Confused thoughts swirled around you in a whirl as you tried to hide your disappointment.
You nodded, and as you turned to walk up to Ginny’s room, you felt Ron’s hand reach out to catch yours.
“Y/n- wait…” he began. You looked up to meet his eyes and your insides melted when you saw him looking at you differently. He looked at you with determination and absolute attention- the same way he looked at you earlier that day, when you thought he was going to kiss you.
“If you have nightmares tonight, you know where to find me. My bed is always open for you” he said with a cheeky smile. His smugness and arrogance took you back for a second. Fred and George must be getting to him. You blushed as you turned back up the stairs.
Was that an invitation? Or just a flirty joke that friends say to one another?
These questions filled your mind as you changed into pajamas and made your way to Ginny’s room. The moment you approached her doorway the door swung open and you were yanked inside. Ginny swiftly closed the door behind you to ensure privacy.
“Talk,” was all she said.
You blushed as you sat down on her worn blue carpeting. Hermione was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed with a book in her hand. The redhead plopped onto the ground next to you, laying on her stomach as she propped herself up on her elbows. This was the usual procedure for girl talk back at Hogwarts- Ginny leaning in, eager to hear your gossip as Hermione pretended not to notice but eventually gave in and joined your discussions.
“About what?” you asked innocently. Ginny rolled her eyes as Hermione shut her book, her attention now focused on you. They were two of the smartest witches you ever met, and knowing you couldn’t fool them, you decided to come clean.
“I think Ron and I almost kissed,” you blurted out.
Hermione’s mouth hung open as Ginny exclaimed, “Shut up!”
You nodded at their reactions, closing your eyes for a brief moment to relive the moment.
“When? How?” Hermione asked, scooting closer to you.
“Upstairs, he was helping me clean my cut after the game and then I guess…we started leaning in. I don’t know if the kiss actually would have happened though- we were interrupted before I could tell what was going on” you explained.
Ginny’s eyebrows knit together with anger. “Who interrupted? I swear if it was Fred or George I’m gonna beat their-”
“You did, genius. Your voice carries throughout the entire house,” you said with a hint of humor, cutting her off.
“Oh,” she replied, her ears turning pink.
Hermione grinned at you, “well this is good! Maybe you didn’t kiss that time, but there will be other opportunities.”
You smiled at your friend’s optimism. As much as you loved your friends for supporting you and being interested in your love life, a part of you wanted to keep a part of the interaction between you and Ron to yourself. You wanted to keep a part of him close and secret to only you, so you switched the topic of conversation.
Turning to Ginny you asked, “So, how’s Harry?” You wiggled your eyebrows in a teasing manner. The question made her launch into a hilarious story about how she caught him staring at her during Quidditch and managed to knock him off his broom.
“That’s what boys get for not keeping their eyes to themselves, right y/n?” Ginny joked.
You laughed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh please! You should have seen the way Ron oggled at you while you were dancing today! His eyes were practically glued to your arse. I almost would have told him to get a room, it was so intense,” Hermione said with a giggle.
You rolled your eyes, pretending this new information didn’t make your heart race. If he really watched you the same way you watch him, maybe this fantasy of yours wasn’t so far-fetched. Maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.
The rest of your girls sleepover was filled with laughter and chatter as you talked into the wee hours of the morning. As Ginny and Hermione drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder if Ron was in his room right now- waiting for you. Each time your eyes closed, all you could picture was Ron, leaning closer and closer and closer… You fell asleep to your imagination wondering what his lips would feel like against yours.
You were greeted by a grinning Ron in the kitchen.
“I see your mood has changed,” you noted, gratefully taking the buttered toast he was offering you as you heard your stomach rubble loudly.
He nodded. “Fred and George talked to me,” he stated.
A bolt of terror ran up your spine. Talked to him? Talked to him about what? Surely they didn’t tell Ron how you felt about him? You knew they were pushing you towards confessing, but you never thought they would betray you like that.
“Oh?” you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral. You took a big bite of toast and chewed to keep your mind off of Ron’s next words, and your impending feeling of doom.
Ron nodded, his smile returning. “They said I can use the best Cleansweep Five we’ve got. Thank Merlin too, all our other brooms give me splinters.”
Relief washed over you like a great tide. They hadn’t ratted you out after all. You felt a twinge of guilt from believing the twins would go behind your back like that, you knew they wouldn’t.
After you finished your breakfast, you headed out to the field behind The Burrow. You were greeted by the sight of quidditch balls already laid out, goalposts standing ready, and redheaded boys fighting over brooms. Hermione and Ginny chatted pleasantly with one another to the side.
You walked over to them and offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry I was so uptight upstairs,” you said.
Ginny waved you off with the flick of a wrist, “We understand. Although we were quite hopeful seeing you in Ron’s bed,” she added with a wink.
Hermione gave you a hug with one arm and whispered, “We expect to hear all the details later.” You laughed, happy to have your girls back, and followed them to the others.
“I called this one!”
“No you didn’t, you great git, I did!”
“Yeah right, get your own!”
Laughing at the twins’ argument, you grabbed the shabbiest looking broom in the pile. It was no secret that you were the best Chaser on your house team so you thought taking the worst broom was a fair way to even out the match. Also, you weren’t in in the mood to fight tooth and nail with a ginger about a broomstick.
After the broomsticks were distributed to each player, George still grumbling about Fred taking his broom, the teams were determined. On one side: Fred, George, Ron, and Harry. On the other: you, Hermione, and Ginny. You were the chaser, Ginny the beater, and Hermione the Keeper. Much to Harry’s dismay, the group had opted out of the need of the seeker role and Snitch. Instead, you would just be playing to see how many points you could score through the goals.
“Shirts vs skins!” Fred and George shouted. “Isn’t that what the muggles do to keep track of their teammates, Harry?” They asked him, already yanking their shirts off their backs.
“I suppose,” Harry said, following their action.
You laughed, “Yeah, except nobody ever offers to be the skins.”
“Well if they looked as good as I do, they would,” Fred replied confidently, earning giggles from you and Hermione. Ginny, however, scoffed at his words.
You were so busy talking to Fred that when you turned your head, you noticed Ron had already taken his shirt off. Maybe you were imagining it, but you felt his gaze flick quickly to yours and then both of your cheeks reddening instantly. This had been the second time in 24 hours that you had seen your best friend with his shirt off and it still made your heart skip a beat and your head feel dizzy. Hopefully you could keep your eyes on the Quidditch match instead of him.
Before you knew it, the match had started.
You had grabbed the Quaffle once it was in the air, and were rushing towards the other team’s goalposts. You noticed your broom was a lot slower than yours at home, drifting slightly to the right as you propelled yourself forward, but that didn’t impede your skills at all. In fact, before long, the score was 50-10.
“That’s rubbish!” Harry shouted as you scored yet another goal. He was really getting into the spirit of Quidditch.
“The only thing that’s rubbish is your flying!” Ginny countered back with a wicked smirk.
Being here with your friends, playing Quidditch outside under the sun, wind whipping through your hair- it was everything you wished for and more. You recalled sitting all alone in the great big empty house of yours, your mind would often wander to wishing for something like this. A sense of community, friendship, and family. Right now, you couldn’t be happier.
“y/n, look out!”
You heard it too late. By the time your head turned in the direction of Ginny’s voice, the Weasley’s battered old bludger from their home Quidditch set had smacked into the side of your head. Falling from your broomstick, you really wished you hadn’t forgone the helmet offered to you before the match began.
The match abruptly ended as you hit the ground with a thud. Admittedly, you weren’t flying that high up, but the fall still stung. You felt a large welt on your forehead, and as you touched above your left eyebrow you were surprised to see blood.
“Ow,” you commented.
The first person to reach you was Ron, looking pale with worry.
“Y/n! Are you alright?” He asked, his voice quivering as his eyes flicked between your eyes and bloodied forehead.
You nodded, but the effort in doing so made you dizzy. You swayed a little from where you sat, and Ron wrapped a protective arm around your back to steady you. Despite being on the precipice of passing out, Ron’s palm being pressed flatly to your lower back made butterflies erupt in your stomach. So now you had that making your head spin too.
Concerned blue eyes stared intently at you and you tried your best to not notice how close Ron’s bare chest was to you. He was breathing heavily from the game and despite being sweaty from the heat, he still smelled like cinnamon and apples. His red hair was tousled from the wind and you wanted nothing more than to reach out and run your fingers through it.
“I’m alright, just a little fall,” you said, struggling to your feet. Ron kept his arm wrapped tightly around you to keep you from toppling over.
“Alright there, y/n?” Harry asked as the others came to join you. “I didn’t mean to hit that blunger so hard, I’m sorry.”
You waved him off with your hand. “S'all right, I’ve suffered from worst during Quidditch,” you replied. And it was true. Last year, you had broken your arm three times during the Quidditch season. Madame Pomfrey welcomed you as a regular visitor in the Hospital Wing. You had even managed to become quite good friends with her.
After a quick survey of the group, it was obvious everyone was beaten and tired. Two hours of Quidditch can do that to a person.
“I’ll take her upstairs and clean her cut. Will you lot make lunch? Or ask Mum too?” Ron asked. You were surprised by his taking charge, usually he was one to sit back and let Hermione make all the plans.
Everyone nodded and then embarked back to The Burrow.
“Despite my fall, we were winning,” you proclaimed as you entered the house. You, Hermione, and Ginny shared a satisfying smile at your victory.
“I call a rematch for tomorrow,” Harry insisted as he followed the twins into the kitchen.
Ron led you upstairs, his hand still planted firmly on your back, as you walked up the countless steps. After a couple levels, you had reached the tiny bathroom all the Weasley’s shared.
You entered it, followed by Ron. It was quite a tight fit. With both of you standing in it, backs facing the wall, your chests were almost pressed against one another. Ron still hadn’t put his shirt back on. You tried your best not to notice this fact.
He stepped closer to you, and your heart started beating so fast you felt there was a hummingbird trapped in your ribcage rather than an organ. Ron wrapped his arms around you, lifted you up, and set you on the bathroom counter. You blushed at the ease in which he did this. He really was quite strong. You remembered back in second year when he could barely push open the heavy common room door, now here he was lifting you onto counters as if you weighed nothing.
Ron searched above you in the mirror cabinet for some bandaids and ointment for your head. You waited patiently, taking advantage of his distracted attention to stare at him. He really looked good. He was biting his lip in concentration as he read different bottles to find the correct medicine, and his eyebrows were knitted together. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face and his freckles looked like constellations on his skin. In that moment, you swore he was the most handsome wizard you ever saw.
“Got it,” he said, his deep voice snapping you out of your fantasy. “Mum used to put this on our scrapes when we were little. It might sting a bit,” he warned you.
You nodded and shut your eyes as Ron wet a rag and turned to you. You felt him lean closer. Cinnamon and apple. His smell was intoxicating.
Ron lighted brushed your hair behind your ear. With a wet cloth, he dabbed the blood away. His touch felt so soft and gentle that you fought the urge to sigh and melt right into the arms. But that feeling quickly subsided as a new sensation of an intense burning reached your cut.
“Ow,” you muttered through gritted teeth as he continued applying the ointment.
“I know, sorry,” he replied, still concentrating.
You opened your eyes to sneak a glance at him. He was so close to you that if you moved forward a little bit, your noses would be touching. You snapped your eyes shut again, afraid that if you kept them open for a second longer, you wouldn’t be able to restrain yourself anymore. You were certain you would kiss him if he stayed that close to you.
The feeling of a dry fabric being pressed to your head brought you out of your thoughts as the stinging subsided. The bandaid Ron pressed gently to your forehead seemed to help because you didn’t feel dizzy anymore. Magic, it was great at healing.
Taking in a deep breath, you opened your eyes. Ron was still standing so close to you, both of his arms resting against the counter on either side of you. His eyes immediately met yours and you could swear that every sound in the world went quiet. The temperature in the bathroom seemed to increase as you were so close to one another. You couldn’t help yourself, your eyes slipped from his blue eyes to his lips. Merlin, you wanted to kiss him so badly.
Looking back up, you saw his gaze was focused on your mouth as well. His eyes met yours once again. Was he leaning in? He definitely looked like he was getting closer. Is this really happening?
“Lunch is ready!” Ginny’s voice traveled from downstairs to the bathroom like a shrill bullhorn. You felt as if a bucket of cold water was poured onto your head, that’s how quickly you jolted from the dream-like trance you were in.
Ron cleared his throat awkwardly, moving backwards to give you more space. The absence of his proximity made you feel colder, and you wished Ginny had called you a minute later.
“Shall we?” He asked, offering you a hand as you climbed down from the counter.
“Yeah, I’m starving,” you replied as you exited the bathroom and made your way downstairs. But you were more than just hungry for lunch. You had a hunger for whatever atmosphere donned upon you and Ron in that tiny bathroom. You were hungry for that feeling of being the only two in the world. It was in that moment that you realized how strongly you felt about Ron. How strongly you felt about your best friend. It was there, atop the rickety steps of The Burrow, that you vowed that this summer was the one where you would tell Ron Weasley that you were in love with him.
You jolted upwards to look towards the sound, promptly smacking your head against Ron’s.
“Ow,” you both mumbled, fully awake now. With the nose injury from last night, and this today, Ron was going to be covered in bruises by the time the summer was over.
Your eyes settled upon a stunned looking Harry Potter standing in the doorway. His mouth was open, his eyes wide. Perhaps he wasn’t expecting to walk into his best friend’s room and see him cuddled up with a girl.
Words couldn’t form in your mouth to explain the inappropriate situation. How could you explain how you looked right now- hair disheveled, under the covers, with Ron’s arm still wrapped tightly around you.
As Ron was about to speak, Harry’s face broke out into a wide grin. Smirking he said, “well done, mate.”
“Well done? Well done for what?” You heard a familiar voice say from the hallway. Within seconds, Hermione’s head was peeking into the doorway.
“Oh my!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up to her mouth in shock.
Harry chuckled as you heard even more footsteps approaching.
“What is it, Hermione?” you heard Ginny call before she, too, entered the small room, freezing when she saw you and Ron.
“Fred! George! Get in here!” she yelled, her lips forming into the same satisfied smile Harry wore.
“Oh please let’s just invite the whole family,” Ron said sarcastically. The room was already crowded with the 5 bodies in it, every eye strained upon you and Ron. But oddly enough, his arm was still wrapped protectively around your waist.
Soon, Fred and George apperated into the room, standing at the bottom of the bed.
“Would you look at that Georgie,” Fred said, nudging his brother in the side. “I believe you owe me 5 galleons.” George rolled his eyes and handed over the coins.
“You bet on us?” Ron asked. His face was growing red, but more from annoyance than embarrassment.
The twins nodded at the same time.
You made eye contact with Ginny and Hermione, who were both grinning, their eyes sparkling. They knew you’d had a crush on Ron for years, and they mistakenly thought you had confessed to him, leading to the sleeping together situation. Terrified that they would say how you felt about him, when in reality you hadn’t confessed anything at all, you spoke up.
“It’s not what it looks like,” you mumbled, really wishing it was what it looked like.
Ron glanced at you and then let his arm slip from your waist. You felt your body get colder as he moved away from you.
“Nothing happened, like it ever would,” Ron said, his voice dripping with dry sarcasm. You felt your heart drop as you processed his words.
“Like it ever would.” Does that mean he didn’t want anything to happen between you?
“So you can give him your money back,” Ron grumbled at Fred, getting out of bed and walking straight out the door. You heard his loud footsteps march downstairs to the kitchen. His angry attitude left an uncomfortable silence in the room.
You groaned, covering your face with your hands.
“I take it you didn’t tell him then?” Hermione asked, sitting on the side of the bed and soothingly brushing your hair with her fingers.
“No, I didn’t,” you replied.
“Tell him what?” Harry asked cluelessly.
Hermione and Ginny shared a look. “Boys,” they muttered together, shaking their heads at Harry’s oblivion.
The twins took it upon themselves to thoroughly explain the situation to Harry.
“You see, our friend y/n here is in love with Ron. Has been for quite a while, we reckon. So when we see the two of them canoodling together in bed in the morning, one gets to thinking that maybe some confessions were made,” Fred told him with a smug smirk.
Keeping your head in your hands, you didn’t look at Harry.
“Well that’s perfect!” Harry blurted out, “Ron feels the same way!”
Your head shot up and you stared at him.
“He does?” you asked him. Of course you knew that Ron treated you different from his other friends, but you never wanted to jump to conclusions.
“Well I mean, yeah. He’s never outright said anything about it, but I can tell,” Harry explained.
You groaned again, the swell of hope in your chest quickly dying down. No offense to Harry, but sometimes his intuition wasn’t the best. You thought back to the countless times he was convinced Draco Malfoy had poisoned his morning pumpkin juice.
“I hate to break it to you lot, because you seemed quite excited barging in here this morning, but I’m positive he doesn’t feel the same way. Did you hear him? ‘Like it ever would.’ That means he doesn’t want anything to happen with us,” you huffed.
Ginny shook her head.
“No, it means he’s a stupid git who doesn’t know how to say what he’s feeling,” she said confidently.
You wanted to believe her. You really did. But if he felt the same way, he would’ve said something by now. Last night was the perfect opportunity, and he didn’t tell you anything. That was all the confirmation you needed that your feelings were one-sided.
Throwing your legs over the side of the bed, you stood up. Although you felt your heart break slightly, you couldn’t let this ruin your summer.
“Let’s just forget this happened, okay?” You said, looking each of them in the eye. “Please don’t mention it again, he’s already pissed off enough.”
Your friends nodded, but not without reluctance.
“Mum’s making eggs this morning, then we could play a game of Quidditch in the backyard,” Ginny offered. You thanked her silently for following your request.
“Sounds great, I brought my Firebolt,” Harry said.
And with that, the crowd change the topic of conversation to Quidditch. Their chat continued as everyone made their way to the kitchen.
Left alone upstairs, you changed out of your pajamas. You reached into your trunk to put on your favorite t-shirt. It was a vintage muggle band t-shirt that you used to listen to with your dad all the time, before travel got in the way and you barely saw him anymore. Ron, with the help of Mr. Weasley who knew the muggle world better than he did, searched high and low for this one specific shirt for your birthday last year. You loved the shirt and wore it all the time, Ron always was a great gift giver for you.
At the thought, you turned your attention to your new owl, who had just woken up. She was as adorable as when you first saw her. Friends get each other amazing gifts all the time, this doesn’t mean he’s in love with you, you tried to remind yourself.
“Good morning, Dite,” you said, rubbing her tiny head. She pecked your fingers affectionately, before flying over to the bed, where she sat down on Ron’s pillow.
“You saw all that, huh?” You asked. Even the owls saw your embarrassment from this morning.
She nodded her head and then fluttered over to the box of letters under his nightstand. She nudged the side of it with her beak.
“They don’t mean anything,” you told her. She didn’t understand. No one did. Ron, despite your best wishes, wasn’t in love with you. It was just a fact you needed to accept.
You cocked your head towards the door. “C'mon,” you said to Dite. She flew onto your shoulder and nuzzled into your neck.
You awoke to the sound of quiet shuffling in the corner of the room. You opened your eyes but didn’t dare move. The wizarding world had become increasingly dangerous lately so you were terrified that there could be some dark wizard lurking in the darkness, ready to kidnap you. Then, you heard someone stub their toe and the sound of a muffled swear eased your fear.
“Ron?” you asked, no longer afraid of the mysterious noises in the room. You flipped over in bed so now you were facing him.
Your cheeks immediately flushed a deep shade of red. Whatever it was you were expecting to see when you turned around, it definitely wasn’t a shirtless Ron.
“H-Hi. Sorry I, er, thought you were asleep,” he stammered, standing frozen as if he was paralyzed.
Your brain was having an intense argument with your eyes to prevent them from dropping from Ron’s face to his bare torso. Unfortunately, you were weak, so your gaze fell ever so slightly and your face got even redder. The years of Quidditch seemed to really have paid off because Ron’s chest was toned. Freckles littered his shoulders and chest like constellations and you fought the urge to run your fingers over every single one of then. You tried your very best not to notice his prominent v-line leading to the waistband of his pajama bottoms.
Ron’s face was the same color as his hair as he hastily threw a shirt on, to your great disappointment.
“I couldn’t sleep well in normal clothes so I came up to get some pajamas…didn’t mean to wake you,” he muttered quietly, his eyes locked in a staring contest with the floor.
It took a second for you to snap your attention to his words when all your brain was thinking about was him half naked only a moment ago.
“S'okay,” you said, matching his soft tone.
An odd silence filled the room, a silence that usually wasn’t present in conversations with your best friend.
You scooted over closer to the wall, making as much room as you could in the small bed.
Ron took your silent cue and laid down next to you, folding his arms behind his neck as he leaned against the bed frame.
“Couch not treating you well?” you asked, keeping your tone light in hopes he hadn’t noticed how you were ogling at him a minute ago.
He groaned, “I don’t know how old that couch is, but I think my mum got it before her and Dad were even married. It’s like sleeping on rocks.”
“I can sleep down there if you want,” you offered, feeling guilty for taking his room.
Ron was shaking his head before you even finished your sentence.
“No way, I’m a gentleman. I can’t do that,” he told you.
You snorted at his choice of words. “You’re the furthest thing from it,” you joked.
He playfully slapped your shoulder.
“It’s true!” you defended yourself. “I don’t think we’ve had one conversation at the dining hall where you’re not talking with your mouth full.”
His shoulders, clad in his red Chudley Cannons pajama shirt, jostled up and down with quiet laughter. You noticed there was a small hole in the middle of the shirt and you could see his pale skin moving underneath the cloth.
Forcing your eyes back up to meet his, you tried to change the subject.
“So why were you in Diagon Alley for so long?” you asked nervously, praying he hadn’t noticed your eyes betraying your better judgment once again.
At this question, Ron beamed.
“They really kept the secret?” he asked, excitedly hopping out of the bed. “Nobody told you? Not even Ginny?”
Confused, you shook your head.
“I got you a present,” Ron explained as he walked to the window and opened it, letting in the fresh nighttime summer air. “I asked the family to not tell you what it was, but I half expect them to anyways. But I’m glad they didn’t, I wanted it to be a surprise.”
You followed him out of bed, sitting next to him on the windowsill. You watched as he leaned out of the window, put his fingers to his lips, and let out a short whistle. Nothing happened, and you craned your head out the window to see what he was calling for.
The night was empty, all you could see were the rolling fields outside of the Burrow and the garden gnomes throwing rocks at one another.
You were about to pull your head back into the room, when you saw a small pink blur soaring through the air. It looked like it was getting closer and closer to the window.
“What is that?” you asked, looking to Ron for answers but were met with only his large grin.
Suddenly, the pink blur shot into the bedroom. You turned around, stunned as you saw Ron cradling it. Taking a step forward, you were delighted to see it was a creature.
“An owl?” you asked excitedly, as you stood next to Ron to see the creature closer.
It was miniature, about the size of Ron’s owl Pigwidgeon, but a million times more adorable. Pink feathers surrounded large blue eyes and you noticed a black heart shaped marking on the top of its head.
“Her name’s Aphrodite. I call her Dite though,” Ron told you, glancing up at you from under his lashes to see your reaction.
You were beaming from ear to ear.
“She’s amazing,” you said.
Ron grinned. “Good, because she’s yours,” he said, moving closer so he could set the small creature into your hands. She reluctantly stepped off of Ron’s palms, but once you gave her a small pat on the head, she nuzzled into your hands.
“I know how upset you were about Celeste, so I wanted to cheer you up. I spent days in Eeylops Owl Emporium looking for the perfect one and then one day Dite showed up. She’s pretty affectionate and a fast flyer, a bit annoying really, but I thought you’d like her,” Ron said. He looked at you again, biting his lip in hopes that you appreciated your gift.
Dite flew onto your shoulder as you lunged forward and wrapped Ron into a tight hug. He let out a little gasp of surprise but then wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.
“Thank you, I love her,” you said while hugging him.
“I’m glad. Now when we write letters to each other, you’ll have an owl too so Pig won’t get so tired making so many trips,” he said.
At the mention of your letters, guilt knocked the smile off your face. You quickly pushed away from Ron.
“Ikindasortamaybelookedthroughyourpersonalbelongingsandsawtheletters,” you said in one quick breath.
Ron stared at you confused. “Y/n, I didn’t understand one word of that.”
You swallowed nervously before stating slower, “I, er, I was curious about that box under your nightstand so I kinda…opened it. It had my name on it and I saw all my letters you kept,” you said nervously. Dite reflected your emotions and shifted awkwardly from talon to talon on your shoulder.
Ron’s facial expression changed slightly, and you were afraid he was going to be mad at you. Here he was, offering you a place to stay over the summer, buying you an owl, and letting you sleep in his room and how did you repay him? Oh yeah, by snooping into his personal items.
Instead of the anger you were expecting, Ron looked deeply embarrassed.
“Oh,” he sighed, lowering his head and scratching the back of his neck. “Bet you think I’m weird for saving all your letters right? I dunno why I did, I just sometimes liked to reread them when I hadn’t seen you in a while. I guess cause I missed you. I dunno,” he said.
Again, a silence filled the room. He missed you. He missed you. Of course you missed him over the summer, both as a friend misses a friend and as someone misses their crush. You wondered which kind of missing he felt.
“I keep your letters too,” you told him.
Ron finally looked back up at you. “Yeah?” he asked with a hopeful smile.
You nodded, “I reread them when you take a while to reply, sort of as a way to hold me over until the next letter. Or I reread them because your handwriting is so damn awful it takes a couple reads to actually figure out what you wrote.”
He laughed, and just like that the tension was gone.
You spent the next hour or so chatting and playing with Dite. Even though Ron’s watch read 2am, neither of you really cared, you just missed talking to each other. Back at Hogwarts, you would take walks along the Black Lake once a week and time seemed to matter less when you were together. You would stroll around the lake numerous times, your conversation flowing easily, and not even notice how long you had been gone until the sun would set. The same flow came into place now, and before long it was 5am.
By now, you and Ron were laying on his bed, your head leaning against his shoulder. Dite took it upon herself to sit with Pig in his cage, drinking some of the water from his water bottle as he unknowingly snoozed in the back of the cage.
A yawn escaped you as Ron sleepily spoke about the newest broomstick he saw on sale at Diagon Alley.
“It’s late,” he said, glancing at his watch with tired eyes
You nodded, too comfortable to move.
“Is it alright if I stay up here tonight? That couch is bloody awful,” he said.
Heart soaring, you nodded again and scooted closer to the wall to give him more room. He got under the covers with you, slowly wrapping his arm around your back. Now you were cuddling next to Ron, your head on his chest as his fingers drew lazy circles on your back. People who were just friends didn’t lay like this together, right?
Before long, he was snoring. You closed your eyes too. For the first time since you came to The Burrow, you drifted to sleep peaceful and warm. With Ron’s arm wrapped around you, you were more comfortable than you had ever been before.
The next couple days at The Burrow were some of your favorite days ever spent. You awoke every morning to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking downstairs and spent the majority of your days around magic. Every afternoon, you and Ginny would get together and complete your school work together, just like you used to at Hogwarts. It was a bit more difficult to stay focused without Hermione around, you and Ginny kept getting sidetracked with talk about Quidditch, but you managed to get some work done.
After your dinner in the garden, you spent the rest of your afternoon in the living room talking with Mr Weasley. He was fascinated by muggles and you were more than happy to indulge him and answer all of his questions. You explained the difference between a light switch and an outlet, and even told him about how your television works.
Whenever you were in the living room, you felt your gaze wonder to the clock hanging on the wall. Ron’s hand was still pointing towards “Diagon Alley” and you were starting to wonder why he was shopping for so long.
Pushing the thought out of your mind, you directed your attention back to Mr Weasley.
“Do you have any muggle pets, y/n? What are they like?” He asked. You smiled as you saw the pencil next to him jotting down notes onto a pad of paper. Mr Weasley treated your conversations like an interview, wanting to remember everything you said. He was a sweet man, as all of the Weasleys were, so you didn’t mind spending hours chatting with him.
“I guess the pets are sort of the same in the muggle world and wizarding world. I had a couple of goldfish when I was younger but I kept overfeeding them so my parents gave them away. Then I had a dog named Benji, but he now lives with my cousins because my family travels so much. And then my last pet was Celeste, but she died last spring,” you told him.
The thought of Celeste made your good spirits sink a little. You had first met your snowy white cat in Diagon Alley when you were shopping for your first year at Hogwarts. It was difficult to navigate the streets of the busy wizarding shopping centre with two muggle parents, but they were kind enough to offer to buy you a pet for school.
Celeste had been the best pet you’d ever had. Unlike your boring goldfish, she was rather affectionate and could understand you well. She would cuddle onto your lap while you studied and bite at the ankles of classmates you didn’t like. While at Hogwarts, she reminded you of home, and while back in London, she reminded you of your magical school.
Sadly, you hadn’t realized that when you bought her in first year, she was already pretty old. Last year at school she started limping and moving slower than usual. Within a couple of months, she had passed away. It still made you sad to think about so you brought your attention back to Mr Weasley.
“So yeah, I suppose most of the pets are pretty similar. Except, muggles normally don’t keep rats as pets,” you explained with a laugh. Mr Weasley smiled, thanked you for talking with him, and then excused himself to finish up some work in the shed outside.
You hadn’t realized how long you were talking because when you looked outside, it was already dark. Your eyes found their way to the clock again, forgetting it didn’t actually tell the time, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Ron’s hand was now pointing at “home.”
Standing up quickly, you brushed down your hair frantically, though you weren’t sure why. Ron had seen you at your worst, messy and covered in mud after many Quidditch matches, so you didn’t really have a reason to try to straighten your appearance out now. You sighed to yourself, your crush on him was really starting to make your head spin.
Just then, you heard the backdoor close behind you and you turned around. Standing there, clad in a familiar maroon jumper, was Ron. He looked slightly older than the last time you saw him when leaving Platform 9 and ¾, but that was only a few weeks ago. When your eyes met each others, his face broke out into a wide grin, and he took three long strides towards you before wrapping you into a tight hug.
“Y/n! I’m so glad you’re here,” he said through the hug. You wrapped your arms around his torso, and let yourself be engulfed in his embrace. He was much taller than you so your face was buried in his shoulder. He smelled like cinnamon and apples, just the same as his room.
“Thanks for letting me stay. I think I would’ve gone mad being cooped up in my empty house all summer,” you said once he let go of the hug.
“I think you’re already a bit mad for agreeing to spend the next few months with my hectic family, but whatever suits you,” he said, nudging your side.
You smiled as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and walked you outside.
“Where is everyone? I thought I would make it back in time for dinner,” he asked, a slight frown on his face when he saw the empty tables outside. You couldn’t blame him, his mom’s cooking was so good that you would be disappointed to miss it too.
“Won Won!” Two voices in unison came from above you. Looking up, you saw Fred and George leaning their heads out of their bedroom window, sly grins on their faces. Ron’s arm slowly slipped from your shoulder and you felt your smile falter.
“Come on up here, we’ve got a surprise for you two lovebirds,” George said with a wink. The twins had taken to calling you that two years ago when they decided to forever torment you about your love life. Much to Ron’s ex-girlfriend Lavender’s dismay, they continued calling you that even when he was dating someone. You were comforted to see that Ron’s cheeks were tinted the same color as his hair at the mention of the nickname.
As you walked up the countless stairs to the twin’s room, you and Ron caught up with one another. It was easy to feel relaxed with him and soon the awkwardness from outside seemed to disappear. You were back to being best friends again, and nothing could make you happier. Well, maybe you’d be happier if he was more than your best friend…
Not bothering to knock once you reached the landing with the twin’s door, Ron pushed the door open. That probably wasn’t the smartest idea because he was immediately hit in the face with a jet of purple sparks.
“Ow,” he said, his voice nasally as he held the bridge of his nose where the sparks had hit him.
“Sorry, mate. Better knock next time. We’d never barge into your room without warning,” George said as he pulled both of you into the room and closed the door.
“Yeah, you could have a pretty lady in there, we wouldn’t want to interrupt,” Fred continued, winking at you.
You swatted his shoulder as you stalked past them, towards the pile of what looked like fireworks in the corner of their room.
“Is this what you wanted to show us? Fireworks?” You asked.
The twins then launched into a detailed story of how these weren’t just any fireworks. They told you about how they bought them off a wizard in a pub and how they were special for Percy’s birthday in August.
“Special how?” you asked suspiciously. It was common for the twins to poke fun at their prim and uptight brother, but you were sure they wouldn’t do anything too drastic.
“That’s a surprise that you will see on August 22nd. We are throwing him a birthday party, even inviting his girlfriend, so it will be the perfect place to showcase the fireworks,” George explained.
“Then why call us up here if you aren’t even going to tell us what they bloody do?” Ron asked with an annoyed voice, still nursing his bruised nose.
The twins turned to him quickly, “We wanted to talk to y/n. Now please get out.” They ushered him to the door, with annoyed protest from Ron.
“Come on! I just got to see y/n!” He complained, as they promptly shut the door in his face.
“You’ll see her tomorrow!” Fred yelled, “Also, y/n has been staying in your room so you have to sleep on the couch downstairs. Goodnight Won Won!”
The sound of Ron’s disgruntled steps retreating to the bottom floor of the house filled your ears.
“What is it?” you asked the twins impatiently, your bad temper reflecting Ron’s.
“Have you told him yet?” George asked. “You know, about your massive heart-wrenching crush on him?”
You glared at them as you sat on the windowsill. “No, and maybe I would’ve if two hooligans such as yourselves weren’t shouting at us out of the window!”
The twins nodded, “Fair enough,” they said together.
“Just make sure you tell him before Percy’s birthday party, eh?” George said, his voice sounding guilty.
“Why?” you asked, your suspicion about the fireworks returning.
“No reason at all,” he replied curtly. Then they quickly started shoving you out of the room.
“Sweet dreams!” They said together, before shutting the door in your face. You pressed your ear to the wood, hearing low whispers exchanged between them but you couldn’t make any of their words out.
Sighing with annoyance, you walked up the stairs to Ron’s room. You felt slightly guilty for staying in his room while he slept in the couch downstairs, but he did arrive late at night so you didn’t really have time to discuss sleeping arrangements.
Once you arrived at his room, you closed the door and flopped down on the bed. You were exhausted from the day, and as you changed into pajamas and crawled under the covers, your mind drifted once again to the box of letters under the nightstand. Should you ask Ron about the letters? Or would he get mad that you were snooping in his room? Deciding to leave this dilemma for tomorrow, you shut your eyes and tried to get some sleep.
a/n: i know this isn’t a one direction account but jesus christ if any of yall read duplicity, the double update has me FUCKED UP. everyone keeps playing already gone and connecting it to harry and aven and all i can say is ouch. i’ve loved this song for so long and i wanted to write with it. for some reason all of my ron imagines are just pain, sorry about it i promise i really love him !!
the ultimate sacrifice in love is letting go. forced in a situation that you never wanted to be in, you have to make the decision of what’s more important: your happiness or his.
Hardly anything in your life has ever come easy to you. Growing up with the knowledge that you’re the daughter of two death eaters. being forced into a life you didn’t want. attempting to concentrate on classes you knew wouldn’t matter once the dark lord blew this castle to smithereens.
the only thing that did come easy to you was loving ronald weasley. the spontaneous, optimistic red haired boy who stole your heart only three years ago. the night of the yule ball, he finally worked up the nerve to tell you how pretty you look in your dress and your heart skipped a beat. you two did not act on your feelings after that for a whole year, finally confessing your feelings to the gryffindor during your fifth year. your love came with rules, however. it had to be in secret. you kept no secrets from him, not now anyway. he knew of your parents loyalty to the dark lord, you knew of his involvement with dumbledore’s army, but you’d never tell anyone.
when you we’re together, you weren’t a slytherin and a gryffindor fighting for different sides of a bloody feud, you were y/n y/l/n and ron weasley, two seventeen year olds who were madly in love with each other. your parents could never know, his friends could never know, so you only existed together behind closed doors.
“do you think there will be a day when i don’t have to keep you—us—a secret anymore?” ron asks as his hands run lighting through your hair. you lay together in the room of requirement as you do every night after sneaking away from your roommates.
you want to tell him yes, that one day this war will blow over, that the two of you will be able to parade around your love for the world. but you can’t lie to him. the more you learn about voldemort’s plans, his mission to kill your boyfriend’s best friend, the more bleak the future becomes.
“i hope so,” is the only reply you can fathom. you know deep down that there is little hope for the two of you. that ron will always be loyal to his best friends and you to your family. there’s no sense in dreaming of a happily ever after that will never come.
so you don’t think of the future. you think of now. you think of the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, one that you’ll cherish until your last breath. you wish you could plan for what could have lied ahead for the two of you, if the world wasn’t what it is. meeting his family, falling into rhythm with the loud and energetic aura of the burrow that ron has told you so much about. moving in with him, marrying him, having a hundred ginger children running around your backyard. how your heart aches for the dream of a life with him.
“i think there will be,” he muses, only making the pain in your chest grow. “i think by some twist of fate we’ll be together forever.”
you wished it was true.
the small glimmer of hope you held in your heart to one day be with ron faded more with every second you spent at malfoy manor. you and draco weren’t so different after all. you only wanted to make your parents proud, you didn’t necessarily want this life. you were also close with the blond boy, even more so the deeper you became embedded in the dark lord’s plans. surrounded by death eaters at the large table in malfoy manor, your heart was in your throat. your parents to your left and draco to your right, you found comfort knowing that draco was probably feeling the same way you were, scared.
the conversation droned out around you, all of them discussing potter, but your mind continued pulling to the boy who was sat back in a safe house somewhere, you never knew where. you sent letters to each other in secret but you begged him not to disclose his location, fearing the knowledge would be torn from you by the dark lord. it had only been a few days, but you miss his letters
“one of our youngest may prove to be more helpful than we initially thought,” the dark lord calls, pulling you from your daydream. your mothers hand fell into your lap and squeezed your hand. “y/n, it seems like you have formed quite the bond with one of potter’s closest confidants, a weasley, no?”
draco snaps his head to look at you, disbelief painting his features. you kept your eyes ahead of you, staring at the details of his crisp table in front of you to distract yourself from the hammering in yours chest.
“well?” the dark lord speaks up again, making you turn your eyes to face him. “don’t leave us waiting for your answer.”
“my lord,” you squeak out, barely audible. draco takes the hand your mother is not holding it to remind you you’re not alone in this. “i will do anything, anything for you. please do not bring him into this.”
he only laughs at you. making your heart twist in fear. you can’t betray ron, you can’t put him in harms way.
“look at how she begs,” he continues to laugh, other adults at the table catching on and joining in on his tease. you’ve never felt more belittled in your life. “you must know something of their whereabouts.”
“i do not, my lord.” you reply in earnest, you had no idea where they were hiding. you’re grateful for your blissful ignorance in this moment. “i swear it.”
the dark lord narrows his eyes toward you. draco squeezes your hand causing your to look at him. ‘tell him’ he mouths, fearing that you’ll be on the other end of an avada kedavra if you don’t. ‘i don’t know’ you mouth back.
the silence is deafening.
“my lord, please. i told you i’ll do anything, anything you wish,” you plead, hoping to come off the topic of ron. “you can search my brain for their whereabouts but i promise i don’t know.”
it’s quiet again. you begin to wonder what ron is doing right now. what he would think if he could see where you are.
“you’ll receive the mark,” the dark lord finally speaks up. “both of you, draco as well.”
you shut your eyes tight at his demand, squeezing draco’s hand tighter. you don’t want the dark mark, neither does draco, but you’ll die if you don’t get it.
“either this or you find that little boyfriend of yours and bring him and his dear potter to me,” he give the ultimatum, worse than your own death, you’d be the facilitator of his. you open your eyes and wordlessly nod. “good.”
you would do anything to protect him, you love him more than you thought you could ever love a person. if you were to get the dark mark, become a death eater, you couldn’t be with him. you would become everything he was fighting against, you couldn’t ignore that anymore.
so standing next to draco in borgin and burkes, the dark mark finally plagued your forearm. you can’t help but let a single tear shed at the thought of ron ever seeing this mark on you, hating you for it. you love him so much, you went through this to protect him from the dark lord, so you have to let him go.
dear ron,
i know i haven’t written in a while, the world is upside down, and all i can ever think about is you and your safety, so i couldn’t write to you. remember all the things we wanted? that night you asked if we could ever truly be together? i wanted all of that with you, i wanted to grow old with you. meet your family, move in together, live outside of this secret. i wanted to have a normal love with you. i think i knew it the back of my mind that we wouldn’t get our happy ending. we were born into different sides of this bloody battle. we were always meant to say goodbye. star-crossed lovers, that’s what you always said right?
i’ve had to make some decisions, ron, ones i’m not proud of. i need you to know i did it all for you, i’ve wanted to protect you since i knew i loved you. you have been the most important person to me, i couldn’t live with myself if i put you in danger. i know what you’re thinking, that we could have done this together. we could have fought for us, for this, but we were never meant for do or die. i think you know that.
don’t let this change who you are, i love who you are, please stay that way. stay optimistic, believe in love and happiness. i know you won’t want to, you’re stubborn just like me, but I know that you’ll find another. another love that won’t hurt, another love that’s easy. don’t be afraid to love her with everything you have. that’s all i could ever want for you. i wish i could tell you this in person, hug you—kiss you—one last time, but looking at you makes it harder. i know i would chicken out. our time together, those moments we had alone, just the two of us without a thought of what was happening in this cruel world, they were perfect. know that i’ll never regret one second i spent with you. you made my heart feel like it was on fire, you let me know what true love is like and i am so grateful for that. but no matter how perfect we were, perfect couldn’t keep this love alive.
so i have to go away for a while. i don’t know if i’ll ever be back, i don’t know if i’ll survive this so i need you to know this isn’t me leaving without any sort of love for you. i have to leave because i love you. you know that i love you so, i love you enough to let you go. it may seem selfish but i can’t keep dragging you into harms way, i’m sorry. there was no road we couldn’t have taken where we both make it out of this, where our love conquers all. i wish that was the case but it isn’t. someone’s gotta go. i can’t hurt you anymore than i already have, so it has to be me. i have to go so you can live.
so i guess this is goodbye. trust me when i say my heart breaks a little more with every word i write on this page. i know it’s cliche to say, but this has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me and the choices i made. the choices that ultimately placed the last nail in the coffin of the hope that we could be together forever. i want you to know you couldn’t have loved me better. not a day will go by where i don’t think of your heart, your smile, the things that made me fall in love with you in the first place. you knew about my flaws, about my family and you still loved me. i cannot thank you enough for showing me what real love looks like.
i know you don’t agree, that i’m stupid for giving up my greatest love story, for letting you slip through my fingers but this is how it has to be. i want you to be happy, and that can only be if i’m gone. i could never ask you to choose between me and your best friends, your family, so i made the choice. you can be angry with me, hate me if it helps, whatever makes it easier to erase me from your mind, from your heart. a piece of me will always belong to you ronald weasley, but i want you to move on, so i’m already gone.
a/n: i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again, i am a SIMP for neville longbottom. also yall… one away from 1k, how’d that happen? you guys rock my socks and i love you the absolutely most! sorry this one is kind of short i just liked the concept.
you’ve been friends with neville longbottom since first year. becoming comfortable with the shy boy and his frog over the years, you began calling him a nickname that makes him wish you would see him as anything other than your best friend.
warnings: zero baby just pure fluff
neville doesn’t open up to just anyone. after years of being shut down in every conversation, left out of nearly every house activity, he’s built a wall to protect himself from the people of hogwarts who constantly make him feel less than. you’re one of the lucky ones. you’ve seen beyond his high walls, he’s opened up to you about his parents, his insecurities and eventually pulled him out of his shell to talk about girls with you.
the nickname started when he told you about his small crush on luna lovegood. he seemed so entranced by her, he kissed the ground he walked on. once you caught on to his pining, you’ve called him loverboy ever since. it’s not to be mean or tease him, you actually admired how much he devoted his time to thinking about her.
what you didn’t know, however, is that it was never luna lovegood he was talking about. when he would describe his feelings for luna her name was only a placeholder for yours. he’d loved you since the moment he laid eyes on you, thinking even your crooked teeth, frizzy haired eleven year old self was the most beautiful creature he’d ever see.
“good morning loverboy,” you call sweetly as you sit next to the dark haired boy in potions class. you never found this class particularly interesting, but being able to sit next to neville made it at least slightly more fun. his heart aches at the nickname, trying to conceal the blush that is creeping on his cheeks. “sleep well?”
“hardly,” he replies, still keeping up his façade. “harry talks in his sleep all through the night. keeps me and trevor awake for hours.”
you smile at the mention of his beloved frog. “oh my dear trevor! how is my favorite amphibian?”
neville can’t contain his smile or his heart that hammering in his chest. you’re the only person who’s ever shown interest in the things he likes, the things he goes on and on about for hours. you’ve never once stopped him from going off on a tangent about his mimbulus mimbletonia or how he’s lost trevor for the tenth time that week. you’ve never rolled your eyes when he comes to sit with you in the library. you’ve never shied away from sitting next to him in herbology though many students find his chiming in rather annoying.
“he’s good,” he replies, trying to stop himself from gazing at you for too long. “i think he misses you.”
you laugh at his response, you really do love that frog. “you better make sure i’m not replaced as trevor’s favorite girl when you finally make a move on luna,” you tease but his heart drops. he knows it’s only a joke but he can’t imagine loving anyone other than you. “if i’m losing one of my loverboys i don’t think my heart could take losing the other as well.”
except you could never lose him. he can’t think of a time when his heart would belong to anyone else. he couldn’t say the same for you. as much as he wants to be around you and knows the nickname isn’t meant to make him sad, it only reminds him of the fact that he’ll never truly be your loverboy. the time will come when you go for a weasley or maybe even that ravenclaw boy you’ve talked about in defends against the dark arts with you and neville isn’t quite sure his heart will survive it.
as professor snape opened his book at the front of the class, the class quieted down. veritaserum. you had heard about the potion, mostly from the weasley twins slipping it in their younger brother’s drink once or twice, but you’d never used it. neville begins to fidget nervously beside you, and you think you know why. privacy has always been very important to the boy and something forcing him to talk about his deepest darkest fears or worse, his parents, is probably eating away at him.
you’re wrong. he’s so nervous because he’s afraid he’ll slip up if he takes it and someone will accidentally ask him about you. he won’t be able to keep his secret anymore.
“s’alright nev,” you whisper to him, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it slightly. an act of intended comfort made him nauseous. “i won’t let anyone pull any secrets from my loverboy, promise.”
you give him a sweet smile which only makes his heart race more. you’re so beautiful, even without the potion he could’ve let that thought slip to you if he wasn’t too careful. as class goes on, he thanks his lucky stars he isn’t chosen for the demonstration. watching you brew the potion to perfection surely would have made it difficult for him to keep back all the feelings he has for you.
later in the evening, however, he did not get so lucky. the twins somehow convinced seamus and dean to slip a few drops of the potion they’d learned to make that morning into neville’s pumpkin juice at dinner. you didn’t notice or surely you would have taken it from them and scolded them for picking on the boy, but you were to engrossed in a conversation with hermione to catch it. neville almost immediately realizes what’s happened when seamus begins asking him questions.
“how your feeling, longbottom?”
“tired, honestly kind of sweaty, really think i need a shower after dinner,” he says before he can stop himself, he smacks his hand to him mouth and his cheeks go red. dean and seamus burst out laughing making all of you turn to the three of them.
“sweaty? why would you possibly be sweaty neville?” dean continues the interrogation.
“been nervous all day, especially in potions. couldn’t get my mind off the stupid veritaserum and if anyone would ask me about y/n,” neville replies with his cheeks turning more red by the minute. you now had your full attention in the boy and he couldn’t stop the word vomit spilling from his lips. “you should have seen her, she brewed the potion perfectly. she’s so smart. godric and beautiful, i-”
you immediately stop him by smacking your own hand to his mouth. “merlin’s sake what did the two of you do?”
dean and seamus have a cheeky grin spread across their lips. “fred and george gave us veritaserum to put in his juice, didn’t think this would happen.”
without a second thought you pull your best friend from the table and out of the great hall to spare him of any more embarrassment he would have to endure. neville follows you blindly, grateful that you didn’t sit there and start laughing at him. when you get to the common room it’s empty, everyone being at dinner. you pull him to sit on the couch in front of the fireplace, he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you look in the glowing flame.
“are you okay?” you ask, pulling your hand from his to look into his eyes. “i’m sorry they did that nev, you didn’t deserve that.”
“i’m more than okay,” he replies with a lazy grin on his face before switching back to his stone cold face full of nerves. “i like it when we’re by ourselves, wish it happened more often.”
“what do you mean, loverboy?”
“i wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he snaps but immediately regrets his tone. “not if you don’t mean it.”
“what are you on about? i mean it.”
“not in the way i want you to mean it…”
you’re trying to wrap you’re mind around what’s happening. sure you and neville have always been close and you compliment eachother here and there but this is different. you don’t want to take advantage of him, not when he’ll tell you everything you want to know while you can sit back and enjoy the show. you swiftly get up and tell him you’ll be right back. he sits on the couch confused as he watches you run out of the room. you make it to the great hall and everyone is looking at you as if you’ve gotten answers out of him that they’d want to know but you ignore him. you lift the tainted cup that neville had drank out of just minutes ago and take a swig.
“y/n!” hermione shrieks and you swallow the liquid. “what do you think you’re doing!”
“getting answers.” you say simply before running out of the room. you don’t feel any different, maybe it hadn’t worked. once you reach the common room again neville is exactly where you left him. “back.”
“what’d you do?”
“i drank the veritserum too,” you tell him and his eyes go wide. “this is going to be a fair conversation.”
neville swallows the lump in his throat at the thought of the two of you being completely honest with each other. he’s partly afraid the truth he’s about to hear is that you only want to be his friend, or that him confessing his feeling for you will only push you away. but there’s another part of him that’s hopeful, you took the veritaserum so this would be “fair,” that has to mean something.
“what were you doing to say when i stopped you earlier?” you ask him. “you said ‘i’ but i stopped you.”
he tries his best to push down the answer but it keeps making its way up his throat. “i was going to say i couldn’t keep my eyes off you all class.”
blush creeps onto your cheeks but you’re not certain why. you noticed him looking at you in potions but you assumed he was trying to understand how to make the potion.
“you’re turn.”
he thinks for a while, unsure of what he should ask you. “do you like matthew, the boy you talk about in ravenclaw, like like him?”
“i like him as a friend, nothing else,” you say back, your heart beginning to race. “do you like luna?”
“i never did, i like someone else.” he answers. you wish it was your turn again, you want to ask him who, part of you knows he’s going to say you given what you’ve learned this evening. you reach out to hold his hand and his touch makes your skin burn. “have you ever thought of us as more than friends?”
you want to say yes, you know it the answer he wants to hear, but it’s not the truth. you can’t lie to him even if you wanted to. before this moment, you only thought of him as a friend. not because you dislike him or think he’s unattractive, it’s just all he’s ever been to you. you take a deep breath and turn your eyes down to the floor.
“honestly, no,” you say back, neville swears he can hear his heart break within him rib cage. his heart burns at your response. he’s gotten his answer. “when did you start to think of me as more than a friend.”
he never came out and said he had feelings for you, but you’ve connected the dots. everything he’s answered, all the questions he’s asked points to him looking at you as more than just his friend. you’re not sure how to feel about it.
“first year, the minute you spoke to me i couldn’t help but think you were the most beautiful girl i’d ever seen, i still do, ” his words make your heart burst. you turn your head to meet his eyes again. they’re burning into you’re gaze. “what is it about me that’s made you only think of me as a friend, do you think i’m ugly?”
“godric no!” you say a bit too quickly for your own liking. “i never thought of you that way because that’s all we ever were neville, friends. i noticed how handsome you were last year, the long hair suited you, but i think you look nice any way you are. i had a dream about you at the christmas last year, i think that’s when i noticed how handsome you were. i guess i just never entertained the thought because you never gave me the impression you wanted anything more than this.”
he feels less shattered, less like you just ripped his heart out with your bare hands. hearing that you think he’s handsome sent butterflies to stomach. he’s quiet and so are you.
“do you want to stop?”
“no, i have another question,” he replies, pulling his hands from yours and backing away from you. you miss his touch already. maybe you did like him a little more than you thought. he braces himself for what’s about to come out of his mouth, for your reaction to what’s about to come out of his mouth. “if i asked to kiss you would you say no?”
“no.” you tell him quietly, if you thought your heart couldn’t pound any faster, it did. it feels like it’s about to jump from your chest. “do you want to kiss me?”
“merlin yes,” he almost whispers. he doesn’t move from his spot, eyes avoiding yours at all costs. always being the braver of the two of you, you take matters into your own hands. you pull yourself closer to him and rest your hand upon his cheek, forcing him to make eye contact with you again. you suck in a breath, the closest the two of you had ever been. “i’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“i know.”
you lean forward only a few centimeters until your lips are barely touching. you hesitate only because you know after this moment you can’t go back to being just friends again, this is going to change everything. even so, there’s like a magnetic pull between you too, you’re craving the feeling of his lips against yours.
while still deep in your thought and hesitations, your eyes drilled shut as you try and decide what to do, you feel his lips press against yours and you melt. it’s better than either of you could have imagined. while neville had be dreaming of this moment for six years, you had only just begun thinking about him in this way minutes ago. you place your free hand on the side of his neck and he places his on the small of your back, pulling you closer into him. You move yourself so that your sat on top of his thighs, attempting to expel any space between the two of you. his hands rest on your hips just before you pull away from him to catch your breath. his eyes flicker between yours, looking for an answer to what you’re feeling.
“i’m sorry,” he says sheepishly, thinking the worst. “do you want to stop? we can pretend this never happened.”
“i never want to stop.”
you connect your lips with his again, slinging your arms around his neck to feel the closeness again. you know he’s never done anything like this before, he’s probably nervous out of his mind, so you attempt to ease his worries by guiding his actions. in just the few minutes you’ve spent with your lips on his, you’ve because obsessed with the feeling. you can hear how heavily he’s breathing as his hand moves from your side to be entangled in your hair. you can’t help but smile, this moment is pure bliss.
you eventually pull away from each other, you decide it’s best to keep this night to just his first kiss. you lean forward and plant a soft kiss to the side of his neck before burying your face in the soft skin. eventually his breath evens out, and he moves his arms to wrap around you.
“what happens now?” he asks, hoping the veritaserum can give him some sort of clear view into your brain.
“i don’t know,” you reply, it’s honest, you have no idea what happens from here on out. “what do you want to happen?”
“i want to kiss you like that a million more times,” he breathes out which makes you laugh into his neck. looks like ther veritaserum hasn’t worn off just yet. “can we just sit here for a minute so we don’t have to think about what’s gonna come?”
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.
Champagne & Shackles; Beta Part Two (Fred Weasley)
a/n: i’m SORRY i’m terrible at time management, school is kicking me ass. i had no idea so many of you had the same affinity for the brothers of the beta fraternity as i do, this is for all my frat rats out there i love you most. this is an ode to my very favorite date party theme: champagne and shackles. in which you and you’re chad or brad of a date are candcuffed together until you finish a massive bottle of champagne between the two of you.
weeks after the infamous beta darty, you can’t seem to pull your thoughts or presence away from the ginger boy who made your heart skip a beat. That is, until you’re invited to the beta champagne and shackled date party.
y/f/n: your friend’s name
warnings: cussing, alcohol, mentions of sex, modern!fred, and also very typical frat boy lingo stolen straight from the mouths of frat boy i associate myself with
disclaimer: while they’re semi-drunk in this they’re still coherent and stable enough to know what they’re doing. nothing that happens in this is coercive or decided under an incapacitated mind. king freddie would never take advantage of a girl like that.
You have been completely consumed with the the thought of a certain red head for weeks now. Since you kissed him goodbye on your front lawn, the image of Fred Weasley has yet to leave your brain. While you’ve been at the same school for almost two years, you’ve seen him more in the few weeks following the beta darty than you have in the 18 months you’ve spent on campus. Lines in coffee shops, the terrace at the union, the corners of the library you’ve inhabited for years. He’s everywhere. Not that you’re complaining.
The grin that plays across his lips every time you catch his eye sends your heart into overdrive. You’ve spent countless nights awake in y/f/n’s bed analysing every text, every snapchat, every story. You replay the day in the beta backyard at least once a day, yearning for the feeling of his touch on your skin. You’ve hardly returned to the brick-faced mansion, however. You’ve of course been invited through Draco and the countless group messages that flood your phone the nights leading up to a beta party, but you want himto invite you. You want him to want you there.
Of course he wants you there. He spends hours in that filthy basement he calls home every weekend searching for you among the dozens of drunk girls, hoping you had decided to turn up this time. But you’re not there.
Y/f/n mentioned date party to you this past weekend. Draco being social chair of the fraternity, he’s been planning the function for weeks. Champagne and Shackles. A fan favorite among every sorority girl throughout the school. Mixing together handcuffs and a massive bottle of champagne would have nearly anyone begging for an invite. You decide not to get your hopes up, constantly reminding yourself that while he is the boy that made you feel like you were the only two people in the world while you were surrounded by hundreds of drunk college boys, he’s still a twenty year old beta boy. It’s hard to stray from the hook up culture that he’s been practically bred into. Nevertheless, there is still a glimmer of hope in you that you’ll be cuffed to him this Saturday night instead of another girl he’s probably found on greek row.
He’s been drafting this text in the notes app of his phone for three days now. He’s changed the wording, the punctuation and the amount of details in his intended invite to you one hundred times now. George and Oliver groan every time he stops their studying or game of Call of Duty to read them the revised text he’s come up with this time.
“My god, Weasley, you’re acting like you’re writing your vows.” Oliver jokes, setting his xbox controller down on the makeshift coffee table in the twins room. “Just send it, you know she’ll say yes.”
But that’s the problem, he doesn’t know that.
“Wood we’ve thrown six times in the past month, she’s come once.” Fred reminds him of the painful fact that it seems like you’re just not that into him. “If I was sure she was gonna say yes I would have done it by now.”
George snatches his twin’s phone from his hands, copying the now final draft of this overly thought out text asking you to his date party. Before Fred can spring up from his bed, George has already got the message pasted into Fred’s text chain with you and hit send, making the color drain from his twin’s face.
“Are you fucking serious, George.” Fred finally reaches his younger brother and tackles him to the ground. “I barely read through it she’s gonna think I’m a fucking weirdo.”
George is able to shake his brother off of him, bursting out laughing with Oliver at Fred’s crazed state. George knew Fred had feelings for you, well practically every who spoke to a drunk him for more that ten minutes knew, but it was still comical to see his twin get so worked up over a girl he hadn’t even slept with yet.
“Fred you’ve been reading the stupid thing for an hour now,” He points out, Oliver nods his head in agreement. “What’s the worst that could happen? Huh? She says no and you ask one of the eight hundred other girls who fawn over you every chance they get. I know you like her Freddie but this isn’t a life or death thing.”
As Fred caught his breath from his outburst, he knew George had a point. He wouldn’t drop dead if you rejected his offer, but it sure help like he would.
hey idk if you’ve heard but our date party is this saturday and i was wondering if you would want to come
Your phone lights up just as you sit down to eat dinner with a couple of your friends. Once you see the name fred weasley next to the notification your heart stops. Taking y/f/n’s hand in yours, you turn the screen so she can read it. Her lips turn up in a grin as she squeezes your hand.
“I told you he would ask you,” She squeals, shaking her shoulders in her little ‘happy dance’ as she likes to put it. “Draco won’t stop talking about how tweaked Weasley’s been over some stupid text. I knew it was about you, I just knew it.”
You laugh at her imitation of her boyfriend, knowing it’s not far off from how he actually sounds. You reread the text probably thirty times, feeling even more giddy over such a simple and honestly not very personal text, but you don’t care. He asked you.
You spend far less time crafting a response than Fred did writing the initial text to you. If what y/f/n said is true and he really mulled over this for days, you may pass out.
i’d love to :)
The love seemed a bit overboard in your opinion, but y/f/n convinced you that it was a perfect response. You didn’t allow yourself to start looking for possible dress options until he really asked you, afraid you might jinx it if you bought a dress prematurely. Now, however, you’re on a time crunch. Someone in the house had to have something you could borrow. That night you try on at least ten dresses, all the girls on your floor flooding your room gushing over the fact that the Fred Weasley is taking you to his date party. He’s someone nearly everyone knows, and if they didn’t they were probably a geed, or lived in sophomore slums.
You finally land on a dark blue, spaghetti strapped sequin dress that clung tight to your curves. While nearly every dress you tried on felt like it might work, this is champagne and shackles after all, you have to dress to impress. Y/f/n won’t stop talking about what Fred will do the minute he sees you in the dress, praying she gets to watch his jaw drop. The two of you stay up late into the night again mushing over the thought of the two of you being swept off your feet by beta boys, the same boys you could hardly think about a month ago without becoming nauseous.
pregames at the house, malfoy and i will come by yours to grab you and y/f/n at 6:30
The text comes in Friday night. You can hardly contain the bubbling feeling in your stomach. As much as you feel like you’re sixteen years old again, you don’t care. You’ve finally joined the ninety percent of girls on greek row in one category, you’re crushing on Fred Weasley.
As the day finally rolls around, Fred is surprisingly back to his calm and collected demeanor. As much as the boys, and to be honest he himself, expected him to be bouncing off the walls over a slew of what if’s regarding the night ahead of him, he was rather calm about it all. He’s one half of the coveted Weasley Twins after all, he has a reputation to uphold.
The same cannot be said for you. As you curl your hair and apply your makeup to perfection, you can’t stop your knee from bouncing under the vanity counter you’re sat in front of. What if he secretly thinks you look bad in your dress? That you look like you tried to hard? As much as y/f/n tried to remind you of the fact that he was the one nervous about asking you, nothing seems to ease your growing anxiety. The hours tick closer to six-thirty and you sit patiently on your bed, completely ready and aimlessly scrolling through your socials to keep your mind off of the fact that in only twenty minutes Fred and Draco would be at your door to take you back to beta. The actual date party would be at one of the satellite houses, the penthouse of a nearby apartment paid for by betas massive budget.
Y/f/n takes your hand and forces you to look at her.
“Y/n,” She begins, now holding both of your hands between hers. “You are the hottest bitch this campus has ever seen. No one, not even Fred Weasley, deserves to be blessed with the absolute vision you are right now, but I guess he’ll have to do.”
You laugh at her attempt to hype you up in ten hopes that the knots in your stomach fade away. They partially do, but part of you is still in shambles over the thought of seeing him. He probably looks like even more of a greek god in a suit. Y/f/n’s phone buzzes with an ever so poetic ‘here’ text from her boyfriend and she gives your hands one more squeeze before dragging you down the staircase of your house. The boys are waiting just beyond the lawn, the same one you kissed Fred on weeks ago. The two of them have their hands in their pockets, looking like they’re deep in conversation, not even noticing that you and y/f/n are standing walking toward them.
He’s wearing a dark gray suit with a white button down with the top three buttons undone. His hair is perfectly messy. You didn’t even think it was possible for him to get any hotter, but here he is.
The boys turn their heads and immediately stop their conversation. The blonde’s face turns up in a smirk as his eyes trail over y/f/n’s body, but Fred is standing perfectly still with his mouth slightly agape as he watches you come closer to him. His cool and collected affect quickly runs out of his body as he watches your dress glitter under the street light.
“Told you.” Y/f/n whispers in your ear before she drops your hand to meet her boyfriend.
Draco greets y/f/n with a kiss and Fred pulls you into a hug. You melt at his touch. Even in the heels you borrowed from y/f/n, he still towers over you, his chin resting on top of your head.
“You look…” Fred trails off, trying to find the words to describe the sight in front of him. Heavenly, goddess like, like he might just skip the date party and get down on one knee. “…incredible.”
You muster up whatever confidence you have in the midst of your imposing anxiety to give him a somewhat composed reply. “You don’t look half bad yourself, Weasley.”
That heart-melting, mind-scrambling smile returns to his lips before the four of you begin walking what to the beta house. Fred keeps his hand on the small of your back the entire walk, desperately trying to keep you close to him.
The ungodly amount of alcohol you consume at the pregame seems to overtake any remaining worries in your body. Fred never leaves your side, as if you’re already cuffed together before you even arrive at the function itself. You talk with George and Oliver again, and meet some of Fred’s other fraternity brothers like Lee Jordan and Theo Nott. They all seem to know who you are before you can even introduce yourself. It would be difficult to not know your face after watching fred gawk over your every instagram post. Any sort of reservations you once held about the beta boys melt away. They may be wildly intimidating to a stranger that passed them on the street, but watching the boys sing along to whatever song is blasting through the speaker while dancing like they’ve just learned to walk shows you that they’re like every other boy you’ve met.
The walk to the penthouse is short, but it seems to take forever to reign everyone in everyone once in a while. Fred is continuously checking up on you, grasping your hand or your waist, making sure you aren’t cold in your dress. The second you make it to the penthouse you’re immediately cuffed to the red haired boy and handed a comically large bottle of champagne and told the rules.
No unshackling until you’ve finished the bottle.
The party is far more cramped than the one in their backyard. You can’t bring yourself to care about the occasionally bumps from someone in the crowd or the growing smell of alcohol around you. You’re completely consumed by the angelic giant dancing with you. Even with the handcuffs, Fred’s fingers are still intertwined with yours as his other hand is holding you close to his body, roaming from your waist to your back and over your ass. Anytime you go to open the bottle you’d been given at the door to continue on feeding the buzzed state you’ve been in since you arrived at the beta house, Fred stops you. He still grabs you drinks from the makeshift bar and pulls you into the ‘shot room’ to send copious amounts of burning liquor down your throat, but the bottle stays off limits.
“You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about you this month, y/n.” Fred hiccups his way through his confession as his lips are pressed close to your ear to make sure you hear every word he says over the loud music. “You do something to me.”
You know whatever you try to say will come out slurred, so you do the next best thing you can think of to tell him that you’re feeling the same way. You wrap your free hand behind his neck to press your lips to his. He immediately pulls you closer into him like he was a dying man grasping onto his only source of oxygen. Again, with your lips tangled in his, you’re suddenly the only two in the room. This moment is one you know will occupy your thoughts until the end of time. Held by the boy you’re completely enamored with as the world seems to stop around you. In every sense of the word, it is perfect.
When you pull away from each other to gasp for air, you move your lips to his ear.
“Why can’t I open the champagne?”
He leans back to look you in the eyes. The colored led lights changing on his face make him somehow even more breathtaking. That same smile appears on his lips before he leans down toward you again.
“I don’t want to finish it,” He yells over the bass of the speaker. “I want you to be stuck with me for as long as possible.”
Without a second thought, you pull your hands together to take the bottle from Fred’s free hand to pop the cork off the top before he can stop you. You bring the freshly opened champagne to your lips and take a swig before offering it over to him. His brows furrow in confusion, wondering if maybe you do want to be unchained from him.
“Freddie, if you think it’s going to take an empty bottle to get rid of me you’re wrong,” You try to shout, even in all the noise he hears you and his chest tightens. “Cuffed or not, I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
He doesn’t reply, he simply takes the bottle from your hand and begins to chugs the fizzy drink, spilling over his face slightly. Watching him fumble over the liquid you know isn’t easy to take in large amounts, you can’t help but laugh at the sight in front of you. The words of Kid Cudi’s Pursuit of Happiness flood yours ears and you pull yourself right back against Fred’s body. He pulls the bottle from his mouth and hands it back to you before bringing his hand to your cheek to meet your lips once again. You’re sure you’re perfectly done hair and makeup is a wreck by now but your mind is continuously pulled back to the impossible reality that you’re kissing Fred Weasley. Of all the girls in the party, on this campus that flock to his side any chance they get, you’re the one that Fred Weasley suddenly became nervous around. The one he spent days wracking his brain to craft the perfect image of himself to.
His hand entangles in your more than likely sweaty hair, keeping you held exactly in place against his body as his hips sway against yours. His lips move from yours to your jaw, placing quick and light kisses across the skin. Something that would under any circumstance feel sexually driven feels lighthearted, pulling numerous giggles from your lips. His hand wanders down to your side and in a swift motion begins to tickle you through you dress. You laugh only become louder as you try to keep from doubling over.
“Fred!” You squeal through the stream of giggles. “Freddie stop!”
When you begin to snort, Fred loses it. He can no longer contain his stoic face he had on when he began to tease you. You’re eventually pulled from the party, Freds hand clasping yours as he discards the empty bottle in some corner of the penthouse and brings you to be unchained from him by the pledges standing by the entrance. Even with the cuffs off your wrists, you’re still chained to him as if you’re forced to be.
Before you can leave the apartment, Fred’s jacket is shrugged from his shoulders and placed around yours. You pull yours arms through the sleeves that are obviously too long for you. “What a gentleman.”
“Can’t have you catching a cold,” He replies, holding you by your waist as you walk back to the beta house. You’ve never seen it so empty or quiet, no one around with the exception of a few boys studying in their lounge. You return to the bedroom you were in only hours ago, it’s a mess from the pregame but you’re able to make out Fred’s bed from his brothers. Massive movie posters and stolen items from various sororities hanging on the walls around his bed, the Good Will Hunting poster above the bed with the blue comforter being a dead giveaway that it belonged to Fred. He told you it was his favorite one night.
“You don’t have to, but you’re welcome to crash here,” He asks, beginning unbutton his now stained dress shirt, revealing his toned abdomen. It’s a sight you don’t think you’ll ever quite get used to. You stop yourself from nearly drooling and shake yourself back to reality. “You can borrow some clothes, probably be pretty big on you but they’d be better than that dress.”
He already has a tee shirt and boxers held out for you. He’s secretly hoping you’re too tired to walk back to your own house so he can spend a little while longer with you. Taking the clothing from his hands, you begin to slip the straps of your dress down, signalling Fred to immediately turn around to give you some privacy. You mouth a quick oh my god to yourself before continuing the change into the boy’s clothing.
“You can turn around,” You tell him and his eyes meet yours once again. He gives you a quick once over before his lips break out in a smile. “What? What are you so smiley over?”
“I like you in my clothes.”
Immediately your heart begins to hammer in your chest as your cheeks begin to heat up. Exhaustion washes over you, the lack of sleep you got in the past week due to your constant overthinking finally catch up to you. After switching off the lights, he pulls back him dark comforter to let you slip into the warmth of his bed. As soon as your settled you turn on your side to face him. You’re both quiet, wordlessly taking in the sight of each other.
“I like you, y/n. A lot,” He finally breaks the silence. You can’t help but wonder if he’s drunker than he’s let on. He’s not, he knows exactly what he’s saying and means every word. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before.”
You reach over to trace your finger up his defined cheek bones before resting your palm on the side of his face. His arm is lazily slung over your waist, absentmindedly keeping you close to him. You lean in further, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“I like you, Freddie, more than you know,” You confess. Your heart has never felt more full, you’re sure this whole month has been a dream and every second you’re terrified to wake up without even knowing Fred Weasley like you do now. “Thank you for taking me tonight.”
He softly chuckles, his hand moving up your body to stroke through your hair. Even in the dark you can see his bright smile, you’re new favorite sight. “I should be the one thanking you,” He tells you. “You have no idea how nervous I was that you wouldn’t come.”
You continue to shift closer to him, trying to expel the practically nonexistent space between the two of you. You nestle your face into the crook of his neck, finding his steady pulse quite calming. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Freddie.”
“I like it when you call me Freddie.”
You hum a response, suddenly becoming too tired to even speak. The warmth of his body radiating against yours mixed with the rhythm of his heartbeat lull you further into a deep sleep. His arms return to being wrapped around your waist, drinking in this moment and silently praying in would last forever. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head before whispering, “Goodnight, y/n.”
Hours later George, Lee and Oliver stumble into the room, all with slices of pizza from the late night shop down the street and are met with the sight of you and Fred tangled in the sheets, light snores coming from the red haired boy. They wish they could find something about the moment that they would tease him about later, but they come up short. The image laid out in front of them looks like it was taken straight from a movie.
Needless to say your constant thoughts of the beta boy are soon replaced by his presence anywhere and everywhere you go. You aren’t sure of many things in life, but you’re certain that he was made for you and you for him.
a/n: I had a whole frat boy series for the dolan twins and I cannot stay away, frat boys have my heart, both in real life and in imagines. Everything I do in life is for the chads and brads of the world.
beta theta pi has always been a fraternity you were intimidated by. they’re title as top house has always made you feel too insecure to go anywhere near them, but when your best friend starts dating a beta boy you’re forced to face the top house at their annual spring darty (day party for those who are unware)
disclaimer: hogwarts is basically just one greek row shawties. beta boys are hot, so expect the hottest of hogwarts to be in it.
y/f/n = your friend’s name
warnings: alcohol, sexual allusions, fratboy!fred
_____________
As the weather gets warmer on campus, that can only mean one thing: Darty Season. After suffering through the brutal winter, greek row opens up its lawns and lake front docks to the brothers and sisters of the greek system. Being the undisputed top house, Beta Theta Pi’s spring darties are always the most coveted invite. With their massive backyard and gallons of supplied liquor, theres not a soul on greek row who wouldn’t want a taste of the party of a lifetime. Well, except one.
You never bought into the beta supremacy like all of your sorority sister have. To be quite honest, you’re slightly terrified of the brick faced mansion only a block away from you. You’ve never heard anything that bad about the brothers, just that their looks and entitlement make any girl an easy target for heartache.
Before you came to college, you had a longterm boyfriend who you agreed to stay with as long as possible, even over long distance. However, the summer before you kissed your hometown goodbye, he decided being tied down wasn’t for him and slept with a girl he met at orientation. He was only away for three days. So you kept your distance from beta and all the boys who had the capacity to make you feel as shattered as you did the July morning your ex boyfriend returned from his trip with a hickey on his neck.
Your distance suddenly became harder to keep when your best friend, your roommate and sorority sister, shacked up with some beta boy she met in her communications class. You warned her as much as you could, her boyfriend being the blonde rich boy every girl whispered about, but Draco proved you wrong the minute he started begging her to be his girlfriend.
So here you are, next to y/f/n who’s tucked under Draco’s arm as you walk toward the house thats bursting with sound and alcohol. He insisted on walking the two of you to the house, assuring none of the pledges would look at ‘his girl’ the wrong way. You’ve passed the beta house plenty of times over your past two years at school, never once have you gotten over the sinking feeling in your stomach to ever go in.
“Y/n, relax, we’re not a bunch of cavemen,” Draco speaks up once he notices how you’re holding your arms across your chest. Y/f/n told him about why you were so apprehensive about him, about his fraternity, he promised he’d be with you both the whole day. “Lets get something to drink, loosen you both up a bit.”
He takes you both to where there are pledges handing out cans of seltzers and beer and snags you both white claws before they’re gone. He sticks to his word and hangs around the two of you no matter how many times his brothers come up to him and try to convince him to join in on a game of beer di or chicken in the lake. You start feeling bad for him, y/f/n too, you know you’re holding them back in a sense. You tell both of them you’re okay if they want to hang out with his friends once you spot a couple of other girls in your sorority.
The minutes feel like hours, while you’re having a fine time with your girl friends, you wish this party would end more than anything. Before you know it, y/f/n is screaming your name from the dock, waving you over. Once you get there she’s dragging you toward the lake, urging you to take off your top and shorts so you could play chicken with her and Draco. You immediately agree until you’re hit with the realization that you needed a fourth in order to play chicken.
Enter Fred Weasley. You’ve seen the twins around campus, everyone talks about them. Six foot something with fiery red hair and gorgeous bodies. You’ve seen their bare torsos on more saturday night snapchat stories than you can count. His baby blue swim hang low on his hips, putting his freckle littered chest and abdomen completely on display.
“Fred,” He says casually, reaching out his hand. “Most people call me Weasley, or Freddie.”
Your breath hitches, his hands are massive. You bite your lip to take his hand in yours, you’ve never actually shaken hands with any guy you’ve met at this school. You reply without meeting his burning gaze, “Y/n.”
All he says is a quiet ‘I know’ almost like you weren’t meant to hear it, before y/f/n is calling from Draco’s shoulders for the two of you to hurry up. Your stomach turns at the thought of being on top of his shoulders. This won’t be a fair fight, Draco isn’t even six foot and Fred is a giant.
You edge closer to the stairs of the dock, Fred just jumps right in. The water is cold, unsurprisingly. Everything in you is praying that the chill of the water cools the flush that is running across your cheeks. Fred dunks his whole body under the water and feels for your ankles to pull you over his shoulders. The grips his huge hands have on the tops of your thighs makes butterflies erupt in your stomach.
“You ready?” He asks once you’re steady on his shoulders. You can’t see his face but you wish you could. His messy, wet hair splayed across his forehead must be a sight to for sore eyes. “I’ve got you tight up there, just don’t tip.”
You tell him you’re good before he makes his way over the Draco with y/f/n on top of him. She’s shorter than you, at least half a foot which makes it easier for you to put your hands on her shoulders to gain control. You’re both laughing as you try and push the other over. You’re almost having too much fun to forget that you’re in a bikini on top of arguable the best looking boy in your year in front of a backyard of hundreds of drunk students. Usually you would be more insecure about your current situation, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Eventually y/f/n loses her balance and topples over, bringing Draco down with her. Fred shouts out in celebration once they emerge front the lake. In a swift motion, his slippery hands pull your body off his shoulders to stand in front of him. His hand absentmindedly goes to your waist as he continues to shout at Draco for ‘being such a loser.’
His smile is radiant. It makes you smile with him and laugh with y/f/n as she rings out her hair. For the rest of the day, Fred barely leaves your side, his hand continues to make its way to hold you close to him by your waist. The drunker you get the less you notice it, you actually sort of like it. Any time a drinking game arises, he immediately pulls you along with him. Beer pong, flip cup, rage cage, he’s always planted next to you as you drink the day away. You meet his twin and his other friends who give him a knowing look when they see you practically joined at the hip.
His friend Blaise can’t help but smile your way, a shit eating grin gracing his features. He whispers something in Fred’s ear which makes him laugh a little. His laugh is perfect, you wouldn’t need even alcohol, you could get completely drunk off his features. You like the beta boys, you can’t understand why you were ever scared of them in the first place. George and Oliver talk to you as if you’ve know them for years, chatting about your mutual friends and your hometowns. You feel comfortable with them, it makes you happy.
“S’getting late,” He says, he isn’t slurring but his wobbly stance gives off that he’s clearly drunk. As the sky turns all shades of orange, you realize just how much time you’ve spent with him. You haven’t seen Draco or y/f/n in a while, meaning their probably up in his room. “I’ll walk you home.”
“You don’t have to do that,” You protest, shaking your head but he stops you. His hand rests on the side of your neck, making you choke on your breath as you meet his eyes. His lazy smile makes your heart race.
“You’re very pretty, you know that?” He drunkenly stumbles over his words. Your heart is hammering against your rig cage, you feel weirdly sober now that he’s staring into your eyes. “Had class with you last semester, couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”
You continue to shake your head, wondering if this day had just been a wild dream and you were going to wake up in yours and y/f/n’s shared room in your pajamas any second. But his hand travelling up your side pulls you into the realization that this is reality.
“Can I kiss you?”
You don’t reply, you simply lift onto your toes to meet his lips with yours. If you were completely sober, you would never be so bold but everything in you was screaming for his touch. His lips are warm, a completely one-eighty from his cold hands against your skin. The party goes on around you but you feel like time stands still in Fred’s embrace. He pulls away from you for just a second to catch his breathe before leaning down to catch you in another kiss. His hand moves from your waist to the small of your back as the kiss deepens.
You eventually pull from each other, breathless, once you feel beer from various cups splash against your skin as a group of boys huddle next to you to sing out whatever song is playing at the moment. You both laugh as you lean your head against his bare chest, drinking in this moment.
“Come on then,” He says, taking your hand in his. Your head is spinning, not from the alcohol, but from the complete state of bliss you’re in. “I’ll grab you a shirt and get you home.”
You walk back to your house, hand in hand with his tee shirt hanging just above your knees, talking about everything under the sun. While the walk itself is short, the moment seems to last forever. When you each your front lawn, he tugs on your hand to pull you into him once more, feeling his soft lips meet yours. Your heart flutters as you walk toward your front door, turning back to him and he smiles at you, making your heart melt.
“Goodnight, Freddie.” You call out from the opened door. He gives you a small waves and tells you he’ll see you soon. Once the door is shut you close your eyes and can’t help but smile. You squeal, causing the girls in your living room to look out the window and see Fred Weasley with his fingers on his lips and a wide smile. They pull you onto the couch and beg you to tell them all about your day in the background of beta theta pi. You can’t contain your grin as you relay today’s events to your sorority sisters.
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: YALL my heart I am so overwhelmed by the love on part one! I didn’t really know how my ~transition~ into a multi-fandom account would be received and I am so happy you guys liked it! Literally only three of you commented that you wanted a part 2 but those three of you have my heart. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Without further adieu, here is part 2 (not gonna lie i gave myself butterflies writing this why am I so single ouch)
Now that Pansy is in on your little secret, it makes holding in your crush on a certain Gryffindor that much harder. However, confessing might just bring more harm to the already troubled boy.
y/l/n= your last name
Warning(s): cursing, feeling extremely lonely and single, ending is pure fluff
After that day in the library, you find yourself even more preoccupied in your thoughts of Neville Longbottom. It doesn’t make it any easier now that your roommate is aware of your soft spot for the boy, now that she constantly asks when you’ll be professing your love for him. Part of you thinks Pansy is so overjoyed about the news because she can be certain that with a crush like Neville, you’d never want anything to do with Malfoy, at least romantically.
You also find yourself much more nervous than you could have ever imagined. This is the only time you’ve ever doubted being sorted into Slytherin. A crush on arguably the most tormented boy in school yet still terrified to come out and say anything about it. While you were afraid of the possible rejection that could come from a girl like you telling such a timid boy that you’ve liked him for the past year, your heart aches at the thought of what your friends would do if they found out. Confessing your feelings would open up a world of trouble for the boy, one that you would be responsible for.
“Merlin, y/n, are you still contemplating whether or not to tell him?” Pansy asks as she busts into your dorm. Per her last outburst, it isn’t unusual for her to make big entrances. “I never thought I’d see the day where y/n y/l/n was afraid to tell a Gryffindor anything, especially that she had a crush on him. What happened to when you used to bully Potter when he got an answer wrong in potions?”
“That’s different and you know it, Pans!” You groan, throwing a pillow from your bed and toward her. Bullying Potter and making snide remarks toward Granger was different than this. You never really cared for that trio, but you do care for Neville. The thought of him feeling so uncomfortable with you that he would just remove himself from your life altogether was too much for your newly sappy heart to bear. “Can’t I just go on pretending I don’t like the boy?”
Pansy rolls her eyes, her answer obviously being no. She doesn’t understand. For her to tell Malfoy that she’s interested in him wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, you practically spend every waking moment with Malfoy, you spend no time with Neville outside the library and herbology. To just bring up your previous pining for him would be overwhelming to say the least. Not to mention it would spread like wildfire, the only reason Pansy has kept her mouth shut for this long is because she doesn’t want to ruin the romantic novel she’s created in her head about how this will work out.
“Obviously you cannot pretend you don’t like him you absolute idiot.” She scolds you, a hint of laughter in her voice. “I’ll go straight to the gargoyles and tell them right now if you don’t decide to tell the boy by tomorrow.”
By gargoyles, she meant Crabbe and Goyle, a nickname you two came up for them a few years ago. The two were known to bully poor Neville, it would be worse than telling Draco or Blaise directly.
“Pansy!” You shout, moaning over the unfairness. As much as you wish she was bluffing, you know Pansy too well to underestimate her need to get what she wants. “Fine, tell me how you would do it.”
A smile creeps on her face, knowing she had won this fight. She begins to relay exactly what she’s been dreaming of since you told her about your secret crush. Pansy revels in your imaginary relationship, knowing she’ll never get this type of affectionate and epic confession of feelings from Malfoy. She tells you to grab him tomorrow after dinner, catching him off guard but most likely in a good mood because, as she says, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Take him all the way down to the greenhouse so you won’t be interrupted and plant a big, fat, wet kiss on him. You roll your eyes at that last part, never imagining being so bold in a moment like that. While you didn’t necessarily want to tell him the very next day, knowing full well you needed weeks to prepare for this, you also didn’t want to play with the possibility of Crabbe and Goyle beating the absolute piss out of Longbottom when Pansy tells them.
You spend the whole next day with your mind racing, nervously fidgeting with your hands and robes. Pansy notices your unrest and knows you’re actually going through with this. You can hardly pay attention in your favorite class, so worked up over the thought of Neville’s face when you tell him, also wishing you two took potions together so you could have some idea if his feelings toward you based on his amortentia. But alas, all you could smell was plants, flowers, and a woman’s perfume, knowing it was him, without a clue of what the boy would smell in the love potion.
Just as you walk to dinner, walking with your usual crew of Pansy, Malfoy, Blaise, Theo and the gargoyles, your eyes meet the boy who makes your heart leap out of your chest. You can’t help but smile at him, wearing his little sweater and all. How he ended up being your type will never make sense to you. Just as he smiles back at you, making your heart melt, Crabbe and Goyle knock into either side of him making him stumble.
“What’s so funny Longbottom?” One of them taunts, to be honest, half the time you can’t tell their voices apart.
“Knock it off!” You snap at the two before they’re able to harass the boy any further, smacking them both on the backs of their heads. As the two wince you turn around to look at Neville to mouth a Sorry. He just gives you a weak smile before turning in to make his way to Gryffindor table. Your heart sinks, he’ll never like you while you’re associated with such idiots. Pansy nudges your shoulder, giving you a concerned look and you simply shake your head at her, not wanting to get into it.
You spend most of dinner gazing toward the Gryffindors, careful not to get caught making eyes at the dark haired boy. Even the way he simply enjoyed a meal was entrancing to you. How he laughed with his friends, what he looked like to listen intently, then proceed to go off on a tangent of whatever his heart desired. Your heart ached for him, and as much as you wanted to protect him from the, at times, horrible boys sitting next to you, you needed to be selfish. You needed to at least give yourself the chance to be happy with someone like Neville. If all goes to shit, you can always go back to Zabini to get your mind off any sort of rejection you’re about to face.
As dinner comes to an end, you grab Pansy’s hand and squeeze it tight, letting her know it was time. She gives you a reassuring smile before pressing her lips to the back of your hand and whispering a good luck. You rush past your friends, ignoring their questions of where you were off to. You’re able to catch up with the pack of Gryffindors walking toward their common room, tapping the man of the hour on his shoulder, having to get on the tops of your toes to do so. He turns around, confused before recognizing your face.
“Can I speak with you?” You ask. It comes out more timid than you expect, making you want to crawl into a hole and hide for the next year. He stops to fully turn toward you, his friends stopping beside him, looking at you odd. “Sorry, I meant just you.”
“Oh, sure.” He replies, just as nervous around you as always. His friends give him the same look they gave you, but he just nods for them to go ahead without him. “What did you want to talk about?”
You look around you, scared your housemates would see you had pulled Neville aside and create chaos around you. “Not here.” You say, grabbing his hand in yours to pull him away from the crowd of students leaving from the great hall. Your hand burns against his, affected by even the slightest touch from him. As you walk further from the crowd and outside in the cold evening air, your heart begins to pound in your chest. You pull him into the courtyard, bringing back memories of when Draco was turned into a ferret in this very spot, and finally take a seat under the large tree.
He sits across from you, you drop his hand and immediately go to toy with the edge of your skirt. You pull your bottom lips between your teeth and finally meet his gaze, a look of confusion and slight fear gracing his features. “I’m confused, y/n.” He begins, looking away from you for a moment. “Should I be worried.”
“No!” You immediately reply, pulling his attention back to you following your overly enthusiastic answer. The more you think about, he might have to be worried, what with your friends and all. “Well, maybe a little, but not at the moment.”
“You really have a way of saying things without really saying anything.” He muses, rubbing his hands together. Merlin, he’s probably cold. He’ll never be able to reciprocate your feelings in such conditions. “Why’d you bring me outside, y/n?”
You take a deep breath, knowing this is your one shot to tell the boy how you feel before he comes to the conclusion that you’re the weirdo that pulled him outside when the sun had already set to tell him absolutely nothing. “I have to tell you something-”
“I know,” He interrupts. “You said that.”
“Would you let me finish!” You shout, not meaning for it to come off so harsh, but it shuts him up. “Look, Neville. I’ve been thinking about telling you this for a long time, but I could never quite find the courage.”
You take a long pause. He doesn’t dare interrupt you again, just looks at you with anticipation of what information you’ve been keeping from him. You begin playing with your uniform again, searching for any distraction from what you’re about to say. “I never thought I could feel like way about someone, honest. I’ve had these kinds of feelings toward other people, but never like this, you know?”
You look to him again, your words obviously not resonating with him as he’s kept the same expression since you dragged him outside. “I guess what I’m trying to say is something in me sort of lights up when you’re around. I’ve become addicted to the way you look at me and the way you say my name. My heart skips a beat whenever you smile at me or when you give me that nice look you give when I figure something out while you’re tutoring me. I know this may come as a shock since we don’t talk very much outside of class and tutoring, but I guess that just goes to show the impact you’ve had on me.”
He stays quiet, which only makes you more nervous. If he liked you back surely he would be leaping for joy right now. Instead, he shakes his head before breaking the deafening silence, “This isn’t funny, y/n. You can tell Malfoy or Crabbe or Goyle to come out now, make fun of me like they always do.”
Your heart sinks, of course he would think you’re playing some cruel and heartless trick on him, just for him to be humiliated by the boys you surround yourself with. He looks so upset, so broken. You reach out to grab his hand but he pulls it away.
“This isn’t a joke, Neville. They don’t know I’m here.” You tell him in a soft voice, but you know it’s no use, you’re too deeply associated with such hatred. Theres only one more thing you could possible think of to convince him of your feelings. “I smelled you in my amortentia, I swear I did. Plants, flowers and a woman’s perfume, it smelled sweet like maybe of roses and vanilla. I know you probably don’t believe me, I understand that you don’t, but Neville I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
It’s quiet again, you can hear your heart racing, accepting the impending rejection thats only moments away. You close your eyes to keep any sort of tears in when you feel his hand grasp yours. “You smelled my Mum’s perfume.”
Is all he says. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, confused by his words. He speaks up again. “I don’t understand, y/n. All I’ve ever been to you is a means to pass herbology, how could you possibly smell me in your amortentia? You just described my mother’s perfume, I’ve never told anyone what that smells like.”
“Because that’s not all you’ve been to me.” You reply, not letting go of his hand, the same burning feeling accompanying his touch. “At the beginning, yes, you were my only way to pass. But as time went on, I found myself so drawn to you, hanging on your every word about your beloved plants. When you saw Pansy and I staring at you in the library the other day that was because I had just told her I liked you, as more than just someone to help me pass.”
You can almost see the gears turning in his mind as everything begins to fall into place for him. You become painfully aware that he has yet to make any sort of statement about you one way or another, giving you absolutely nothing to expect when it comes to what he’ll say next. “I don’t understand how someone like you could like someone like me.”
“Someone like you?” You ask, partly hurt by his words. “Neville, if you’re wondering how I could like someone thats kind, considerate, passionate, funny and handsome, I’m not really sure how to explain that to you if you don’t already understand.”
Even in the darkness, the two of you only lit by the faint light of the moon, you can see his cheeks go red, which makes you smile. Almost everything he does makes you smile, you couldn’t imagine another person making you feel this way.
“Y/n, you don’t know how long I’ve dreamt of hearing anything like that come out of your mouth.” He confesses quietly, almost whispering. He begins to run his thumb over your knuckles, your heart fluttering with his actions. “I thought you were to most beautiful girl in this world the moment I laid eyes on you in first year, I still do. When Professor Sprout came to me and told me you needed help with herbology, I swore Godric was doing me a favor, only some form of miracle could have let me be around you so often. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why an angel like you could somehow feel the same way about me as I do you, but I trust you, y/n. I don’t trust a lot of people.”
Your heart is pounding, finally hearing the words your mind has been begging to hear for months. His his hand still in yours, you shift forward on your knees to inch your face closer to his. He doesn’t back away, he doesn’t protest, he simply takes his hand that isn’t interlocked with yours and brings it to your cheek. You breath hitches in your throat as your foreheads press together, not daring to look into his green eyes, fearing you’ll fumble over your next actions. Without a second thought, you dip your head down to catch his lips in yours. His hand moves further back into your hair as the other stays intertwined with yours, planted on his lap. You half expected him to sit still as your lips moved against him, but they move together in sync like they were always meant to meet. After a short while you pull away, trying to catch your breath. With your foreheads still touching, you can feel his staggered breath against yours. Slowly you sit back on your heels again, unclasping your hand from his. You stand in your spot and lean down to press your lips to his forehead, then lift his chin to place a soft kiss against his lips.
“Goodnight, Neville.” You say quietly after you pull your lips away from his again, unable to contain your smile. “See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow.” He repeats. He doesn’t follow you out of the courtyard, he stays in his seated position, leaning on his hands behind him. Once you’re out of earshot he looks up to the stars to say, “Whoever just made that happen, thank you.”
You float back to the dungeon, not even feeling the usual cold air of the common room. When you open your dorm door, Pansy immediately shoots up from her bed to catch a glimpse of the moony look on your face.
“Y/n?” She calls, making you slowly turn your head to look at her. “Tell me what happened.”
You walk toward her bed, taking a seat next to her before laying back to stare at the ceiling, the smile never fading from your face. You bring your fingers up to touch your lips, still feeling his on yours. “I kissed him.”
Pansy squeals, laying back next to you and nudging and poking you in every which way, making you giggled next to her. Living this moment in pure bliss. “Well what did he say?”
“It doesn’t even matter,” You reply, wanting to keep that moment you spent with Neville sacred between the two of you. “He likes me too.”
You don’t sleep that night, spending the next hours gushing to your roommate about his smile and the shape of his lips against yours and the feeling of your fingers intertwined. You both have early classes the next morning but you didn’t care, you’re completely and perfectly content.
warnings:injury - but it’s not descriptive, confident!reader (just in case we have some shy bean readers lmao)
a/n:You’re a Gryffindor for the sake of this fic, but there’s a choice for which house you were against in the match, hope that’s okay!! :)
“Hey, Harry.” You stand behind your teammate, waiting for a reply.
Harry turns slightly to look up at you. He swallows a mouthful of pudding before responding. “Uh- hello… Y/N.”
You smile, then point to his sling. “You alright?”
Harry looks like a malfunctioning robot as he looks down at his arm, up at you, then at his arm again. “I’m… uh, fine. Are you?”
You glance down at your bandaged knee. Harry looks too, but when your eyes land on him, he pretends to look at his plate instead.
“I’m great. I’m used to taking beatings out there. I always seem to be a target for the *opposite house choice*’s. Anyway, you got it worse, Potter.”
“Eh…” Harry shrugs. “I’ll be fine in a few days.”
You nod. “Hopefully. Good game, though, right?”
“Yeah.. you- you were great.”
“But was I the one who caught the snitch?” You grin and then reach into your pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “Here. You’ve been avoiding me lately, Harry. So, we’re going to meet up later, yeah?”
Harry stutters. “Sorry- yeah, I- um… okay.”
“Okay?”
Harry nods. You laugh and then bend down to plant a kiss on his unharmed cheek. “See you later.” You have a slight limp as you walk away, smirking.
-
-
Meet me by the owlery
5 pm
Y/N xo
Taglist: (lmk if you want to be tagged in any of my fics, I’ll be making a new taglist form soon!!) @jiaraendgame
