Candy Bar [George Weasley]

Pairing: George Weasley [HP] x reader [any house]

Summary:George always knew [y/n] was going to end up being part of his family, he just never wondered how.

Warnings: sexual insinuation, but nothing too explicit.

a/n:this ends a little bit sad, but open, so I might write a part 2 (no promises though).

harry potter universe masterlist

George Weasley was part of a selected big group of friends, with its honorary members being Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and his little brother Ron.

The lads weren’t official members because of the age gap — it was rare the moments where they could hang mid-classes. But it didn’t bother Fred, Lee and Angelina to have the little guys around.

There was another girl too, who George saw as much more of an official member than an honorary one. [y/n] [y/ln] was younger than him but older than his little brother — she was from the year between the two. They became friends entirely by accident — she got caught up on a prank not intended for her and after a not-so-much friendly match of Quidditch where she played gracefully and not at all vengeful, the twins talked her into being part of the friend group.

One could’ve said [y/n] was the one most outof the group, but, surprisingly, she managed well around them. She became very close to Angelina, and she had openly called Fred her very best mate once. Even when Potter was around, she never acted as a “fangirl” — and she noticeably picked Ron over Harry tons of times.

They were all together one afternoon, playing card games in the grass by the Lake when Fred had an idea: steal food from the house-elves.

[y/n] was immediately into it. “We have to be quick then because it’s almost supper time, and they’ll be all up to our arses if they catch us by that time,” she said, getting up and leaving her deck of cards to Angelina to handle.

Ron got up quickly too, ready to follow the girl wherever she went. Fred just smile. “Anyone else for our road trip?” asked the older twin.

“It’s hardly a road trip,” opined Angelina, before winning against Hermione and starting the game again.

Since no one else got up, the three left. George and Lee drew closer to the two girls left, anxious to see if Hermione could beat Angelina, but chances were the Quidditch player was going to win again.

“Has anyone noticed Ron’s fancying [y/n]?” asked Hermione, who had smelled it in the air, way before anyone else, but she just wanted to be sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks.

Lee snorted at the question, trying not to shame-laugh. He hadn’t only noticed Ron’s crush — he noticed Hermione’s too. Angelina simply smiled and kept playing the card game, but George spoke up.

“I dunno how it ends, but [y/n] will for sure be part of my fam,” he said, laughing it off.

“How so?” asked Hermione, tensing up a bit, which allowed Angelina some advantage in the game.

“Well, Ron fancies her; she fancies Fred and Fred…. well, I reckon that bloke hasn’t pashed anyone, that’s for sure,” George replied. “Either Fred falls for her or she falls for Ron, but she’ll end up a Weasley, alright.”

Lee elbowed the redheaded.

“She’ll end up your sister,” he laughed.

“In-law,” added George, suddenly wanting to make sure [y/n] was not blood-related to him.

Angelina and Lee exchanged knowing looks, but Hermione and George were oblivious to the exchange. George was inside his wee world, thinking why it bothered him to acknowledge [y/n] as a sister, and Hermione was wishful thinking that Fred could bloody well fancy [y/n] right away.

The match went on, with Angelina winning that turn and then Lee taking Hermione’s place and losing too — the difference was Lee didn’t care and laughed his loss away. George wanted to play too, but when his turn finally came, Fred, Ron and [y/n] arrived with the stolen food.

“Hey, I wanna go back to my match,” said [y/n], sitting down next to Angelina, who remained unbeatable. “Who’s the winner?”

“Who would you reckon?” replied Lee, smiling. [y/n] liked his smirk, it felt sparkling in the twilight.

“Angie,” [y/n] smiled too as she spoke.

“No worries — I’ve been playing non-stop and George hasn’t had his turn,” Angelina said, moving away from the card pile. “Take my place,” offered the Quidditch chaser.

[y/n] took the offer, and looked straight at George. He had a playful smile, which only increased when he reached the pile and started shuffling the cards for the new game.

In the background, George heard Ron asking Hermione if Harry showed up, and the bookworm replied with a “no”. The younger twin wasn’t facing Ron, but he could visualize the frown on his face. Harry Potter was chosen to be a Triwizard champion, which meant he was generally never free and around — but also, his friendship with Ron was a bit rocky at the moment.

George reverted his focus on [y/n].

“Get ready to eat grass, Weasley,” the girl said.

“We’ll see,” responded George, feeling his grin widen.

[y/n] was late, which meant Fred and George were late too. They planned a quick trip to Hogsmeade, but they were going “illegally” and if [y/n] took a minute longer to get ready, Fred swore he was gonna leave her behind.

“I’m here!” she whispered and shouted, at the same time. George wondered how she managed that.

“You’re late,” the younger twin said, messing with her.

“Just five minutes,” she pointed out, checking her wristwatch.

“Could well mean the difference between getting caught,” George continued.

“Stop, you two,” said Fred, but he knew very well all the bickering came from his twin. George hadn’t found his way around flirting women, and it showed — Fred knew he had to do something about it, but it’d need to be later. At the moment, he only sought to get to Hogsmeade.

“She started it,” said George, defending himself.

“How could I?” she inquired, startled.

“By showing up late,” he answered, frowning his brows.

Fred rolled his eyes and decided not to meddle. They could figure it out for themselves. The older twin, then, took the front of the little voyage group and led them to the secret passageway. The trio went through that one-eyed old crone’s hump, and soon they were in the dark corridor that would lead them away from Hogwarts.

Fred and George had to lean their backs, so they wouldn’t smack their heads, but [y/n] could go most of the way just fine and stretch. She had been there three times before, but it was never easy being in that dim and smelly place.

She didn’t even notice when she edged nearer George Weasley until he offered her his arm. Furthermore, she looked at it, suspiciously, before accepting.

They had a complicated relationship. They were always quarrelling, like too foolish kids that couldn’t possibly like the opposite gender. It was always stupid, but [y/n] couldn’t avoid it — it seemed so nice to bicker with George because then he would look at her sideways and provocatively grin and that usually made her smile too.

She had a thing for Fred from the first moment she learned his name. It had been some girl in her class had been ranking the most handsome blokes of Hogwarts, and when [y/n] asked who was Fred Weasley and why he was in twenty-second place, her classmate smiled and asked: “Why? Do you think he should be higher up?”. [y/n] didn’t think that, of course. At eleven years of age, she barely thought of boys that way, especially the ones one year older, who seemed so much more mature back then. But later she was engrossed in one of the twins’ pranks, and Fred presented himself.

Tall, even for a twelve-year-old, and with beautiful freckles in his cheeks — [y/n] didn’t need much more thinking; she knew she had become a woman, and she was ready to have that man.

They became friends later on, and even though [y/n] never made advances towards Fred, she never tried to stop fancying him either. It just felt natural to have a crush, a since Fred was right there and available, she took him.

Of course, she went out with other boys, specifically last year when she had just turned fourteen, but it never felt quite right. Not even as right as studying with Hermione, not as right as relying on Ronald, and definitelynot as right as bickering with George.

It felt nicer to argue with George than to kiss Oliver Wood! she remembered, in a sudden thought in the middle of the ill-lit hallway. Her expression changed, worrying George, but since she stayed in silence, he did the same.

Oliver had been [y/n]’s first kiss, and even though he was very gentle and kind — even nowadays — the only thing he taught her was that she was better off single.

“We’re almost there, I reckon,” said Fred, having to rely on his memory to keep marshalling. He didn’t regret having given Harry his map, but sometimes, he felt nostalgic for it.

The passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. [y/n] and George followed just behind, still with their arms intertwined. George didn’t want to think what that gesture possibly meant, and he didn’t have to — they had ended up right into the cellar of Honeydukes.

“This passage remains safe, thank Merlin,” Fred thought out loud, which made [y/n] repress a laugh. She then remembered to let go of George’s arm, since she was back in the light, but her arms felt empty without his there.

They didn’t longer around Honeydukes — their plan was to go to the joke shop and get new supplies, and thenceforth go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks. The candy store was barely empty, so their exit had to be a bit theatrical so no one would suspect a thing.

Zonko’s shop called the boys’ attention as soon as the three of them stepped outside Honeydukes, and [y/n] had to hush to follow them. The store was striking, the girl had to give in. Its walls, covered with shelves, loaded not only with Dungbombs and Hiccough Sweets, but also Frog Spawn Soap, Sugar Quills, and Nose-Biting Teacups. No wonder the boys loved to shop there.

“So, Fred, what’s it that you guys are looking for to stock?” [y/n] leaning against the shelf that Fred was so meticulously observing.

The red-headed looked down at her for only a second and smiled.

“A bit of everything, I suppose,” he replied.

George appeared from behind [y/n] and the shelf, scaring her with a nudge. She, at least, managed not to scream. It wasn’t late yet, only twilight, but the stored seemed umbra, which gave the toys up on the shelves a different glow. Macabre, [y/n] determined.

“Never, ever, do that again, do you understand?” she threatened George, but the twin only giggled.

“Come with me, [y/l/n],” said George, eyeing the back of the corridor he was in. “You’re gonna like this.”

Fred tried really hard not to smile at his twin taking an initiative, while [y/n] followed.

George waited until [y/n] was right next to him and offered his arm again. There was really no official reason for it — even though it was starting to be dusk outside, the shop still had light enough for the girl not to feel scared, but he liked being of use.

[y/n] accepted his arm with biting of lips, suddenly feeling very nervous with the interaction. Could she like George? She wondered, innocently. He was a nice lad, for sure. He was also a tiny bit taller than Fred, and she did like tallboys. But he’s very annoying, she reminded herself. He’s always teasing you in a non-lovable way.

“Do you know Ronniekins has a devotion for you?”

George plumped the question, smirking in taunting.

“Ronniekins?Ron?” she asked, stunned.

[y/n] didn’t even bother with George’s smile. She cared for Ron, a lot since she confided in him most of the time, but if the lad was messing things up… she would need to take a stand, and she wouldn’t like it.

“Yep,” affirmed George. “He developed some sort of crush on you; I can’t speak anything in your concern without being scolded.”

“That’s nice of him,” she tried to smile, attempting to make the best out of the situation, but she just couldn’t. “Oh… But if he really does fancy me… I’ll have to say something, right? I don’t wanna lead him on.”

“To be honest, I think even if you actually stare him down and say: ‘Ronald Weasley, I do not fancy you and I don’t want to kiss you’, he will still hold on to hope,” George told her, pressing his arm against her harder. He wanted to comfort her, and he didn’t even fully comprehend why.

[y/n] was an enjoyable lassie and, even though he messed with her all the time, he liked to be around her. But did he like likebeing around her? Oh, Merlin… He couldn’t. His younger brother loved her, his older brother was the object of her affection. He did not want or wish to be in the middle of it. As a matter of fact, he liked to mock the situation from the outside. She’s a future sister-in-law, he told himself, but it felt wrong in his mind. She’s part of the family, he pondered again, and that phrase felt easier, which was a relief.

The girl in question watched George’s expression, as it tensed and relaxed, and she wondered if he was worried about his little brother. That’s sweet of him, she thought.

They finally stopped in front of a shelf filled with candy bars, but George remained silent and did not explain why they stopped there.

“George?” she called his attention. “What do you think I should do?”

His eyes stared down at her, thoughtfully. He truly wanted to help her, even if it meant walking her down the aisle to his twin.

“Well, you don’t fancy him, do you? I reckon it’s another brother of mine you have your eyes on,” he said, out loud this time. For some reason, he felt like he needed to know. He needed to know if she still had a thing for Fred. Or even for Ron, if the tables had turned.

[y/n] avoided George’s eyes. How could he have found out about her wee crush on Fred? She sure wasn’t being self-evident, was she?

But even so, if she were obvious, what was she supposed to answer? She most definitely was not going to confess, especially because her feelings have been shifting a lot. Fred was her best mate. Yeah, she knew they would match just fine if it were Fred to ask her out, but did she want it? Did she yearnto be Fred’s companion?

“I don’t fancy Ron, obviously,” she answered, finally, after a while pondering how to phrase her feelings. “And I don’t know what you mean about brothers of yours.”

George snorted. “Okay then.”

He decided it was for the best if he just remained quiet and did not bother her about it any longer. She didn’t want to answer, and, honestly, he didn’t wanna hear it. So he faced the shelf he had directed her towards and picked one of the candy bars.

She breathed a sigh of relief that he had dropped the previous matter, and asked: “I didn’t know Zonko’s shop sold candy.”

“Not any proper candy,” he replied. “This is a special one.”

“Really? How so?”

George gave her the candy bar, so she could analyse it, but, as he very well knew, there was nothing in its packaging that revealed its true content.

“They provoke emotions, different ones, but always strong ones,” George explained, taking back the bar from her hands. “This one, for instance, is for decisive moments. See here?” he pointed to a very small font where it could be read: “you want the courage to do what you most long to? This is for you!”

“Why would someone eat something like this?”

“Various reasons,” George shrugged before taking another candy bar from the rack. “This one is for knowledge. Suppose you have a test tomorrow — this could be your salvation.”

[y/n] took the second bar from his hands and analysed it herself. “Only if I know the test’s subjects beforehand, you mean,” she said, returning him the candy bar. “If you haven’t studied, this won’t be much help.”

“It will be somehelp,” said George.

“Right,” [y/n] snorted.

“Anyway, it’s practically not much of use nowadays. Professor Snape found a way to perceive it in your organism with a special potion,” he explained, but he didn’t place the bar back in its place. He held still the two candy bars and led [y/n] to the cashier.

“You know you’re buying the courage one, right?” she whispered in his ear before Fred could reach them in the cashier line.

George smiled.

“You are the one buying it,” he corrected her. “After all, you’ll need it to talk to Ron.”

[y/n] let out some air from her throat, completely frustrated. She knew she didn’t fancy Ron, at least, so she should talk to him. Perhaps the candy bar was going to be of some use.

“What are you two buying?” asked Fred, having absolutely no free space in his arms. He had a bit of everything — Dungbombs, Frog Spawn Soap, Nose-Biting Teacups and more that [y/n] wasn’t able to name.

“Magic Bars,” the girl answered, looking up to meet Fred’s eyes. It was only then she realized she still held George’s arm, so she instantly let it go — but not before Fred couldn’t notice.

“Oh, so you can be brave enough to break up with Ronniekins?” asked Fred, smirking.

The girl looked shocked. “Oh, come on! Everyone knew?”

The twins only laugh it out.

Knowing that Ron was going to arrive at any moment at the Three Broomsticks with the rest of the gang, [y/n] popped the candy bar and ate it all at once, only stopping for a sip of butterbeer to make it all easier to let out. George watched, surprised, but offered his own comment: “I don’t think you needed to have eaten it all.”

She sniffed. “Could have informed me that earlier, couldn’t you?”

Fred just smirked, amused with the scenario. He took the opportunity to corner his twin when going to get more butterbeers at the counter, leaving [y/n] alone on the table.

“So… now that she’s breaking up with Ron, when are you gonna tell her you fancy her?”

George’s eyes widened, staring at his twin with disbelief.

“What? You’re gonna pretend you don’t like the lass?”

“[y/n]’s a friend,” George answered, sharply.

“Right…”

They ordered the butterbeers and waited, avoiding staring at each other. Fred didn’t want to keep laughing at his twin, and George didn’t want to confess something he wasn’t entirely sure.

Could he fancy [y/n]? No, he answered mentally. She fancied Fred, and he always promised not to come between his twin’s girls. Because, if ever [y/n] decided to hit on Fred, he knew his twin wasn’t going to be able to resist. She was just like that, and she never even noticed — if she wanted a guy, she’d have him. And the day she’d claim Fred would come, and George would be left to watch the two love birds.

“Seriously, now,” started Fred, handing the butterbeers, “why don’t to come clean with her?”

George sighed. “I have nothing to clean. Do I like her? Yes. Do I think she’s pretty? Yep. But we’re better off as mates, or better saying, bickering mates,” answered him, finally.

Fred decided to say nothing more. George would eventually realize on his own that he like [y/n] and, when that day arrived, Fred could finally beam saying “told you so”.

They sat back at their places, noticing the small crowd on their table. Ron, Hermione, Angelina, Lee and (the big surprise of the night) Harry Potter had arrived, and they were talking jubilantly about the upcoming ball they had been hearing whispers about.

George sat between [y/n] and Ron purposefully, and [y/n] sighed in relief while staring at George.

“Hasn’t it had any effect yet?” asked George, referring to the candy. [y/n] just shook her head. “It will happen soon.”

She wished he was right.

The two of them got caught up on the table talk, adding their own remarks and desires for the party. [y/n] didn’t add much too aloud, though — she was afraid Ron could say something about them going together.

Suddenly, she felt a kick inside her. The candy bar! she thought, anxiously. She stared at Ron from behind George and gesture for them to go out. She needed to say it, once and for all.

George watched as the two of them left, but he didn’t make a comment.

“So much for [y/n] marrying Fred…” Lee said aloud.

“Me?” asked Fred, confused and frowning. Lee laughed and Angelina tried to ease Fred, mostly for [y/n]’s sake, then for the red haired’s.

George kept staring at the door as if wishing the conversation ran out faster if he did so. Lee nudged George.

“Is she kissing him?”

“Ew, no,” George replied. “She wanted to talk him outof his feelings,” he continued. “She even ingested one of the Magic Bars for courage.”

“Those are never a good idea,” said Hermione, meddling.

“Why?” asked Lee, genuinely curious. He often liked those candy bars.

“Well, it gives you the kicks to do what you most long for. Not necessarily a good thing if what you most long for is to kill someone, for instance,” she explained. Hermione, then, shrugged, knowing [y/n] was not about to kill Ron, but suggesting that what she most longed for might not be “end things” with Ron.

George pondered Hermione’s words. What could be the thing [y/n] most ached for, and could the magical candy bar really help?

He had no more time to think as the door from the Three Broomsticks opened once again, but only Ron came in. He had some of a tired look on his face, and that worried George. Not for his younger brother, but for [y/n].

George got up and left, leaving a confused Lee behind. Angelina and Fred exchanged looks before smirking — both sharing a secret of what had happened.

“Never again make me ingest one of those bars, are you hearing me?” [y/n] said as soon as she faced George, in on dark space between Three Broomstick and the next store next to it.

“What happened?” George asked, stupefied.

“Nothing, of course, and how could it? With Ron?” she laughed it off. “I just told him something about him being the little brother I never had and how I saw him grow up so fast. He understood the message.”

George waited, but she said nothing more. “So, what’s the matter?”

“I want to be touched, Georgie!” she exclaimed, surprising herself. She covered her mouth, a little too late, but it was the least she could. Had she really told George she wanted to be touched? Had he understood the length of her words?

George froze, giving [y/n] the time to gather her thoughts. He looked very handsome in the half-light coming from the establishment next door, and [y/n] enumerated how many freckles he had on his face. There were more than Fred’s, and George’s were more intensely gathered on his nose. The twin noted the girl’s fierce inspection and cleared his throat.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone almost gruff as he felt completely exposed in the dim light of the Hogsmeade night.

“I’m counting your freckles,” she replied truthfully. It wasn’t the candy effect — she really wanted to be honest, because that was how she was around George. [y/n] never thought before talking when she was with the younger Weasley twin, unlike when she was around Fred or even Oliver Wood.

“Why?” George questioned in a whisper. It was like he was afraid to speak.

“Because…” [y/n] didn’t have a “why”. She wanted to, so she counted. She wanted to come closer to him, so she did. Moreover, she longed for his touch, and that terrified her. “I wanna kiss you.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, but it felt very loud in both of their ears.

What? George wanted to ask, but he wasn’t able to mould a coherent phrase. Instead, he leaned closer. If she wanted to kiss him, he would let her. He had thought it before: the man she desired, she would get.

“George?” she asked, forcing him to open his eyes once again. “I won’t kiss you unless you say you want to kiss me too.”

“I thought you were desperate to be touched,” George played, smirking a little.

“Desperate? I didn’t say that” [y/n] smiled too.

“Kiss me, [y/n],” he said, the smirk disappearing.

She took one last deep breath and pressed her lips against his. It felt sweet at first, but then it was something different, something [y/n] could not find words to describe, perhaps spicy could be a great word, but it wouldn’t delineate it completely. There was more, always more, and when [y/n] opened her mouth waiting for his advance, she was impressed to feel him eager.

Their kiss deepened, it became something of its own, essentially when George’s arms took her whole body in, tugging, hugging, caressing her. She did the same with her hands, searching for his red curls, and pulling him in by the neck.

“George, touch me,” [y/n] yearned.

“I… I…” George couldn’t find the words, neither to say yes nor no.

He kept pulling her, closer and closer, but it wasn’t enough. He finally understood her, understood what she longed for because he longed for the same. To touch her, on her very core. But he couldn’t.

“We shouldn’t, [y/n],” he said, sorrowfully. “I shouldn’t.”

“Fine,” she whispered, leaning over his ear. “But I should.”

Her hands left his neck and wandered towards his trousers, finding the confirmation of his deepest desires. Oh, he hankered to touch her, too. He only lacked what the candy bar gave [y/n]: fearlessness.

He held her hand before she pressed him even tighter.

“Are you sure of what you’re doing?” he asked. “You’re probably intoxicated.”

“Intoxicated?” she stepped back. He didn’t trust her. He didn’t believe her. “Why? Because I would rather be with Fred, you reckon? Oh, yeah, you know so much about me!”

She took more steps away from him, and looked back, finding him with a disturbed expression on his face.

“If I wanted to be with Fred, I would’ve found a way to drag him here,” she said, confidently but also angry. “But it was you who came to me, and yes, I might’ve been the one to kiss you, but only because you told me to.”

“[y/n]! I… I just don’t think you wanted to… in the middle of Hogsmeade,” he shouted back, feeling the first raindrop fall over his nose. “Because don’t turn this on me! I’ll allow you to touch me anywhere you’d like, any day, even! You longed to be touched, but I’ve been longing to be touched by you!”

His words weren’t only an astonishment to her, but to him too. George didn’t know he had been thinking about her that way until she touched him — until he felt the taste of her lips.

[y/n] made a quick decision: she left. She turned her back, feeling raindrops start to fall all over her, but she didn’t bother and kept walking away, towards Honeydukes.

George watched as she went, and he was frozen, even in the rain. It was Fred who found him, all soaked.

“What happened?” Fred asked, but his twin did not answer. “I knew I should have taught you better how to hit on girls.”

George, paralysed, only moved his lips. “She left me,” he finally said. “In the rain, all alone.”

Fred breathed. “Let’s go back to Hogwarts; she’s not going to get back here.”

George followed, but he remained emotionless.