The Closet- Fred Weasley x Reader

Enjoy!! Does include some serious smut at the bottom!!

A smile rested upon your cheeks as you watched from afar. More so watching the one and only Fred Weasley as he was trying some of his new puking pastilles on the 1ST years. Watching as their faces twisted in disgust, and the laughter that flowed from Fred.

You were brought back to reality by a swift hand brushing your shoulder, you softly groaned as you turned away.

“Too busy watching lover boy?” your best friend Meg smirked as she watched the blush wash over your pale face.

You couldn’t find the words to try and excuse yourself from the embarrassment of watching the boy you have had a crush on for what seems like forever.

“You-uh-uh oh shush” you stuttered, only causing a bellowing laugh from your best friend as she took the seat next to you. You just gave her a small smile, clearly still embarrassed that she had caught you looking once again.

“Maybe you could start with hello…. instead of watching him from across the room.” She said softly as she watched you slowly turn your attention back to Fred and the smile that lit up his face.

“Hello? He wouldn’t even know who I was if I tried.” You said the defeat clearly lacing your tone as your smile slowly fell from your face.

Your best friend’s smile fell as she saw the defeat clear upon your features, “How could he not know the smartest witch in his year? If he doesn’t clearly, he’s dumber than I thought” she said bluntly, an echoing laugh coming from you.

“You do know that I can’t even say two words to him, correct? Who would be interested in that?” You murmured, carefully pushing your glasses farther onto your face. Sadness laced your tone. You knew that Fred would never be interesting in you. He wouldn’t even bat an eye in your direction. You were like the Hermione Granger of Slytherin. And as your mother would say… “No one likes a know it all.”

Your best friend sighed; she knew where you mind went- “Then maybe he is just dumb” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. A giggle erupted from your throat, catching her off guard.

The both of you fell into a fit of giggles, unable to control the laughter than echoed through the hall. It felt like it was only the two of you, and her comment was the funniest thing in the world.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, as your giggles echoed through the hall you had caught the attention of a certain red head.

He watched on from across the Great Hall- watching as you tried to catch your breath from the laughter that rocked your chest. He could just barely make out the tears running down your face from the utter amusement.

He only wondered what was so funny. He continued to look on from his spot at Gryffindor table. Carefully watching as you wiped the tears falling down your cheeks, some splattering onto your green tie and white shirt.

You sat there, carefully wiping the falling tears from your face. It was the hardest you had laughed in a long time, the utter amusement of your best friend’s tone just sent you into a fit of giggles.

Placing your glasses back onto your face, you turned in the direction of the man you so desperately wanted to be yours.

But you were shocked… He was already looking at you, a soft smile etched on his features.

You looked away quickly, a red, hot blush spreading over your features as you hide your face in your long blonde hair. It was as if breathing became more difficult. You couldn’t believe he was looking at you, let alone the fact that you caught him looking.

Your eyes went wide, and blood ran cold as you realized- He caught you looking too…

Carefully, yet quickly you gathered your things. Praying he wasn’t watching you as you shoved your toast in your mouth- while simultaneously grabbing your bag and wand.

You brushed past your best friend, whispered a quick sorry as you rushed so very quickly out of the Great Hall. Praying that you weren’t being followed by the one person you knew you couldn’t face.

The empty corridors echoed as you rushed through, trying to get away from the interaction with Fred. Hoping that he really wasn’t looking at you, so he didn’t see how flustered you got by the eye contact.

But you knew deep down, he was looking at you. You also knew, this time he actually saw you, not the small, quiet, wickedly smart Slytherin girl he sits behind in Potions.

Thoughts spun through your head, unaware of the footsteps following you. The echoes becoming even more overwhelming as your heart beat out of your chest.

You were in such a rush to get away, you didn’t even notice that you rushed into the restricted section of the castle. You just continued to try and get as far away from everyone and everything as possible.

You were drawn from your thoughts as you felt a hand wrap around your upper arm, carefully spinning them towards you.

You heart dropped as you spun around coming face to face with a certain freckled face, who was taking in your features slowly.

“Hey” he said, almost in a shy tone.

You opened your mouth, but you knew no words would come out. Taking a deep breath, you uttered the only sentence you could, one you have been trying to say forever.

“Hi Fred” you said, shyness also lacing your tone. It was the one sentence you had been trying to say since you met him 1ST year.

“You know you didn’t have to run out, right?” He said softly, letting go of your arm as he watched a blush coat your features once again.

“I-uh-uh-I I was embarrassed… it obviously wasn’t my best moment.” you said, clearly just defeated that you had been caught, not only looking at him but also running away.

He opened his mouth to softly comfort you, but he was interrupted by a sharp meow.

Both your eyes went wide as you saw Mrs. Norris and her blood red eyes looking narrowly at the two of you. You knew that Filch wasn’t far behind.

Fred gently grabbed your hand, pulling you down the corridor. You short legs barely catching up with his long steps he was taking. You both sighed as he pulled you inside a dark closet.

The meows distanced themselves from the outside of the door, silence began to engulf the both of you. It was then that you realized Fred still had a hold of your hand. You carefully pulled away- trying to hold yourself together.

Swiftly you turned back to the door, pulling on the handle gently as you just tried to escape this situation all together.

But the door didn’t open.

“Fred- the door is locked” you said nervously.

He just sighed, brushing past you and roughly pulled on the handle. But of course, it didn’t open for him either.

“I-uh I think we are stuck” he said, laughing as he sulked back into his corner of the closet. His laughter just continued to bounce off the walls.

“Seriously, of all things Fred I do not need this right now. I just want to get out of here.” you hissed unintentionally as you fumbled around the dark closet.

His laughter filled the tiny, dark space. You could almost imagine the smirk that crossed his handsome features. You felt the annoyance in his laughter beginning to push your buttons.

Merlin, you were locked in a closet, and he found it more than amusing.

“Glad to know you find this so funny.” You stated, anger dripping from your words.

Continuing to jiggle the door handle, praying that it would open. No spell or trying could get you further away from this situation.

“Maybe it’s locked because we need to talk…” he suggested. You knew he wanted to talk about the fact you were looking at him earlier, but you had no words. Nothing to even try to defend yourself.

“Fred- I don’t want to talk” you said, still trying to jiggle the doorknob. You were praying it would just open so you could escape this dreaded conversation.

You knew the minute you opened your mouth that the words of love were going to desperately escape from your locked vault. You were so desperately in love; you didn’t even know what to say to him.

Carefully turning your head, you caught his darker eyes. You could see the lack of sleep covering his features, his soft stubble that was starting to show on his chin, the freckles that danced along his features.

Before you even knew it, you were moving closer. Your lips barely touching his before you felt the fireworks shoot through you. Your eyes opened, looking deeply into his. He was looking just as deeply back into yours.

You leaned forward again, placing a swift hand on his cheek. The fireworks were shooting through you as you kissed him once more. His hand finding it’s way to your hair and around your waist, pulling your smaller figure into him.

Nibbling carefully on his lip, a small moan escaped from his lips. You couldn’t believe that this was happening right now.

His hands slowly made their way down to your ass, squeezing. It drew a loud moan from your throat as you leaned in closer to him.

You pulled away; your lips hot from the kiss. Carefully you undid the buttons to his white button down, feeling his abs as you slowly undressed him. His shirt fell to the floor, as you made your way to his pants, popping the button carefully.

His eyes watched you intensely as you got on your knees, slowly dragging his pants down his legs as you kept eye contact.

His cock clearly outlined in his boxers as you carefully pulled them down his legs as well. You caught his eyes, almost to get his approval before taking his cock in your mouth.

You swirled your tongue around his thick cock, saliva running down your chin as moans softly fell from his lips. His hands found their way to your hair, roughly pulling causing a moan to come from you as well.

You carefully pulled away from him, locking your lips with him once again. His large hands pulled you close, carefully undoing the buttons on your shirt. Slipping it off your shoulders, your white lacy bra showing on your sun kissed skin.

He carefully kissed down your neck, softly sucking as he made his way to your breasts. He carefully caught your eye, silently asking for your approval. You nodded softly, as he undid your bra- softly kissing your nipples and breasts. The moans silently slipped from your lips as you laced your fingers in his ginger hair.

He continued to give your breasts all the attention as you moaned more, “Freddie… fuck me. I need you”

A wicked smile crossed his features as he carefully lifted your skirt to reveal the lack of underwear you were wearing.

“Oh- naughty. No panties?” He moaned, pressing hot kisses to your neck.

“All for you…” you moaned as you turned your back to him, bending over. His hand brushing against your nub, carefully swirling in circles before you felt his tip graze against you.

His tip was at your entrance, teasing you gently. You moaned at the contact before he entered you in one quick move, your moans echoing through the closet. Fred continuously pounding deeply into you, as he pulled your hair.

He carefully flipped your around, his lips slamming onto yours. The hot closet and Freddie inside of you sent your body into overdrive. He quickly picked up his pace, causing your eyes to roll back into your head.

Your climax was fast approaching, and Fred could feel you beginning to tighten around him. He carefully reached down rubbing your sensitive nub.

“Are you mine? Tell me baby” He groaned out as he continued to slam into you.

“Y-Y-Yo-Yours” you moaned loudly, as your climax overcame you. Fred could feel you pulsating around him which only caused him to lose it. He moaned as he filled you up with his hot seed, causing you to moan at the contact.

Your legs felt like jell-o, as you carefully pulled your shirt back on. Quickly turning to Fred, placing a soft kiss on his lips as you turned, pushing open the door which thank goodness was unlocked now.

Sending a wink in Fred’s direction as he pulled his clothes back on. He sent you a soft smile, knowing good and well he was going to see you later. You carefully turned, heading towards your common room.

And all of a sudden you were wondering where you got the confidence, as you slowly skipped away from Fred. But you knew that the closet, and those moments with him had changed you forever.

The Closet- Fred Weasley

“Seriously, of all things Fred I do not need this right now.” you hissed as you fumbled around the dark closet.

His laughter filled the tiny, dark space. You could almost imagine the smirk that crossed his handsome features. You inner annoyance reaching a new high when it came to him.

Merlin, we were locked in a closet and he found it more than amusing.

“Glad to know you find this so funny.” You stated, anger dripping from your words.

Continuing to jiggle the door handle, praying that it would open. No spell or trying could get you further away from this situation.

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Aesthetic | Weasley

“E” for “Exceeds Expectations”. And I’ve always thought Fred and I should’ve got “E” in everything, because we exceeded expectations just by turning up for the exams.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

The thing about growing up with Fred and George is that you sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

I’d hate to see what the Ministry’d do to me if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they’d have to dig me up first, because Mum would’ve killed me.

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

But Dumbledore says he doesn’t care what they do as long as they don’t take him off the Chocolate Frog cards.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Keep back there, Hagrid! They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I’ve seen this Horntail do forty!

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

p.s. sorry but i don’t really like Percy… an aesthetic of him would have looked like that: and also… the last scene of him speaking to twins during the battle… it breaks my heart.

Epilogue - All the time on Earth

Summary: The final chapter of your life where you return to your beloved castle, with all the people that matter

Warning: None, Fluff

Word count:2.3K

George Weasley x Reader // Fred Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Masterlist

It had been getting harder and harder to climb the stairs now, but today was extremely difficult. You felt tired, you felt as though you were out of breath and that you needed to sit down to have your well-deserved rest. On your way up to the bedroom you passed many pictures hanging on the wall; your dear Fred’s wedding pictures, then Roxanne playing with one of your grandchildren under a Christmas tree. You gave a faint, tired smile. They were such good memories.

It seemed really cold once you reached the upper floor. You made your way slowly to the bedroom, opening the door slowly. It was hard to turn the handle; your hand was aching all the time, and you also needed a breather after those many stairs. You stopped for a second, searching for a wand in your pocket, but you had to come to a tired realisation that you had forgotten it downstairs again. Yes, now you remembered; it was probably lying on the kitchen table. A raspy sigh left your lungs — you simply did not have the strength to climb the stairs again, only to get that wicked wand.

There was no other way, you had to reach the bed in total darkness. Luckily, you knew the room by heart, since living in this house for over fifty years now. You walked carefully, passing the old cabinet in which you still had one of those old Christmas jumpers hanging, its color faded, its material stretched out. You passed the mirror in which you always checked your outfit for the day when hurrying off to the Ministry each morning. Finally, you walked passed the bedside table, on which stood one single photograph, of you and your late George; a moving picture that was taken on his forty fifth birthday. You remembered that day clear as day, having Albus and Teddy setting up a huge tent where all the family could celebrate together.

You were glad it was dark in the room, however. As much as you loved your husband, it had been hard sometimes. You missed him with all your heart, and seeing pictures of when you were younger just made the pain sharpen inside. It had been three years, and remembering only a few times was better, than being tortured by his memory throughout the days. It was a bit sad. But it was better this way.

You sat on the bed with a huge sigh of relief. Your legs were hurting, your back was in pain, and your head felt like it was about to explode. You lay down, and as soon as your head touched the pillow, it became all better. You closed your eyes, sighing again. You wondered if you had closed the front door… well, you certainly would not go down to check it now. Anyway, if Victoire was right, the charms that James had casted on the entrance was keeping every kind of harm away.

By that thought, you relaxed a little, your breathing slowing down. You were thinking about next weekend, when the little ones had promised to visit their nana. Sweet little things. You loved them, all of them. You were ashamed to admit it, but there were times, when you simply forgot their names. You couldn’t help it. There were so many of them, running around in the house, it was hard to remember sometimes.

The cool air of the room made you shiver, so you pulled the covers up. Within seconds it was all cozy, and you felt like a biscuit, warmy being baked in the oven. You chuckled to that thought. Maybe, if you have the strength, you’ll bake something for when the children come. But at the same time, as your breathing was getting slower and slower, a strange feeling came over you, and suddenly you knew, with great certainty, that you were never going to cook anymore.

You fell asleep.

You opened your eyes. It was brighter then before and you had to blink a few times before you were able to focus on anything, really. You were lying on your back, so there must have been a floor under you. You felt it, but somehow you didn’t feel it. It was a strange feeling.

It was also not cold anymore. It was neither warm nor cold, to be exact. The temperature was absolutely perfect, so perfect that the thought of it soon left your mind. It was not important anymore. A moment later you didn’t even remember what you had been thinking about.

You took a deep breath. It felt nice, it felt an easy thing to do. There was no rasping, no muffled breathing anymore. It was unusual, but you were certainly glad for it. Now that you came to think of it… everything was so… comfortable. Your back was not hurting, your legs were not in pain anymore. You were feeling… well.

You suddenly felt your hands touching your stomach, resting. You looked down, and realised that you were naked. Then, the next thing you realised was how healthy you looked. Your skin had a nice, warm tone, and it wasn’t as loose as you remembered it to be. You were also missing several scars that you had acquired over the decades. You blinked. You didn’t know what was going on. You wished you could see yourself.

As soon as the thought occured to you, a mirror appeared out of nowhere. You hesitated, then stood up — which was surprisingly easy — and walked towards the mirror. You wanted to see your whole body, and the mirror somehow new, for it had started growing and now it was as big as a door. You met your reflection, and you let out a surprised gasp.

It was you. But not as you knew yourself now, no… But as you had been, several, several years ago. Your skin lovely, your hair not gray anymore, and your face… your face was young and beautiful. As you started examining your body, something appeared next to you, a few metres to the left. It was a train, but not just any kind of train. It was the Hogwarts Express.

And suddenly, you knew.

From then on, there was no question about it. You wanted to board immediately. All of a sudden you felt awkward for being naked. In a second, freshly washed clothes appeared at your feet. You wanted to waste no time. You got dressed, took one last look in the mirror, then ran to the train and hopped on it. It started moving, first slowly, then faster and faster until it was going at full speed.

You felt too excited and nervous to sit down, so you were standing during the whole journey. You were looking out the window, seeing houses, forests and meadows passing by. Once you saw a beautiful lake with a frozen surface, but the train was moving too fast for you to actually examine everything properly. And then, when you were seriously wondering about the destination, the train started slowing down, then stopped at what seemed like a train station of a small village. The door opened, and you climbed down with your heart beating in your throat.

As your feet touched the ground, more and more houses seemed to take shape in front of you. They seemed so familiar, still, they were still dream-like. There was a pub, a bookshop, and a small café nearby. On the left, they sold cloaks, ice-cream and newspaper. However, there were no people around. You only saw one person, a tall figure, you was standing a few metres from you. He seemed really familar.

“Georgie?”

Your heart was pounding really fast as you started walking. You would have given anything to see your George again. But something was off. Even though the man had ginger hair, his expression was something of a kind as a mischievous smile appeared on his face.

“Let’s try that one more time, sweetheart.”

You stopped, frozen in shock. This couldn’t be. This wasn’t happening. No. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real.

“N… No,” you whispered.

“Yes,” came the cheeky answer.

“No,” you said again. He laughed.

“Yes.”

“But… you’re…” you shook your head in despair. His smile disappeared. His eyes were filled with tears.

“It’s so good to see you again, Y/N.”

You covered your mouth to muffle your sobs, but it was not doing very much. Finally, you gave up alltogether, and closed the distance between the two of you and hugged him, sobbing uncontrollably. He was sniffling as well, gently stroing you back with his warm hands. Warm. He was warm. A sudden flash of a certain night came to your mind, but you erased it immediately. That was not important anymore. He was here. He was with you again.
You stepped back, wiping off your teary cheeks, looking at him again. You tried to calm down, but you were still chuckling occasionally as you started to speak.

“I missed you — so much.”

“I know.”

“You know?” you whined.

“I missed you, too,” he ignored your question but let out a small laugh — a sound which suddenly felt so familiar, even though it had been over sixty years. Fred leaned closer and gave a soft kiss on your forehead. “I missed you so terribly. I was also wondering when I would see you. Been a lot easier since George have arrived, though.”

“George?” you jerked your head up. “George is here as well?”

“Of course,” he said in a matter of fact tone. “Everyone is.”

“Can we —”

“Meet them?” he said, his eyes sparkling. “We’re gonna meet someone first.”

“But —”

“Everything in its own time,” he said mysteriously. “First, we’re going up.”

“Up?” you said, confused. He rolled his eyes.

“Turn around, woman.”

You did. And your jaw dropped. There was the road, leading through some trees, through a gate and up till the entrance of the castle. The Hogwarts castle.

“Why are we here?” you whispered. Fred smiled.

“Well, I guess this place is part of everyone’s heart. At least a bit.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you said, still confused.

“You’ll understand.”

“When?”

“Over time. Now, come on.”

He gently pulled you with him and you started walking towards the entrance of the castle. Every piece of grass, every leaf, every tree was like a friendly wave from the past. Your past. It all seemed so magical and you felt like a first-year student, experiencing this for the first time in their lives. The only difference was, that you already knew this place. And you felt like in a dream. Every now and then you glanced at Fred, making sure he was still there with you. When you did that, he smiled and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

You reached the Entrance Hall, then made your way up the marble staircase. The corridors and hallways looked exactly how you remembered them. You walked through hidden passages, stepped over missing stairs, and soon arrived at the last turn before the Gryffindor common room.

You swallowed and you stopped before the painting. It was not the Fat Lady, it was a simple picture of a forest. You let go of Fred’s hand and looked around nervously.

“Where is everyone?” you asked.

“Oh, you’ll meet them,” he said.

“When?”

“When you’re ready,” he gently squeezed your shoulder. “Don’t worry, all right? You’ll never have to worry again.”

Your eyes met his.

“Promise?”

He smiled and flipped open the portrait.

“Promise.”

The two of you stepped inside and nostalgia hit you like a train. The carpet, the furniture, the fireplace, the paintings, the doors, the tables and the chairs… even the smell was the exact copy of the one you remembered. Fred walked past you, talking loudly.

“I’m back.”

“Took you long enough,” said another voice and your heart missed a beat. Fred grinned.

“Yeah, well, I had to pick up someone.”

“Who?” came George’s voice from the couch. Fred grinned even more.

“See for yourself.”

George turned around and his face dropped. You couldn’t even take in his presence when he was already holding you in his arms, lifting you from the ground. When he put you down he kissed you without saying a word, and you kissed him back immediately… Then you pulled away just enough to look into his eyes, and realised that he was young again, just the same way as you were. His hair was ginger and messy, his freckles lit up his face, his skin was soft and toned… he was holding you with much more strength than in recent years, and his lips were crashing against yours with so much force that you had not felt in a long time.

“Hello, my love,” he said finally, and his words made you tear up again. “Welcome home.”

A shaky ‘hi’ was the only thing you could say. George laughed.

“Are you struck by my beauty, darling?” he teased. You chuckled.

“I missed you so much,” you said, cupping his cheeks. He turned serious, and rested his forehead against yours.

“I missed you, too. How’s… How’s everything at home? How are the kids?”

“I’m sure everyone’s fine, I’m… wait,” you looked at Fred. “I thought you could see what’s going on at home?”

He made a politely confused face.

“I’ve never said that.”

“But you referred to it.”

The twins exchanged looks. Fred hesitated.

“Well… You can have a peek, but it’s tricky.”

You frowned.

“Oh… It’s okay. You can show me how things work around here.”

“Now?” asked Fred in surprise. You shrugged and took your opportunity.

“Well, yeah of course!”

George laughed and kissed you on the cheek.

“Unbelievable! You barely got here and you already want to know everything!”

“You cannot build a trading business here, Y/N” said Fred, teasing.

“Of course I can!” you said, laughing. Then you raised your head in mock demand. “Now, show me around. I haven’t got all day.”

“Actually…” started Fred, grinning again. “We have all the time on Earth.”

You raised and eyebrow in doubt. Then, you smiled.

“Well, I don’t think we’re on Earth anymore.”

“Fine,” agreed Fred, smirking, while getting ahold of your arm and leading you to the portrait hole, George following. “We have all the time in Heaven, then.”

The End.

Dear Readers!

Thank you all for supporting Georgie and Witty’s story in this past year.

Writing this was like therapy for me - I could always escape to Harry’s world, and I’ll be forever grateful for that. I hope whenever you needed to, you could always escape to this world, too. In my opinion, this fanfiction shows perfectly, how the stories we love never really leave us. We can always create and read more. We can always relive the best times, even if it’s in the form of books, films, or a fanfiction.

Because don’t forget: Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home.

Wish you all the best,

B.B.

Part 38 - New Beginnings

Summary: As time goes by, you and George start your new life. Just the two of you. Until you have a surprise for him.

Warning: None, Fluff

Word count:1.3

George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

“Your total is five galleons and three knuts,” you said and took the coins that the young witch gave you. “Here you go, have a nice day!”

She took the package and waved goodbye. It took her a while to reach the entrance because the shop was flooded with people. All around kids were looking at products, laughing at each other, trying out magic and muggle cards, or just racing each other to the higher floors.

“Tough day?” came a kind voice from behind your back.

“Ron!” you said with a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Just came to say hello.”

“Have you really?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Actually, I came to talk to George. Is he around?”

“Oh… Wait a second, will you? Verity!”

The witch from the other side of the store turned to you. You waved and watched as she started moving towards you, carefully making her way in the crowd.

“Verity, could you take over for a bit?” you indicated at the cashier. “I need to take care of something.”

“Of course!” she said and you nodded towards the stairs.

“Thank you. Come, Ron.”

You made your way to the upper floor which was a bit less crowded, then continued on the corridor towards the back, where the door lead through to your flat.

“So, what brings you here?” you asked once there were no people around. Ron looked around nervously.

“I was thinking about leaving the office.”

“Really?” you said while turning the key in the door. “How come?”

“It’s just… not for me I think. Harry’s all for it, but I was thinking about — woah! I’ve never been in here!”

He looked around in surprise, seeing the inside of the flat. You laughed.

“I guess the renovation really did the place justice.”

“You renovated?” he asked.

“Yeah… it was… it reminded of… you know,” you said dully. “George is in the office. He’s a bit quiet, this time of year, you know. It’s almost May.”

“Sure,” said Ron huskily. You cleared your throat.

“I’ll tell him you’re here. Be back in a sec.”

You walked past him, and knocked on the door which used to be Fred’s room. A muffled ‘come in’ came and you stepped inside. George was sitting at the table, papers and unfinished drawings all around him, but he was clearly not working. When he looked at you, a kind smile appeared on his lips.

“Hey, is everything all right?”

“Sure,” you said and walked over to him and sat in his lap. He welcomed you with a soft kiss. “What are you working on?”

“I was thinking about some new products.”

“Really?” you said with joy. He had not invented anything for years. “And what will they do?”

“Well…” he said lowly. “Maybe they’d ease tension. After a nightmare or something. I thought about them yesterday, when… you know…”

“You woke up?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and you saw him glancing towards the window, where a photograph of him and Fred stood. “What do you think?”

You stroke his hair kindly.

“I think it’s phenomenal.”

“You mean it?” he said, looking into your eyes again. “Or are you only saying that because you love me?”

You snorted with laughter.

“What a ridiculous question,” you kissed him. “By the way, Ron wants to see you.”

“Ickle Ronnie?”

“He’s here right now. He’s outside.”

“What does he want?”

“I think he might want a job. Here.”

“Does he?” he looked at the closed door. A sudden idea seemed to come him. “What if I hire him?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, maybe you can apply for that job in the Ministry again. If you want, of course.”

“At the Ministry?” you said in disbelief.

“Well… You always wanted to work in trade… Maybe this time they actually look for qualification instead of blood,” he said in an annoyed tone. You looked at the floor, thinking.

“Yeah, maybe… Can we talk at dinner?”

Now he was the one who snorted.

“Weren’t we supposed to?”

“I meant… I just need to tell you something.”

“Oh…” he looked concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, standing up from his lap. “I’ll send in Ron.”

The rest of the afternoon flew by quickly and once you looked at the clock it was already seven o’clock. You were heating up some leftovers from yesterday, when George exited the bathroom, his hair still a bit wet from the shower. You smiled at him; he looked incredibly handsome.

“So, what are the big news?” he asked and your heart jumped.

“What big news?”

“You wanted to tell me something, did you not?”

“Oh…Oh! Yes. Er —”

“What is it, then?” he came closer. “Is everything —”

“Stop asking if everything’s okay,” you snapped. “Sorry. I don’t wanna sound rude.”

“Okay, love…” he said, looking puzzled. “You’re starting to scare me so say it please.”

You stomach was in a knot. You had been thinking about phrasing the words in your mind the whole afternoon, but no solution came. You swallowed.

“You said I should apply for a job at the Ministry.”

“Yeah.”

“Well… I can’t really do that. Not now.”

“What?” he said. “Why?”

“Remember when I ate that fish and then threw up?”

“What, like — two weeks ago?”

“Mm. And I didn’t tell you this but I threw up yesterday, too.”

“Are you sick or something?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“Well, I thought… So I went to St Mungo’s for a check up…”

“Okay…” he said slowly. “What did they say?”

You took a deep breath.

“George… I’m pregnant.”

A silence fell over the room. George’s face was stuck in shock. His eyes were the only things moving; they slowly made their way down your chest and stopped under your stomach.

“W… What.”

It was not a question. You sighed again.

“I’m pregnant.”

“What.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Wh —”

“George!” you said, your laugh shaky from nervousness.

“Merlin… Are you really?” his mouth fell open.

“Yes.”

“Oh, my God,” he fell onto his knees and touched your belly as if it was made of glass. “There’s a baby in here?”

“Yeah.”

“Hah… hah,” he laughed weirdly. You were not sure he understood the situation.

“George… You know what this means?”

“What?”

“You’re gonna be a dad. We’re gonna have a baby.”

He looked up at you, his eyes wide.

“A baby?”

“Yeah.”

“Our baby?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my God… Oh, my God!” he exclaimed and stood up. “Oh, my God, Y/N! You’re pregnant, you’re… Oh, my God!”

He shouted and lifted you from the ground. You laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

“I can’t believe this…” he said, now grinning from ear to ear. “We’re gonna have a baby! Oh mum… Mum’s gonna freak!”

“I know,” you said, also smiling. “But there’s something else.”

“Something else?” he said and looked at your belly again.

“Yes. So… While I was there, there was a witch who told me about these charms that would help me know more about the baby… And…” you laughed as tears started falling from your eyes. “She asked me if I wanted her to do those charms on me, and I said yes…”

“Why are you crying?” George asked in fear.

“Because…” you chuckled with tears. “Because I don’t think we’ll need to think about names…”

“What do you mean?”

“Because… it’s a boy.”

He reacted faster than for the first time. His hands flew over his mouth, his eyes watering already.

“Are you… Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you nodded while crying and he broke into sobs as well. He hugged you again, holding you close, occasionally laughing, then crying again.

“You are my everything,” he said, whispering into your ears. “You and… him.”

He looked down at your belly again, and with a smile on his face he gently touched you where he imagined his son to be. You were shaking with joyful anxiousness, but were grateful as well; grateful for him, grateful for your happiness, and grateful for the amazing life that was about to come.

Part 37 - When Happier Times Come

Summary:Who knew a breakthrough in your relationship would finally come? And what will happen after you and George found each other again?

Warning: None, Fluff

Word count:2K

George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

You just finished reading an article in the Daily Prophet when the door opened in the hall and George stepped inside, his heavy boots thumping on the wooden floor. You turned to him with a smile, watching as he threw his coat to the hanger and brushed the snowflakes out of his hair.

“It’s freezing outside,” he said and waved his wand so that a cup of hot tea appeared on the table.

“You should’ve taken the scarf your mum made,” you said, smirking. He rolled his eyes.

“Always with the lectures, Y/N,” he said, but you saw him hiding a smile. You threw the Prophet onto the table.

“So — how was it?” you asked eagerly. George took a sip.

“Well… it was quite all right,” he said with a shrug. “They seemed to like the idea to do some business with us. Maybe Tom’s hand is in it as well. He offered a bottle of gin. On the house.”

“He likes you, Tom,” you said. “And his help can always come in handy. Lot of folks come through the Leaky Cauldron from all around the country. If he can just talk to them about how amazing the shop is, that’s already a step forward to us.”

“You thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” George asked. You nodded.

“Why, of course. I want the best for this place. For you. For us.”

He didn’t answer but looked at you in a strange, almost surprised way. He seemed like he was thinking about something he had long forgotten, or as if he was searching for words that did not even exist.

“What is it?” you asked, because his gaze made you feel uncertain. He moved his head from side to side, speaking very slowly.

“Nothing. Everything’s all right.”

He stood up, taking his empty cup into the kitchen, his face still fixed in that expression. You didn’t know what to make out of it, and it started worrying you. When he reappered in the living room, you were determined to say something. He sat down next to you onto the couch.

“George, is —”

You couldn’t finish for he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips onto yours, gently, but firmly at the same time, and you were staring in surprise, not sure what to make of the situation, for he had not kissed you for over a year now.

His lips parted slowly, allowing his tongue to have a taste of yours. You were on fire, you felt as though you were going to melt into his touch, and you closed your eyes and kissed him back, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him closer until there wasn’t an inch between you left.

After at least a minute you couldn’t bare it anymore and broke apart, desperate for air. Your heart was beating twice as fast, and you were panting, while looking into those beautiful brown eyes.

“Hi,” he whispered. He seemed just as shocked as you were.

“Hi,” you said, your voice breaking. You felt tears in your eyes and you started blinking. One year. More than that. He had been somewhere else for more than a year. But now as you looked at him, you felt something else, something changing. You felt as if happier times would come.

“Come here,” he pulled you close, kissing your cheek. You were shivering. You couldn’t help it. You buried your face into his neck. You pressed soft kisses all over his skin. He took a sharp breath, then lowered his head to meet your lips again.

His hand found its way to your lower back and you felt like you were dreaming. You leaned closer to him, breathing in his smell which you loved and missed so much. He then slowly stood up, not letting go of your lips but pulling you with him. You stood on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pulled away, only for a second, to look into your eyes.

“Do you —”

“Yes, shut up,” you said, pressing your lips on his again, backing away towards the bedroom.

——

Christmas was just around the corner, and you felt as a completely new person. To be exact, you felt like yourself again. Yes, occasional sadness still hit you, it hit George as well. But somehow you felt as though the two of you were fighting against it together, and not separately.

Last Christmas you had not visited the Burrow, it was just way too much for the two of you. But this year Mrs Weasley invited you again, and even though her eyes were often watery and she blew her nose constantly, all of you felt like a family again. On Christmas Eve, when you were sitting on the couch in George’s lap, staring at the tree and listening to the radio, the world seemed a less horrible place, even if it lasted only for a few hours.

Everyone was there; Ginny and Hermione were talking while sitting on the floor, Harry and Ron were playing chess while Bill watched. Charlie was supposed to arrive the day after tomorrow. Mrs Weasley and Fleur were playing with Teddy, who was now mumbling words and constantly changing his hair color after every sentence. Mr Weasley and Percy were talking, being watched by George.

“Is everything okay?” you asked kindly, stroking his hair. “You’ve been quiet.”

“Yeah,” he tried to smile but you could see some kind of nervousness in his eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, love,” he pressed a soft kiss on your hair. “Everything’s okay.”

Soon Andromeda came to take Teddy home, and people started to go to sleep one by one. Your heart ached painfully after entering George’s room — there were still two beds in there, figuring they’d come in handy once there’s way too many guests in the house. Still, it took you an enormous amount of effort to stay calm, take George’s hand and climb into bed next to him. He held you close all night, but you could tell that he was barely sleeping. You woke up several times during the night, too.

Then morning came and you opened your eyes with a tired groan. George was already sitting up, looking anxious. He was checking his watch, then when he saw that you were awake, he smiled weakly.

“Finally,” he said. “Come, I’m sure mum’s ready with breakfast.”

“Just give me five more minutes,” you said, closing your eyes again.

“C’mon, it’s Christmas!” he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of bed. “Aren’t you excited to give me your present?”

“Why do you think you’ll get a present in the first place?” you teased while opening the door.

“Witty,” George rolled his eyes and took your hand again, leading you down the stairs.

Not a single person were in the kitchen, they all gathered in the living room around the tree. It was quite crowded but you didn’t mind. Ron was already wearing his maroon jumper; you saw Hermione smirking and him shaking his head before kissing her on the cheek. Percy was just opening his package which seemed to contain a new scarf and a hat. Mrs Weasley’s sudden voice made George jump.

“Kids, finally! Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas… Let’s see… George, here you go dear. Just the usual.”

“Thanks, mum,” he said, hugging his mother for at least a minute. Mrs Weasley’s eyes were watering again, but she collected herself and smiled when looking at you.

“Y/N, dear… Arthur, where are you — come here! Now, dear, we’d like to —”

“No, mum, it’s me first!” said Ron through his teeth. You raised and eyebrow. George groaned.

“Then just do it, you prat.”

Ron shot an angry look at his brother, then he turned to Hermione uncertainly.

“Er — Hermione?”

“Merlin, Ron,” she said, rolling her eyes while searching in her pocket. “Yes, I have it, don’t worry. Do you want to read it?”

She gave Ron a piece of paper which he held up, looking a bit puzzled, then started to read.

“Dear Y/N! We were thinking about the perfect present for you, something that would make you feel the happiest person on this fine Christmas morning. Unfortunately, our ideas stopped at a certain point, therefore we decided that our present will be nothing more, than our appreciation and friendship that we feel whenever you’re in the room.”

He folded the paper, looking quite proud of himself. Hermione nodged him in the ribs.

“Oh, and Merry Christmas,” finished Ron. Hermione nodded. “Merry Christmas.”

“Oh…” you said, not sure what just happened. Anyway, their words felt really nice. You smiled. “Thank you. Merry Christmas to you, too.”

“Well, this is embarassing,” spoke Bill, while holding a piece of paper. “Looks like we were thinking about the same present as Ron.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling quite dull.

“I’ll still read it,” said Bill, and Fleur was looking at you, smiling. “Dear, Y/N. Please allow us to express, how much we adore you. You’re brave, you’re strong and you would do anything for the people you love. This perfectly showed during those long months you spent with us. It was hard, though you never gave up. And for this, Fleur and myself — we adore you.”

“Thank… Thank you,” you said, choking up. You felt their words to be too nice. They were too nice to you.

“Thanks Bill, for ruining my speech,” Ginny stepped forward, her face in mock annoyance. “I wanted to do the same thing, but seems like my idea was stolen.”

“Just read the letter sis,” said Bill, fighting a snicker. Ginny nodded and pointed at herself and Harry, a letter in her hand.

“Y/N, I want to thank you for being the first person who sat down next to me in my second year, even if I endangered a lot of lives the year before that. You never judged me, and you became one of the best friends I had. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You were always there for me, in happiness and sadness, and I hope I was always there for you when you needed me.”

“Of course you were,” you whispered.

“Good. And I promise to be there for you after this, for the rest of our lives. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you said.

“Now, dear, Arthur and I have something to say as well,” said Mrs Weasley, paper in hand. “You have always been like a daughter to us, and we could not have been more proud of you. It’s always a pleasure to have you with us, and we thank you for making our son so happy. I know that without you he — he’d be lost and — all I want to say is… all we want to say is that we welcome you in our family.”

She smiled with tears in her eyes and George spoke.

“Y/N?”

You turned around and you saw him already on one knee, holding up a box with a beautiful ring in it. Your mouth dropped.

“Y/N…” he spoke. “You are the love of my life. You are my everything. You are witty, you are smart and you are the kindest person I’ve ever met…Without you I wouldn’t have been able to survive this past year… You were there for me since I’ve known you, and I can never repay you for all the love that you have given me. But if I try, maybe a lifetime will be enough… So will you marry me?”

You dropped onto your knees, crying. You ignored the ring and hugged George instead. It wasn’t even up for debate. Your answer was obvious.

“Yes!” you sobbed. “Of course I’ll marry you!”

You kissed him and the room erupted in cheers. George hugged you tight, his lips against yours and he stood up, pulling you with him while Mr Weasley summoned some glasses and champagne.

“I love you!” you said to him finally, after pulling away a bit, looking into his eyes. His were watery, but he was grinning.

“I love you, too!” he said, kissing you again. He then took your hand and placed the ring on your finger. You gasped.

“Oh, George — I love it!”

You hugged him again, and continued crying. The difference was, that these were not miserable tears. These were happy tears. And for the first time in a very long time, you felt that your happiness could not be demolished by anything.

Part 36 - Older

Summary: George has never been older than his twin brother. Ever. Until now.

Warnings:Angst

Word count:1.7K

George Weasley x Reader

Song:Queen - Love of My Life

Masterlist

You had been dreading this day since last May.

In the past few months your relationship with George had become somewhat better, though you had your better and worse days either way. After Christmas you had figured it was time to clean out Fred’s room, that had been deserted for a very long time. It wasn’t an easy task to do. There was sobbing, cuddling, screaming, hugging, crying… but eventually it was over. Now its door was closed, hiding a room which no longer represented someone’s personality. It was just an empty room now.

And yes, it had been hard. Really hard, for the both of you. But some days were simply easier, some days you were not as miserable as usually… Except today. Oh, yes. You had been dreading this day since last May. Because today was the first day of April.

You woke up earlier than him and your empty stomach drove you into the kitchen, where you started chewing on a piece of toast, though not really feeling its taste. You looked at the clock; it was half past eight. You watched the seconds passing, feeling more and more miserable and lost. The silence in the kitchen was defeaning.

You put down your food, you simply couldn’t eat anymore. Your stomach was clenched and about the size of a nut, hurting with every breath. You wished you could eat more. Maybe then you could fill some of the empty hole in your chest.

You walked back to the bedroom and saw George lying on the bed with his eyes open. You stopped at the door, examining his face. He had been melancholic for a few days now… But today was different. You knew today he was hurting like nobody else.

“I’ve brought you some breakfast,” you said huskily, knowing very well that he’s not going to touch the food. You put the plate onto the nightstand and kneeled down to the floor to be on the same level as him.

He was crying. It wasn’t sobbing, it wasn’t conscious bawling… his tears were falling quietly down his face, then raced to reach his pillow. His gaze was empty, or at least he was staring at something that you couldn’t see.

You reached out, gently touching his face. You wiped his tears with your thumb, only to welcome more and more. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You wanted to throw things around the room. But you had to stay strong for him. Today, you simply had no other choice.

You climbed back to bed and lay down, hugging him from behind. You were stroking his hair tenderly, occasionally pressing a small kiss onto his cheek or the nape of his neck. You were lying like this for at least an hour, when he started shaking.

“It’s okay,” you said, hugging him tight while he was crying in your arms. “It’s all right, love.”

He was shaking even more and you had no idea what to do. All you could think of is staying here, by his side and making through the day, one minute at a time.

There was knocking on the window and you saw an owl, with a letter tied to its leg. You turned towards it uncertainly, George still in your arms.

“Don’t…” he said. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not…” you said and waved your wand towards the window. It opened and the owl flew inside, raising his leg after finding a place on your cover to stand.
You needed only a second to see what kind of letter it was. You got it from the owl, watched as it flew away, then looked at the messy writing which seemed to had been written by a very shaking hand.

“It’s from your mum,” you said lowly. George winced.

“I don’t want to read it.”

“I know,” you said and put the letter aside. “You really need to eat something, Georgie. It’s almost noon.”

He didn’t answer and you accepted his silence. You went back to him, resting you chin on the top of his head, while he was shaking with watery eyes.

“I’ve never been older,” he said, his voice muffled from the crying.

“What?”

“I’ve n-never been older,” he sobbed. “Older than him.”

Your heart broke into a million pieces with realization. You swallowed, trying your best not to cry, but it was really really hard.

“Sing,” George said suddenly. You looked at him, puzzled.

“What?”

“Sing,” he pleaded. “You sang a muggle song… a long time ago… sing for me…”

“I don’t — I don’t remember singing,” you said desperately. He cried.

“Please… Please, Y/N…”

“I can’t…”

“Please.”

You stared. You didn’t want to sing. You were only singing when you were happy, when nothing troubled you… It was a tool to express joy… You knew if you were going to sing now, you would lose your mind. You would hurt yourself on so many levels… But George was here, asking you to do it. And you would do anything for him.

And so you took a deep breath and sang the first thing that came to your mind.

Love of my life, you’ve hurt me
You’ve broken my heart and now you leave me
Love of my life, can’t you see?
Bring it back, bring it back
Don’t take it away from me, because you don’t know
What it means to me

It was not perfect, you could barely call it nice. But you were singing and George seemed to ease in your arms for the first time. You couldn’t stop now.

Love of my life, don’t leave me
You’ve taken my love, you now desert me
Love of my life, can’t you see?
Bring it back, bring it back
Don’t take it away from me
Because you don’t know
What it means to me

Tears started blurrying your sight so you decided to close your eyes.

You will remember
When this is blown over
Everything’s all by the way
When I grow older
I will be there at your side to remind you
How I still love you
I still love you

You saw a castle in your mind, and you saw happy memories. You saw walls and common rooms, greenhouses and Hagrid’s hut, you saw a lake, you saw a village and you saw two boys with red hair at the Great Hall table, recklessly laughing about who knows what. You were choking on your tears. But you wanted to finish now.

Oh, hurry back, hurry back
Please bring it back home to me because
You don’t know what it means to me
Love of my life
Love of my life

You fell silent, your tears running down your cheeks. You left them there. You didn’t care anymore.

The two of you lay there, not saying a word for at least an hour. George seemed to breathe a bit more easily after the song, and it was all that mattered. You, on the other hand, were a complete mess. You pressed your lips together tight, determined not to make a noise. Behind your closed eyelids pictures from the past flew by, and you wished with everything that you were to be able to turn back time and be a fifth year student again, who sometimes orders stuff from outside the castle and sells them to be able to buy a ruddy bottle of butter beer.

The sun was shining from a different angle now and you knew that it was way into the afternoon. Without any hope for success, you gently stroke George’s hair and spoke in a low whisper.

“You should really eat something, love… or have a cup of tea… how does that sound?”

To your surprise, George opened his eyes and turned his head slowly, facing you. Maybe he was more hungry than miserable, because he nodded and sighed as if collecting some strength to get out of bed.

“Okay.”

He sat up, but didn’t stand until you intertwined your fingers with his. His face looked exhausted, his eyes were bloodshot from all the crying. His hair was everywhere and his cheekbones were as sharp as a knife.

“Come on,” you said, leading him to the kitchen. “How about some music?”

He nodded and sat down to the table. You turned on the radio, leaving it on low volume and letting the slow tune to fill the cold room. You left the water to boil and looked at George again. He was sitting with his head hanging low, breathing slowly, eyes closed.

“Come,” you said again, tenderly touching his hand. “Dance with me.”

“What?” he said, visibly puzzled.

“Dance with me,” you said again, pulling him to his feet.

“Y/N…”

“Sh… it’s okay. See?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning closer so that your chest was against his. You two started swaying slowly, without any real steps, but still dancing in an intimate, loving way. You rested your chin on his shoulder, standing on your toes to reach him. After a while you felt him shaking with sobs again.

“Darling…” you said, gently wiping his face. He shook his head.

“I’m sorry…”

“No — Don’t say that. I know…”

“It’s not that…” he sniffled. “It’s… I know… I know how terrible I’ve been to you…”


“You weren’t,” you said, though a weird uneasiness came over you. He shook his head again.

“Yes, I’ve been. I… I want you to know… I want to spend my whole life with you… I do, but… I feel like I’m stuck… I don’t have my old life anymore, but I’m not ready to… to start my new one…”

“It’s okay…”

“But I need to tell you, I need you to understand…”

“I know, baby,” you said, kissing him on his cheek. “I know it’s hard, I know we’re… we’re not quite all right, but… maybe with t-time, we will be.”

“It hurts…”

“It hurts me, too,” you said, hugging him close, and he hugged you until you couldn’t breathe, until you felt nothing but him, and finally it felt as though some of the pain inside the two of you was evaporating away… You knew better times would come… But when, you had no idea.

You thought about Hogwarts again, the castle and its grounds, and you realized with another painful jolt in your heart that you would never be able to return to those times when you were so carelessly happy. You went through a war. You were not children anymore. You were both… well… older.

Part 35 - Strangers

Summary: After Fred’s death everything is dark. How can you move on when you don’t want to move on? And how can you love each other, when all love seems lost?

Warnings:Angst

Word count:2K

George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

Like two strangers, you were lying on each side of the bed, your backs opposite each other. The clock on the wall said it was way past two in the morning. Still, you were not asleep. You were quiet, your breathing steady and slow, and you were staring into nothing, while George’s quiet sniffs came from behind you.

You’d moved back to the little flat above the shop three months ago, after spending one more month at the Burrow. It was still hard. Without Fred the rooms felt empty and deserted. The shop was open, sure; you knew George rather wanted it open so that he can do something… but it was not as charming, not as fun as it used to be. For the two of you, at least, it wasn’t.

The bed creaked on George’s side and he got up and left the room. You didn’t turn around; you knw either he was going to the bathroom to wash his face, drive his demons away, or headed for the kitchen to drink something that’d help him sleep. You waited for minutes but he didn’t return. Then there was a crash.

You got up and ran outside; the lights were on in the kitchen. You covered your eyes for they were hurt by the brightness and stepped in.

George was standing in the middle of the kitchen, frozen, his face emotionless and bland. He was staring at one spot on the ground, where the remains of a broken teapot lay. Around it was a small puddle of water, pieces of china all around the floor.

“Reparo,” you said. You dried up the water with another wave of your wand. You looked at George. “You okay?”

He didn’t answer. He turned away, lips pressed together and leaned onto the counter. After some hesitation you stepped closer. His shoulders were shaking, his head hanging low. You knew he was able to sob quietly, a talent which he had perfected during these past months. It came in handy when he wanted to hide his cries from you. It broke your heart.

“Love…” you said as gently as you could. You wished you could hug him. “Love, come back to…”

“Stop it, Y/N,” he said, a bit colder than you found necessary. You swallowed.

“Let me help you.”

“I cannot be helped,” he said, still not turning around. “Go back to bed.”

You stood there, choking up. He had been like this ever since you got back from the Burrow. Yes, he left the house every now and then, yes, he had reopened the shop, but he was not the same George anymore. He was barely eating, he was just staring at or playing with his food. He looked so pale and so sickly, that you were seriously concerned for his health at this point. There were times, when he was frozen in shock and in realization; then he would just stay still, staring into the void, completely forgetting about the world. Usually, he got three or four hours of sleep per night; he got to bed late and woke up early, desperately doing his best to avoid dreams, dreams which you knew were haunting him since they were all about Fred.

And the worst of it was that he didn’t want to be helped. He didn’t want to be comforted. When you tried to hug him he left, when you tried to dry up his tears he turned away. You knew you needed to give him space, and it was all right, but at the same time you felt lonely and depressed as well. He had promised that he’d be there for you, but he was distant and rejecting. You were like two strangers living together.

On those rare occasions when he had better days — when he put a lock of your hair behind your ear, or touched your shoulder as he passed behind you in the shop — you felt empty. You were missing that raw energy that he had always had, that special George Weasley-like liveliness… you wished he would pull you into his arms, or would fiercly grab you while making love… but in reality he barely touched you, and even if he did, his fingertips brushed against your skin and that was it. Nothing more. After two months of moving back, you had wanted him so much your body hurt… but when you kissed him, he had refused and told you to go back to bed.

Just like he did now.

——

George was bleeding; he had cut himself with the paper when he unwrapped the package that just had arrived. How ridiculous, he thought, as he watched the owl flying out the open window, and sucked on his finger in annoyance. When the bleeding stopped, he looked at the little wooden box his mother sent him and opened it up. It was full of old letters, pieces of paper and pictures. He closed the box immediately, turning it’s little lock. He had an idea what it was, but he simply did not have the strength to care about it in the moment.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said, and you stepped in. George hid his hand with the cut finger in his pocket. He didn’t even know why.

“Someone is looking for those eatable ears,” you said, the buzzing of the jokeshop coming from behind you. “She doesn’t want to understand that we won’t have them until the end of the month.”

“Just… ask her if she wants to preorder now,” he said, barely paying attention.

“All right.”

You nodded and turned to leave, but George’s gaze fell upon the box on his desk.

“No, wait — Actually, could you take this up, please? Mum sent it. I’ll deal with those ears.  Why don’t you… Go up. We’re closing in thirty minutes anyway.”

He gave you the box and you took it; he saw something in your eyes but you turned away quickly and closed the door behind you, leaving him alone in his office. He cleaned his throat, fighting that depressed feeling he felt every time he talked to you.

The truth was, he had opened the shop again, but only to have something to spend his days with. It did not cause him pleasure anymore, but it was rather painful to spend each day selling products that they made up with Fred, together. He did not feel enthusiastic walking along the shelves; he felt as if he was missing something, he felt as if a big part of him was left somewhere.
Well, he had been feeling like this anyway, so at least he was making some money.

He also felt lost, but it was not because of Fred. It was because of you. When he looked at you during breakfast, or talking to a customer, he wondered if he’d see the spark in your eyes, the cheekiness he loved so much. He knew he was causing you pain, he knew you were crying every night… But he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you about Fred. He couldn’t.

He was staring at the floor for minutes when he finally remembered that he was supposed to help someone. He left the office, immediately being surrounded by hundreds of people laughing and joking around amongst the shelves. He felt nauseos.

He wrote down the name of the customer, then he watched as the crowd slowly faded. Then he closed the doors, turned the lights and headed for the stairs, up to the flat. He fumbled with his keys, then stepped inside, and — carefully avoiding his reflection in the mirror — loosened his tie. When he turned around, that’s when he saw you sitting on the living room floor, sobbing.

His heart jumped in fear and he hurried over, scared, that something really serious was happening, that you were in pain, that someone might had hurt you… Then he saw the wooden box next to you, a bunch of photographs lying all over the floor. He lowered himself, feeling extremely anxious.

“Y/N?” he started uncertainly. “What happened?”

You shook your head and sobbed. George wished he could hug you. He wished he was able to.

“Y/N…” he said miserably. “Tell me…”

You reached for a photograph on the floor and shoved it in his hand. It was crumbled as if you had grabbed it too firmly. He looked at it and he felt his heart pounding painfully. He thought he’d have a heart attack.

It was the three of you — him, you and Fred, in the Burrow, standing in front of the Christmas tree, when you came back from Hogwarts in your last year. It was not moving, it was made using Mr Weasley’s muggle camera, but George could still see the happiness in his eyes. And Fred… He couldn’t look at Fred for long. He stared at himself instead, but it was like looking at a stranger. He was smiling, he looked well-fed and healthy, he even looked more mascular than he was now. He chuckled darkly — he still had two ears.

He turned over the picture and put it down. He sat down next to you, examining all the papers on the floor.

“Can I bring you something?” he asked lowly. “Tea?”

You shook your head. George swallowed.

“C-coffee, then?”

“Hold me,” you said suddenly, between sobs. “Please.”

How could he explain that he couldn’t? But you were already in his arms, and he held you so gently that he barely even touched your skin. He was sitting there with you for long minutes, thinking wether he knew what he was doing or was he just a coward…

“George?” you asked, wiping your face.

“Yes?” he said huskily.

“Don’t you love me anymore?”

He stared, taken aback and you pulled away from him, looking into his eyes.

“Why would you say that?” he asked, but he knew very well what you meant.

“Because I feel it,” you said. Your voice was really heavy. “I see it when I look at you. You… you haven’t kissed me in months. You wouldn’t even touch me… I feel so out of place, and I feel like I’m just some burden, some stranger who lives here.

“You’re not — no,” George felt his whole world shaking. How could he tell you, how could he make you understand? “I love you, Y/N! I do, I really do!”

“I’m not sure I can believe that anymore…”

George shook his head violently. How could he explain to you how he was feeling? How he was constantly wishing that he could rip out his heart to stop the pain? He didn’t even have to think about Fred to be hurt, the feeling was just there, all the time, during the day, but also during the night as well. He had nightmares, visions about the battle, but sometimes it was not Fred who lay on the floor, but his mum… Ginny… you.

He hadn’t been home for a month, he just could not bare to look them in the eye. But here was different. You were with him in the shop, in the flat, in the bed… And George somehow felt that if he kept his mind off you, the nightmares would not come so often. He felt that when you kissed him, he slept worse, fighting the sick feeling in his stomach that was telling him that he’d lose you as well, that if he loved you carelessly and freely a moment would come and take you away from him as well.

But he couldn’t tell you that. You’d not understand. You’d tell him that the war was over and that you were safe now… And George didn’t want to be reassured, because he didn’t believe that everything was fine now, he didn’t believe that life was safe and sound when he was already missing the biggest part of his life… So this is why he let his head hang low at the dinner table, this is why he went form kisses to hugs, from hugs to shoulder brushes, and this is why he told you to stop when you wanted to make love to him, during those quiet nights in late August…

He realized he had zoned out again. It had been really hard for him to concentrate on anything, really. But your quiet crying brought him back to reality. No matter how hard he tried to stay away from you… he still loved you. And he hated himself for causing you pain.

Part 34 - Seven Days After

Summary: After Fred’s death, neither you or George cope with the situation well. You cry in secret, he doesn’t come out of his room. Will he listen to you when you talk to him, or will he stay distant?

Warnings: Angst, Depression

Word count:4.1K

George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

The funeral was quick and you were glad for that. You zoned out after it had begun; you felt guilty for not paying attention but at the same time you knew that you wouldn’t be able to handle it. You were sitting in the front row next to George and the two of you were not saying a word to each other. From the corner of your eyes you saw how his shoulders rose and fell and you knew that he was forcing himself to breathe properly. He was staring without seeing much, and after the funeral ended with the lowering of the casket, he was the first to stand up and disappear in the house.

You had not seen him ever since, and it had been five days.

You felt empty. You wanted to feel empty. Empty was better than pain. You did not want to feel anything, because that would mean that you accepted the truth, that you were living through it, and you were not ready for that. It was easier to distance yourself, to pretend that it didn’t hurt. To pretend that you were not dreaming that you were carrying his body with the Ravenclaw boy. Pretending was good. Pretending was safe.

Oh, yes, pretending was fun. But sometimes it didn’t work. Sometimes the truth came through, memories flooded your mind, and during those times it hurt much more than you could ever imagine.

“Y/N, I’m talking to you, do you hear me?”

You looked up, your eyes meeting Ginny’s. The bowl of soup in front of you was cold and watery now. Opposite you, Mrs Weasley sat, crying. Mr Weasley was gently stroking her hair.

“I don’t know what to d-do,” she sobbed, her eyes puffy and weary.

Mrs Weasley had been busying herself, continuously doing the laundry, cooking more than was necessary, dusting off furniture every two hours… literally doing anything to draw her attention away from her son. Sometimes, however, she would break down, crying her eyes out. Apparently, this was one of those occasions.

“I t-tried everything… he won’t o-open the d-door.”

“I was just telling Y/N,” said Ginny, the usual strength missing from her voice. “That maybe she should try it.”

You looked around the table and noticed that everyone was staring at you. You raised an eyebrow.

“You want me what?”

Your throat hurt as you spoke. It had been days since you said more than one sentence.

“You can…” continued Ginny. “You can try to bring him his dinner. He won’t open the door to mum or dad.”

Of course. They were talking about George.

“What makes you think he’ll let me in?”

“C’mon, Y/N…” she pleaded. “Just try. Please.”

You looked away from her, fixating on Mrs Weasley again. She was dabbing her face with an already soaked handkerchief. She looked pathetic, to be honest. You couldn’t blame her, though.

You nodded and grabbed a prepared plate with some chicken and sprouts and headed for the staircase. Each step was a misery, it felt like you were marching to your own execution. You had no idea how he was going to react. He had not talked to you since the funeral.

You reached the door that recently you had tried to ignore, for it had been too much to even ackowledge its existence. But now you stood before it, your hand raised, and you knocked, waiting for an answer that didn’t come. You knocked again, this time more loudly, but there was still no response. You were thinking about leaving the food on the floor, but you reached for your wand instead and tapped on the handle, turning the lock with a clank.

You stepped inside and your carefully built wall of denial almost crumbled. The first thing you saw were the boxes, filled with untested products and notes; then you saw left behind socks and trousers all around the floor that were clearly not George’s; and finally you saw two bed, one perfectly made, cold, empty, and one with a tall ginger figure in it, facing the wall, his eyes closed.

You did not want to stay in the room for more time than was necessary. You put the plate onto the table, then turned and left. You did not want to go back to the kitchen; you headed for Ginny’s room which you shared, lay down and stared out the window at the darkening sky. Around nine Ginny came in as well, and you pretended that you were sleeping until she closed the curtains. Then you lay on your back, facing the ceiling, doing your best not to fall asleep, because you knew that nightmares would come, and you had had enough of those.

The house was quiet, it was past midnight. You wondered if you were the only one awake, or was there anyone else who was struggling against the calling of night time horrors. You closed your eyes, focusing on your steady breathing. You were not going to give in.

A brown pair of eyes.

You sat up, panting, shaking your head. No, you cannot think about it! You took deep breaths, determined to stay calm.

A Nosebleed Nougat in a colorful wrapper.

“Ah, fuck,” you whispered, burying your face into your hands. Stop it. Don’t. Just… don’t.

‘Morning, sunshine.’

You let out a quiet moan and you pressed your palm against your mouth. You got up as quietly as you could and made your way out of the room, down the stairs, into the bathroom. You closed the door, then opened the tap and splashed cold water on your face.

Drinking tea in the kitchen. ’I love you.’

“Stop!” you whispered, holding your head, as if you were trying to drive those unwanted thoughts away. The water was still running.

The couch in the common room. A lake with skating children. A pair of sneakers on the floor.

“Stop!” you groaned, hitting your head. “Stop it! Please… stop!”

‘You’re like a sister to me.’

“Shut up…” you cried, broken, grabbing onto the sink with one hand, trying to muffle your panicky breaths with the other. “Please… I don’t… I can’t…”

You fell onto the floor and did not want to get up. You held onto the rug, squeezing it, pleading to anyone who’d listen to stop the pain, release you, make it feel better, bring him back…

You didn’t know for how long you stayed there, but what it seemed like hours later you heard movement in the house. You stood up quickly, stopped the water, then left the bathroom quietly, looking out at the sky, seeing that morning was not far away… You went back to Ginny’s, climbed back into bed, and fell asleep within minutes.

You woke up, feeling more tired than ever. Your eyes hurt from the continuous sobbing, but if you were sure about one thing, it was that no one would make a comment about it. They knew.

You walked down to the kitchen, suddenly craving company. You ate a few bites of your toast, but it was like chewing a rug. Mr Weasley already left for the day with Percy, and you could not help but think about the shop that was now standing deserted. You choked up and pushed the plate away.

“Dear?” you faced Mrs Weasley, who was holding a bowl of porridge. “Will you take this up, please?”

You looked into her eyes, and realized that they were the same brown as —”

“Sure,” you said and quickly turned away. You went for the stairs again, stopped in front of the door just like you had done yesterday. You knocked, but there was no answer. After trying the lock, you pulled your wand out again and opened the door with a tap.

George looked exactly the same as the previous night. He was facing the wall, apparently sleeping. You looked at the table where his dinner lay untouched, cold. You switched it with the bowl without a word.

“The door’s locked for a reason.”

You turned around, not believing your ears. You had not heard George’s voice for almost a week. He sounded ill.

“You can tell dad as well.”

You swallowed.

“Your mum’s downstairs,” you said huskily. “It’s me.”

He jerked his head towards you and you barely recognised him. His eyes were swollen and almost shut, his whole face had sunken during those seven days. Under his eyes huge, dark circles colored his pale skin. He looked like a skull.

“Oh,” he said finally. “Okay.”

Your stomach clenched.

“Okay?” you stared. “Please, eat something. You can even bring the bowl down when you finish.”

He didn’t answer and you casted down your eyes. You wished he had at least stood up from the bed. You could not bare to look at him anymore. You turned around and left him, closing the door behind you.

“Nothing?” Ron asked as you returned to the kitchen. You shook your head. Mrs Weasley, seeing the untouched plate, broke into tears again.

“I wish he would talk to us!” said Ginny, angrily wiping her eyes. “He could at least come down to sit with us!”

“I know,” you said, thinking the same.

A fading smile on colorless lips. A white casket.

“Stop!” you said, shivering.

“What?” said Hermione. She looked worried. “Y/N, is everything —”

But she didn’t finish. She knew nothing was okay.

You turned away, facing the sink. You felt the familiar pressure in your throat, choking you, and you felt yourself tearing up.

“I’ll feed the chickens,” you said, not looking at any of them. You hurried out of the house, your feet taking you further and further. You passed the garden, passed the lake and ended up by that tree under which you had been sitting ages ago, with George, making a flower crown, telling him that you felt safe when you were with him…

‘How is the lovely couple?’

You pressed your fists against your eyes, violently shaking your head. No, you didn’t want to think about him, you didn’t want to, you didn’t…

Fred.

Fred as he colored your hair at Shell Cottage. Fred as he handed you a butterbeer in Hogsmeade. Fred as he looked concerned, then laughed at you. Fred teasing Ron. Fred smirking in the shop. Fred hugging you before setting off to rescue Harry. Fred, on the floor, dead.

It was so much worse now, during this lovely morning, surrounded by wild flowers and nicely buzzing bees. At night, you could pretend that it was just an episode, that when the morning comes the nightmare ends, but now… What could you pretend now?

You walked back into the house not long before lunch. Even if you didn’t eat much, you needed these small events to get you through the day. A sort of habit, a system. Sitting down, talking, crying alone, repeat.

“Dear?” said Mrs Weasley and you didn’t even look at her, but took the tray with a plate of food and a glass of water and headed for the stairs. You didn’t knock this time, you tapped the handle, opened the door and stepped inside. George looked exactly how you had left him, still in his pajamas, facing the wall.

“Here’s lunch,” you said.

“I don’t know if you can tell,” he started, without looking. “But I am not hungry.”

You looked at the bowl of porridge you had left there, now soggy and disgusting.

“Please,” you said. “Please, eat something. Or just — Let’s go outside. Let’s go for a walk.”

You wanted nothing more than to be with him.

“I don’t want to go for a walk,” came the muffled answer.

“Please,” you said, then added hesitantly, “I miss you.”

It was almost as if he moved his head a little… but it might had been your imagination. You stood there, not sure what to do, choking up under your emotions again. You wished he would look at you. You wished he’d at least turned around in the bed.

“Please,” you started, tears in your eyes. “Please, just look at me…”

“Please leave me alone,” he said miserably. “Leave me alone, Y/N.”

“Please.”

You waited, and he seemed to be waiting, too. You did not want to leave, not until you tell him what’s in your mind. It seemed like hours, before he finally moved; he slowly, very slowly turned around in the bed, then put one foot down onto the floor. His pale, sunken face was glowing in the curtained, shadowy room.

You two locked eyes, and it was when you truly saw how much pain he was in. He was lost, he was exhausted, he was grieving. But you were, too.

“Please, George,” you started. “Please… I can’t do this alone anymore. It’s… killing me, no matter how hard I try, it keeps crashing down on me… I don’t know what to do, I feel so miserable, I feel so useless, and I need you, I need you more than anything but… apparently you don’t need me, so —”

His face softened and he stood up from the bed. He came closer, reached out as if he was about to hug you, but then retreated. He casted down his eyes.

“Of course I need you… I…”

He shook his head, puzzled. From up-close you saw how dry his lips were, how unhealthy his skin looked. You could clearly make out his cheekbones.

“You, staying up here… isolating yourself… it’s not good, Georgie —”

He winced hearing his name and closed his eyes as if he was trying to get rid of a thought. You stood there, watching, speaking as genuinly as you could.

“I’m not the only one… your family misses you, too —”

“They miss him,” he said through gritted teeth. “Not me.”

“That’s not true!” you said and stepped closer, this time taking his hand, too.

“They’re worried about you… Please, don’t do this… Don’t push them — don’t push us away. Staying here alone is not going to make you feel better… and it breaks my heart, you up here, feeling miserable, not eating, not —”

“Of course I’m feeling miserable!” he said, with a surprisingly rude tone. “What did you think, that I’m gonna sing and dance around the house? My brother just died!”

“I know,” you said, feeling hurt. “But don’t forget, he was a son, he… and he was like a brother to me, too.”

“Yeah? You weren’t even related,” he snarled all of a sudden. “So how d’you reckon I feel?”

You were taken aback. All of a sudden George looked like a bomb, ready to explode. You let go of his hand, and you felt yours shaking.

“I know you’re scared —” you started, but he cut you off.

“I’m not scared —”

“— but I’m scared, too. Every time I… I think of him, I’m scared, because I know I’ll have to live a life without him…”

“Stop it,” he said, closing his eyes again. You were barely holding yourself together now.

“And I’m scared to accept that he’s really gone…”

“Stop it, Y/N, I’m telling you…”

He sounded like a wounded animal. You started sobbing.

“I’m not stopping! You stop it, stop acting like he was only yours, because you’re not the only one in this house who feels fucking miserable…”


“I’m not saying I’m the only one, but he’s… he was… I knew him best, I was the closest to him! Y/N… Can you believe that?” he was half shouting, half crying. “Can you imagine what’s it like being together with someone for twenty years, and then see them on the floor, d-dead?!”

“I…”

“Everywhere I look, I see him. I look at his bed and it’s empty, I look outside and he’s not there! I’m stuck, it’s torturing me, it’s like he’s torturing me…”

“Don’t you think it’s torturing your family, too?” you yelled. You wiped your eyes, but it was a weak attempt; you couldn’t stop crying. “Have you seen your mum? How she breaks down every two hours? How she always tries to do something, to keep her mind on something else? And your dad? Comes home from work, barely speaking, barely eating? And Percy? Being all shaky and not staying long, because he wants to hide how messed up he is?”

“Yes, I’m sure they’re all —”

“And that’s not the worst!” you didn’t let him finish. “The worst is that you won’t even care, you don’t even show your face, and now it feels like we’re grieving two people, because you’re not there!”

“Well, I wish I wasn’t there!” he shouted painfully. “I honesty think that it should’ve been me, I wish it was! I wish I was the one, not him, sometimes —”

“YEAH, WELL, SOMETIMES I WISH I WAS DEAD, TOO!”

He fell silent, and you couldn’t take it anymore. You turned around, sobbing, ran down the stairs and ended up in the kitchen. When you looked up, you saw that everyone was staring. You ignored them and ran out of the house. Not looking back, you turned on your heels, jumped into the nothingness and disapparated.

——

You came back to the Burrow way past dusk. As you appeared at the little meadow the first thing you saw was the house with light coming out of its windows. You couldn’t stop yourself; you searched for George’s window, then turned your head away immediately. It was dark.

You shivered a bit, even though it wasn’t too cold. It was the middle of May, and you saw a couple of owls setting off for their night time hunting. You thought about Peanut and your heart ached again.

You didn’t want to go in just yet — you were not planning on sleeping any time soon, anyway. You walked slowly towards the backdoor, watching as a gnome hurried back into its hole by the sight of you. Finally you stopped, sitting down onto the last step outside the door, resting your chin on the back of your hands, your elbows on your knees. You stared without seeing, and you didn’t even jump when the moonlight shone upon some kind of animal crossing the garden.

You weren’t sure you wanted anyone to know where you’d been. You weren’t sure you were ready to see any of them, after what they had heard. You weren’t even sure how you felt about the things you had said. They were true, there was no doubt. But it still pained you to realize, how far you had come, when you were supposed to be happy. You won, didn’t you? The good side won, Voldemort’s reign was over, and you should be happy. Right?

You wished it was that easy.

You sniffled and looked around in the garden, finally taking in the sight. In the darkness, only illuminated by the moon and the stars, everything seemed so peaceful. It seemed almost unbelievable, and suddenly you hated all this beauty, all this peace. You were jealous of it. It was unfair, it was not right to have such peaceful things surround you, when you were so disturbed… It was unfair of nature to run its course as if nothing had happened, when something did happen, and Fred Weasley was dead.

You watched as the light breeze tingled the grass, and you looked over the hill where the small village lay; not far from it the cemetery, that was hidden from muggle eyes, that was only for wizards and in which now stood a tombstone, with a very familiar name on it.

“I wish you were here,” you said lowly, not even sure that you wanted to speak. “I miss you so much.”

You let out a shaky breath, tears swam in your eyes. Then you let out a short, nervous laugh.

“I’m sure you’d take the mickey out of me if you saw I was talking to you. But I don’t care. I’m just… scared. I’m so scared to… to one day wake up and don’t remember your face… or the sound of your voice… and I’m scared because I k-know that I need to live the rest of my life without you… I don’t know if I can d-do that…”

You wiped your tears when you heard steps from the kitchen. The door opened and someone joined you on the stairs.

“Were you talking to him?” asked Ginny kindly. You hesitated, then decided that it didn’t really matter. You nodded.

“Yeah.”

She looked at your face, but you were avoiding her eyes. Finally she turned away, following your gaze that was still fixed on the hill.

“I talked with Harry about this,” she started, playing with a grass halm. “He said… He said he was at a place, from where he came back. There’s… There’s something there… I’m sure.”

You didn’t answer. It was too nice to be true.

“I’m saying that he might have heard everything you just told him,” she continued. You bit down on your lips. “I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

You wiped your tears again, unable to stop crying. But for now, it was not a continuity of ugly sobs… it was silent, and somehow your soul felt a bit lighter after Ginny gently squeezed your shoulder.

The door opened again behind the two of you, and you heard an exhausted voice speak.

“Can I talk to her?”

Ginny’s mouth dropped by the sight of George, and you could understand her — she didn’t see him for a week after all. For a moment she looked as if she couldn’t decide wether to hug or shout at his brother, but eventually she just stood up, nodded and left.

You turned back to face the garden again. From the corner of your eyes you saw a pair of shoes next to you.

“Can I sit down?”

“It’s your house,” you said. For a moment, without even realizing it, you were waiting for his comment, for his little chuckle and him murmuring ‘witty’ under his breath. But it didn’t come, and as George sat down, somehow your heart broke a little more.

You were sitting in quiet for some time, and you didn’t really care. You weren’t in the mood for fighting, and you were certainly tired of convincing George about anything.

“Were you serious?” he asked finally. His voice was low and raspy, but you could still hear him in the silent garden. “Did you mean what you said?”

“What part?” you asked, without facing him.

“The last one.”

You tried to gather your thoughts, tried to make them sound nicer, but it was impossible. Your thoughts, just as you, were a mess.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, I meant it. It’s just… so hard. I can’t sleep… I have all these flashbacks, and they hurt… and I wait at night until everyone’s asleep so I go and cry in the bathroom, how messed up is that?”

“Does it help?” he asked. “Crying?”

“No, it doesn’t do a damn thing,” you said miserably. “I am constantly switching between denying my memories and being afraid that I’ll forget him…”

“You won’t forget him.”

“You don’t know that,” you wiped your eyes. “It so hard to believe that one week ago I was talking with him, and now he’s… he’s…”

You started panting, trying to cry as quietly as possible. George’s head was hanging low and you wished he’d say something… But how could you wish that, when you knew that he was feeling even worse than how you did?

“Y/N, I want to apologize,” he said, raising his head. “I’m so sorry that I haven’t been there for you. You deserve so much better… I know that you loved him and that he loved you, too. And I’m sorry for what I’ve said, about you not being related. It doesn’t matter, it didn’t matter then, it doesn’t matter now… You’re part of my family. And you were right, about being there for each other… g-grieving together. I’m just sorry for being so selfish.”

You nodded and finally faced him. He sat there with his eyes closed, his jaw clenched. He was shaking.

“But it’s been so hard for me as well… to realize, to accept… I haven’t slept for a bloody week, every part of my body hurts… he’s everywhere…” tears ran down on his cheek. “When is it gonna get easier?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“How are we supposed to just live now?”

“I don’t know. But… I don’t wanna do it alone. I can’t do it alone.”

“Me neither,” he said and let you wipe the tears off his cheek with your thumb. “Stay with me.”

“Always,” you said, barely louder than a whisper. Then the two of you just sat there in silence, watching as the moon rose higher and higher on the sky.

Part 33 - One Last Kiss

Summary: The Battle of Hogwarts

Warnings: PAIN. (I cried writing this, so brace yourselves. I’m not kidding)

Word count:4.6K

George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

It all happened so fast.

April had been the time of your life - if you can say that during a war - and it could not even be compared to the previous eight months that you had spent at Shell Cottage. You had celebrated the twins’ birthday, then Lupin had come to announce the news about his newborn son. The whole month had been as though there was no war outside; you had lived in your own bubble, accompanied by George and the Weasleys and you could not had been happier.

It all happened so fast.

May had arrived, and with it the radio was shouting the news about Harry Potter who had broken into Gringotts with two of his accomplices, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Mrs Weasley had been so nervous she broke two plates during cooking; Mr Weasley had been carefully listening to the radio the whole day, waiting for any information that would reassure him that his son was all right.

Then the news came. New weather report: Lightning has struck.

It was almost as if you had been waiting for this for years now, and it was finally happening. All the Weasleys got ready, apparated to Aberforth’s place, met up with Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley and the rest of the Order. After you made your way through the tunnel and reached the Room, there was no turning back.

It all happened so fast.

And now you were marching down the stairs towards the Great Hall, and your heart was aching by the sight of the familiar corridors and hallways. You remembered those times, those lovely, peaceful times when you had been a student and you had had nothing to worry about but your exams. Those beautiful afternoons by the lake, those calm nights in the common room. And then here you were, wand in hand, ready to fight for your friends, for your loved ones, but most importantly for yourself. Because you knew that this was it.

Yes, it happened so fast.

But you had been waiting for a long time.

“Are you okay?” asked George hastily as you made your last turn down the staircase, following Kingsley.

“I’m ready,” you said and you knew he understood.

You reached the Entrance Hall and Kingsley turned to you. His low voice resonated through the room.

“I put all my faith in the best thing. You.”

Then he pushed open the huge wooden doors.

You followed him inside, taking in the scene, Harry shouting in the middle, Snape staring at him from across the hall. All around them the whole school was watching.

“How dare you stand where he stood? Tell them how it happened that night! Tell them how you looked him in the eye, a man who trusted you, and killed him! Tell them!”

Snape drew his wand, but McGonagall immediately stepped in, pushing Harry aside. You felt a hand on your arm, pulling you further away from the duelling pair. Then McGonagall won; Snape gave up and flee through the window.

“Coward!” her voice was muffled by the loud cheers of students. “Coward!”

Then a sharp pain, worse than you had ever had struck through your head and you stumbled.

“Y/N!” Fred got ahold of you, helping you stay standing. “Are you…”

Someone screamed but it felt like it was coming from inside your head. You couldn’t bare it, you wanted it to stop, you couldn’t breathe… Then an ice-cold voice spoke, a voice that you had never heard before but it made you feel more afraid, more desperate than anything in this world.

“I know that many of you will want to fight… Some of you may even think that to fight is wise… But this is folly… Give me Harry Potter… Do this and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have one hour.”

Your hand was shaking as you brushed your hair out of your face. What were you doing? What were you doing?! Your eyes met with George’s and suddenly you were not ready… Suddenly you didn’t want this… You wanted to go back to safety, back to Muriel’s and stay there for the rest of your life.

“What are you waiting for?” Pansy Parkinson’s voice dragged you back to reality. She was pointing at Harry. “Someone grab him!”

Somehow anger took over your fear and your mouth dropped, outraged. You were not the only one; within seconds thirty or so people joined Harry, shielding him from Slytherins.

“Students out of bed!” Filch’s voice made you jump. “Students out of bed!”

“They are supposed to be out of bed you blithering idiot!” snarled McGonagall. “And Mr Filch, I would like you, please, to lead Miss Parkinson and the rest of Slytherin House from the hall. The dungeons would do.”

Cheers erupted as Filch started to lead the students. Kingsley hurried towards, giving out orders and requesting people to take positions.

“… need somebody to organise defence of the entrances of the passageways into the school.”

“Sounds like a job for us,” said Fred at once and you agreed. Kingsley approved and waved you away.

“Good. Hurry up, you heard him. We don’t have much time till midnight.”

You turned away, heading for the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall. Around you people were running up and down, pushing each other, calling for lost friends and siblings.

“I’ll take the tunnel that leads to Honeydukes,” called Fred, shouting over the huddling students.

“All right,” said George, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “Take a few people with you. I”ll take the one on the sixth floor, you know behind that ugly statue that looks like…”

“Snape, yeah, by the size of his nose,” grinned Fred. George chuckled, then his face darkened and he turned to you in realization.

“Stay with me.”

Your eyes fell on his missing ear, and you remembered how you felt that night, thinking the unthinkable, fearing the impossible… Yes, you wanted to follow him, you wanted to go where he was going, you wanted to make sure that he was all right, because… because you were scared, more scared than ever before, and you couldn’t bare even the thought of loosing him…

“No,” you said finally, going against your heart’s desire. “No, I’ll go up to the fifth. I always used that one when I wanted to get down to Hogsmeade.”

“No, Y/N,” George started. You cut him off, hoping that your voice was more stern than how you actually felt.

“We need to cover a lot of ground,” you said. “They might be coming from all over the place, we can’t risk it…”

“She’s right,” said Fred, answering George’s ask for help. He looked into his brother’s eyes, his voice confident. “Come on… She’s gonna be okay.”

“I’m gonna be okay,” you said, too. George seemed to be in anguish. He looked like he was fighting for air, looking at you and Fred in turns. Then he seemed to make a decision against his better judgement.

“Fuck! Come here,” he pulled you to him, kissing you with everything he had, not letting you go for at least a minute. When he did, he nodded. “Okay. Go then.”

“Okay,” you said, too. “Okay. George, I love —”

“No!” he said sharply. “I don’t wanna hear it!”

You cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. You knew he was scared to say goodbyes but you wanted to do it anyway… just in case.

“I love you,” you spoke loud and clearly. Then you let him go and turned to Fred. “And I love you, too.”

He opened his arms and hugged you, and you hugged him, too, until both of you felt that you couldn’t stretch out the moment any longer, because your time was up and all three of you needed to be somewhere else, someplace where the others could not follow.

“See you later, okay?” Fred said, giving you one last kiss on your cheek. “Now get out of here.”

You nodded, then looked behind you, where a bunch of people stood, waiting.

“Anyone who’s here to defend the entrances, choose groups!” you shouted. “I need two people.”

The Patil twins were the first ones to step forward. You indicated towards the stairs.

“All right. Let’s go!”

You left the others behind, running, with Parvati and Padma following you, your heart beating in your throat. You tried not to think about George, not to think about Fred, because right now you needed to focus, you needed to get ready to fight. You made your way through a couple of first year boys and looked at your watch. It was ten minutes until midnight.

The further you got from the Entrance Hall, the fewer people you met. Everyone was clearly spreading out in the castle, making sure that every corner was well defended. After you left the fourth floor, there was no one besides the three of you, and you could only hear muffled buzzing from the other parts of the building. You ran up on the last staircase leading to the fifth floor, and then you saw it, the old carpet under which lay the loose floorboard that led out of the castle. You stopped, wand in your hand.

“This is it,” you said, turning to the other two. Padma stepped to the window, her face nervous.

“I can see them,” she said. “Over the hill, I…”

“Let’s just cast some spells over the entrance,” you said quickly, deciding that you didn’t want to see the army outside. “Come, help me.”

You pulled aside the carpet, revealing the wooden planks amongst the stone tiles. You glanced at your watch every second, more anxious by the minute. You placed detective spells over the tunnel that would tell you immediately if someone was coming. Parvati and Padma got several tables from a nearby classroom and built a mediocre barricade from them. You stood behind it, your ears sharp, your hands shaking, your eyes fixed on the entrance in nervous anticipation.

Then there was a loud bang and lights like a thousand firework hit the shield over the castle. You didn’t need to look at your watch anymore. It was midnight.

It went on for several minutes, and with each blow you thought that that was it, the defence crumbled, you were going to get hit and killed… but the castle was holding on, and the whole school seemed to fall into silence, waiting.

“Maybe we’re holding on,” whispered Parvati. “Maybe —”

But then a blow, louder and stronger than any of the previous ones made the whole castle shake, and you stumbled, grabbing the leg of a table, and the floor was shaking, and the walls were trembling and you heard people screaming from all around the castle, and you saw the last pieces of the protective dome over Hogwarts falling onto the ground. Black stripes of smoke were heading in your direction. You raised your wand, people’s distant screams still echoing in your ear, and you feared that you were going to faint and suddenly your mind was empty and you couldn’t remember a single spell to use…

“Impedimenta!” screamed Padma and the first Death Eater fell backwards and out of the window. But there was more, three, seven, fifteen were coming…

A green light hit your barricade of tables and all three of you fell onto the floor, your hands over your head, someone screaming. You heard footsteps coming, and suddenly you were awake, adrenaline pumping through you and you jumped to your feet and stunned an approaching hooded man. Parvati appeared next to you, sending a Body-Bind Curse towards another man. She missed, but the Death Eater was forced to find cover from Padma’s curse. You heard yells and a painful moan, and you used the opportunity to peak from behind the remains of your shelter.

You saw Death Eaters running down the stairs on the other side of the hallway, but there was four that remained there to fight. One of them was dragging his stunned mate on the floor, so you stunned him as well.

“Let’s make the little rats come out of the hole!” you heard one of the man roar and then you were flying backwards, hitting the ground hard and you heard a crack but did not feel pain, for there was no time to feel pain. You stood up, seeing the approaching Death Eater and screamed ‘Stupefy!’ but he blocked it, his face stuck in an evil smile. You could not see either Parvati or Padma but from the corner of your eyes you saw lights in all different colors hitting each other and you heard shouts and cries from all over the place.

“Stupefy!” you screamed again, but missed. “Impedimenta!”

You hit a column and it crumbled, burying the man under itself. Dust and smoke reached your throat, choking you on the spot, and you fell onto your knees, desperately trying to breathe. You looked up, your stomach sick and you saw fire, fire you had no idea where it came from, eating up the hallway, burning the carpit and the paintings on the wall.

“Aguamenti!”

Water burst out of your wand and somehow you managed to stand up, fresh air releasing the knot in your lungs and you looked aside and saw that half of the hallway was blown open, its walls ruined, a huge opening providing a view to the grounds outside. And you saw in the distance people running, screaming, red, purple, orange, green lights flickering; you looked around and you didn’t see either Padma or Parvati but you saw a bunch of new faces and you realized that the fight had reached you. You glanced towards the secret passageway and it was torn open, several hooded figures were climbing out of it, and you ran, as fast as you had never run before.

“Impedimenta!” you shouted and you hit a crouching woman into the face. The man following her growled and sent a green light at you that missed your head by inches.

“Come on, you little prat, dance for me!” he screeched, casting a spell that you jumped away from. “You don’t like that, do you? Crucio!”

Air got stuck in your lungs and you felt pain that could not be compared to anything you had ever experienced… and you screamed in agony, and you wished it was over, you wished everything was over and you wriggled on the floor, desperate for death, hoping that it would come because you were sure even death was better than this pain.

“NO!” you heard a cry and the pain stopped but you couldn’t move. “Are you okay?”

You felt a hand on your shoulder and looking up you saw Cho, her hair messed up, her face black from the dust. You nodded, your legs shaking as you stood up, and your hand flew over your ribs in pain, remembering that some of your bones might had been broken. Around you the scene had changed within those few minutes you spent fighting; you could barely make difference between friends and enemies in the chaos.

“Come!” said Cho, pulling you away from the entrance of the passageway, then turning around and shouting, “Reducto!”

The floor beneath you shook and you saw the passageway falling in, blown up, sealing the entrance so that no living thing could come through it again. You stood, panting, holding onto that thin stick in your hand, and you were not thinking anymore, you were only acting, and you made a run for it, squeaking with every breath you took, but fighting, sending curses at every hooded figure you saw, loosing track of time, but holding on, because there was no other way to end this than to fight.

A high pitched whisper echoed in the castle, and you grabbed your head again, wincing at the sound that felt like it was coming from inside your skull.

“You have fought valiantly but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Harry Potter, now I speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me.”

The voice stopped and you looked around; you stood facing Death Eaters by the dozen. They stood staring, some of them bleeding, some of them grimacing wickedly. Then, almost as if they were one entity, they burst into black stripes of smoke again, fleeing the castle.

The silence was deafening. After the explosions and screams everything seemed sinister, and now, that the adrenaline was leaving your body could you really focus on your fears again. You wondered…

“Help! Someone… Help me!”

You turned your head and saw a Ravenclaw boy lifting a body from the ground. You stumbled to him, stepping over fallen pieces of stones and rocks, and looked at the body, scared to recognise anyone familiar.

“Help!” pleaded the boy again, tears cleaning the dust off his face. “Please.”

You grabbed the leg of the girl he was holding and together you lifted her up. You felt numb. You didn’t want to think about the fact that the person in your hands was not a person anymore.

“We take everyone in the Great Hall,” you heard someone speak. “This way, come on.”

It seemed like hours had passed by the time the Entrance Hall finally came into sight. On your way down more and more people joined you, some carrying bodies, some limping, some holding a wound that was still bleeding. You kept looking around, forcing yourself not to cry, not to panic just yet. There were still a lot of people coming.

You reached the Great Hall and layed the body of the girl next to the wall, beside many many more. Your throat closed by the sight of the many lying on the floor, not moving, still. You took sudden gulps of air. You were panicking now.

You walked on, desperately looking, but there were so many people that you couldn’t see a thing. But then you saw a family, a family with ginger hair huddled together and you started walking as fast as your broken ribs let you.

“George!” you screeched. “George!”

He raised his head in anguish, but as he saw you he left everyone behind and ran, literally crashing against your body, sobbing, and you soothed his hair and whispered:

“It’s okay… I’m —”

You fell silent, seeing the pair of legs on the floor. You stood there, your mind not able to process what you were seeing. You let go of George, getting closer, and now you recognised the sneakers on those feet.

No. No, no, no, no, no. No.

Ginny stepped aside and your eyes fell on Fred, his face still and pale. Your mouth fell open, wether to moan or to scream you didn’t know. You felt a hand on your shoulder, had no idea who it was. You were staring at the lifeless body, and you stumbled over and fell onto your knees next to him, your sight blurry. Someone screamed, or maybe it was you, then you reached for his hand and it was cold, and a cry of agony escaped your lips as you started sobbing, shaking your head in denial, unable to speak. Pain was shattering your insides, it was torturing your soul and you wanted it to end, and you didn’t want to look at him anymore but you were still unable to turn your head away.

George came into view on the other side of him, and you had never seen his face so ugly, so deformed, in so much pain. His eyes met yours and you saw your own pain in them, the pain that was eating both of you up like a desease… you held out your other hand to him, and he grasped it desperately, and now you were holding one warm and one ice-cold hand…

You wanted to believe that it was not true. You were barely able to see from your tears. His eyes were closed, his lips curled even in his sleep, almost as if they resembled the great jokester he was. You let go of his hand but only to touch his cheek, gently, lovingly, then you leaned closer, saying your goodbyes with one last trembling kiss.

His cold skin burned your lips and you were not in control of yourself anymore. Still grasping George’s hand, you lay your head onto Fred’s chest, and you realized with great torment that his heart was not beating. You stayed there, listening to the silence, closing your eyes and crying, for God knows how long.

Hours had passed as you lay there, drowning in grief. Around you people were sobbing with loud chuckles, but you felt so far away from them; you were up in the Gryffindor common room, laughing about who knows what with the twins, so much younger, so much more innocent, and you didn’t open your eyes because laughing was reality, and blood and death wasn’t, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be, because that would mean that Fred was gone.

Your eyes hurt from the salt, and you started blinking heavily. Your ribs ached with every breath, and you were sure that Madam Pomfrey could heal you within a minute; but if it meant leaving Fred behind for even a second, then you did not want to be cured. Through the windows you saw the night slowly fading away, and not long after that you heard the crowd around you buzzing.

“It’s him, he’s coming!”

“They’re back, they’re here!”

“Who is he holding?”

“Who is that?”

You raised your head, alarmed, but not quite understanding what was happening. People seemed to look out the windows, their faces in shock and fear.

“What’s happening?” asked Ginny, her voice crooked. You saw Ron and Hermione look at each other.

“It’s him, he’s here!”

With enormous effort you stood up, your nervousness stronger than your grief. Grabbing your wand you joined the crowd swarming outside the Great Hall, stopping between the ruins of the courtyard. Approaching, you saw him, for the first time in your life, You-Know-Who himself.

He was accompanied by his many Death Eaters, his snake, and Hagrid, who seemed to be…

“Who is that Hagrid’s carrying?” asked Ginny. “Neville, who is it?”

Then you heard the screeching sound.

“Harry Potter is dead!”

“No!” screamed Ginny. “NO!”

“Silence! Stupid girl!” he laughed, his servants joining in. “Harry Potter is dead!”

You felt every last drop of hope leaving your body. While You-Know-Who… Voldemort was speaking, you were zoning out, staring at the body in Hagrid’s hand. It didn’t matter anymore. You were a muggleborn. Your faith was sealed. Maybe death would stop this miserable pain…

Then Neville started limping forwards, an ugly old hat in his hand.

“It doesn’t matter Harry’s gone.”

“Stand down, Neville.”

“People die every day! Friends, family. Yeah, we lost Harry tonight. But he’s still with us, in here. So’s Fred… Remus… Tonks. All of them. They didn’t die in vain. But you will! Because you’re wrong! Harry’s heart did beat for us! For all of us! This is not over!”

He pulled a long sword out of the hat, his face angry and determined, but your eyes fell on Harry, who jerked himself from Hagrid’s arms, stood up, very much alive and shot a blaze of fire at the snake.

It was as though the whole school came alive, and suddenly you were running, shooting spells at every hooded figure who approached you and you were in the Great Hall again, fighting like never before, with a new kind of aspiration in your heart. You remembered something from the past, McGonagall claiming that there won’t be duelling in the Great Hall while she was a teacher here… Oh, how times had changed, you thought, as you were duelling very much so.

And then he came across you, the man you loathed and feared. He growled, his pointy teeth showing in his bloodstained mouth. Fenrir Greyback licked his lips, and you saw hunger in his eyes.

“Stupefy!” you shouted and he blocked it; then it was his turn and you ducked from the green light. “Impedimenta!”

He blocked the curse again, though stumbling under its force. You got on your feet, your ribs hurting immensely. He shot curses at you and you blocked them, one after the other, though you barely had time to fight back.

“This is it, precious,” he howled. “Oh, I remember you and your friends… what d’you think, they let me have the ginger one after we finish here?”

Fresh, hot rage ignited in you, and finally you reached a point from where there was no coming back.

“Avada Kedavra!”

Your curse hit the werewolf in the middle of his chest and he fell backwards, his face stuck in surprise, hitting the floor with a thud. You spared him one last disgusted look, then joined the others, just in time to hear Mrs Weasley yell:

“Not my daughter you bitch!”

George appeared next to you, pulling you away from his mother. Bellatrix laughed but not for long; she was blown into pieces, ceased to exist.

Voldemort was raging on the other side of the hall, seeing how his most loyal servant was finished. But then there was Harry and the fight stopped, for there was no one else but Voldemort left… and the sun was shining bright now, and you were watching the pair of them, talking about wands and lies, and you didn’t understand a thing, but it didn’t matter…

And then both of them cried out their curses… he fell onto the floor… and it was over.

Loud screaming and cheering broke out in the Great Hall and you were caught up in the hundreds embracing Harry, and you turned around, your eyes meeting George’s and he was dirty, puffy eyed, one-eared, and you jumped into his arms and kissed him, because it was over, you were free, and from now on you could love whoever you wanted, you could marry whoever you wished and you could continue your life where you had left off…

When the first wave of cheer ended, you pulled George aside, joining up with the Weasleys again. They welcomed you with hugs, laughter and cries, and eventually you settled down onto the benches, not far from where Fred lay. Your mood was switching from happiness to grief, and you were tired, so tired that you wished to sleep for days. You locked eyes with Ginny, her head resting on her mother’s shoulder, and you saw that Mrs Weasley was crying again.

“Do you know…” started Mr Weasley, looking as though he was not sure he wanted to ask the question. His voice was higher than usual. “Do you know who… who was it?”

“Rookwood,” said Ron, his lips trembling. Next to him Hermione was tearing up.

“But you got him, right Perce?” said Mr Weasley, his voice shaking. Percy nodded.

“I’ve never liked him,” he said. His voice cracked. “But now it was personal.”

“D’you mean…” you said hoarsly. “D’you mean Percy-nal?”

You heard George’s tired chuckle next to you and you turned to him. One second of his gaze was enough to see how much agony he was in… and his eyes were so like his brother’s, whose eyes, you knew, would never meet yours again.

And then the both of you started sobbing.

Part 32 - Reunited

Summary: You have been suffering alone for months, when the opportunity comes to finally be reunited with George again.

Warning:None

Word count: 2.9K

George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist

March came and you were drifting. Tiredness came all over you; it was like a heavy blanket, covering your whole body, pinning you down so that you were unable to move. You couldn’t sleep but kept your eyes closed anyway - it was easier that way. Your slow breathing was the only noise in the room, and you could still smell the untouched food that Fleur had left on the table the night before.

You were exhausted. You felt emptyness inside, a hole in your chest. Every time you breathed you felt as though air was coursing through you but did not fill the gap inside. It was a hollow feeling.

You were in pain. Your head, your eyes, your limbs, everything. Every time you were uncomfortable, it took you loads of effort to turn around in the bed. Sometimes you just lay still, your body aching. You didn’t need to favour your body. You didn’t use it for anything. All those organs inside, they kept you alive. That was it.

Yes, you were alive. But you were not living.

Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. All that thinking, all that anxiety kept you up. You heard continuous buzzing from around the room, but at the same time it seemed as though the buzzing was inside your head. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to do something. Anything.

With a muffled groan, you got out of bed. Not wanting to wake up Bill or Fleur, you opened the door as quietly as you could and you made your way downstairs to the kitchen. It was still really early; the sun had not come up yet.

Darkness welcomed you as you sat down to the table with a cup of hot tea in your hands. You were drinking in silence and when you finished you took your cup to the dishwasher to clean it. That was when you heard the noise.

You jerked your head towards the window after hearing the sound of apparition. You saw people moving not far from the water, then someone disapparated. It was too dark to recognise them; you took out your wand and shouted.

“Bill! Fleur!”

They didn’t hear it. Keeping your eyes on the arriving people, you shouted again.

“BILL! FLEUR!”

Their door flung open and they rushed down the stairs, wand in their hands.

“What is it?” asked Bill. “What happened?”

“There are people here, I… I don’t know who.”

He looked through the window then immediately hurried out into the garden. You and Fleur followed.

“Stop where you are!” Bill yelled when you reached the stumbling people. The light of his wand illuminated their faces. “Who —”

“Help!” came a weak shout. The voice sounded familiar. “Help, please!”

“Dean?” you said and started walking towards the three people. You couldn’t believe your eyes. “Oh, my God, Dean!”

“Y/N?” said the boy in disbelief. “Y/N, is that you?”

He was kneeling in the sand, not far from Luna and an old, skeleton-like man who you recognised to be Ollivander. Bill got ahold of Dean and helped him stand up.

“What happened?” he asked with distress on his scarred face. Fleur helped Ollivander towards the house. “What is this?”

“Ron told us to come here,” said Luna who seemed to be fine, just a little dirty. “I hope it’s all right.”

“Ron?” echoed Bill, alarmed. “When did you —?”

“They got them,” said Dean who was shaking. “They got us, too, but an elf appeared and…”

“Got you?” you asked in a high voice. “Who?”

“Snatchers. But they took us somewhere… Malfoy was there, too.”

“Malfoy?” asked Bill and looked at you. You both knew what this meant. Death Eaters.

“Where’s Ron?” you asked, your stomach clenched. “And what about…”

You couldn’t finish, for a new group of people appeared about twenty metres from you. One of them had fiery ginger hair and looked as though he was holding someone, someone who looked like…

“Hermione,” you whispered. “Oh, my God!”

“Y/N, take Luna and Dean into the house,” said Bill and he hurried towards the newcomers.

“Come,” you said, still staring at the others. You recognised someone else, with dark hair and glasses. “What happened?”

“It’s really hard to explain,” said Luna. “They put me in that cellar a long time ago, but Dean just arrived.”

“They caught us, me for being muggleborn and Griphook for what he is. Then they found Harry, Ron and Hermione. They only decided after that to take us to the Malfoys.”

“But how did you get here?”

“A house elf appeared. He brought us here.”

You nodded, unable to say anything else. You led Luna and Dean into the house, where they stopped awkwardly, both of them looking dirty and muddy.

“Come,” indicated Fleur. “Eet eez all right.”

You barely closed the door when Bill opened it again, followed by Ron and Hermione. Your mouth opened by the sight of them.

“What the…”


“I need to go,” said Bill to Fleur. “They know Ron’s not sick. They know we lied. We need to evacuate the Burrow, now. They might be coming for them as we speak.”

You took a sudden gulp of air.

“What about the shop?” you squeeked. “What about George and Fred?”

“I’ll get them,” said Bill firmly. “Don’t worry. We might still have time.”

Then he ran out into the garden and disapparated. Your eyes met with Fleur’s. Your own nervousness reflected on her face.

“Where’s Ollivander?” you asked, just to say something.

“‘e eez upstairs. ‘e eez really weak.”

She walked over to check on Hermione who was holding on to Ron’s jacket, shivering.

“I make some tea,” you said and walked into the kitchen. Through the window you could see Harry, digging in the sand. Next to him lied a very small body.

You winced and blinked to clear your eyes. So that was it. Bill had talked about it many times, about how dangerous and unstable the whole situation was in the first place. If the Ministry knew that Ron was with Harry, in hiding, they would immediately assume that the whole Weasley family had been helping the Undesirable Number One. By having that disgusting ghoul pretending to be him, Ron had had an alibi. But now the secret was out. And everyone you loved was in danger again.

Your hands started to shake as you filled the cattle with water and put it on the stove. You kept looking out the window, hoping to see Bill return. What were the chances that he was faster than the Death Eaters? Could he get to the Burrow and to the shop as well? Was everyone all right, or was it taking Bill this long because something was wrong?

When the tea was ready, you put some cups on a tray and walked back to the living room. The first thing you saw was Ron stroking Hermone’s hair. You quickly looked away, for it had made you feel a certain kind of longing. You put the tray onto the table, offering it to Dean and Luna. On the sofa, Fleur was sitting, anxiously glancing towards the door every second.

It took thirty more minutes for Bill to return, which meant thirty more minutes of anxiety for you. When he finally opened the door again, he looked nervous, but pleased.

“They’re okay,” he said, looking at you and Ron. “All of them. I moved them to Muriel’s. They’re protected by the Fidelius charm. They can’t leave the house, but well… They’re safe now.”

“Oh,” Fleur crossed the room and hugged his husband. Bill kissed her forehead, then stepped away from her, facing you.

“I can take you there if you want to go.”

“What?” you said in disbelief. “What are you saying?”

“It’s the same thing as staying here. We’re all hiding now. So if you want, I can take you. Permanently.”

“Are you for real?” you asked, standing up. Bill let go of Fleur and nodded.

“I know how much you miss them.”

“Thank you!” you said. “Thank you! When are we —”

“Now. As soon as we can.”

You nodded and ran up to your room, realizing that you were still wearing your pajamas. You quickly changed, then waved your wand, stuffing everything into your trunk. You were ready in three minutes; then you grabbed your luggage and pulled it down the stairs with loud thumps. Bill was waiting for you in the living room.

“I’m ready,” you said with dry throat.

“Good. I’ve sent a patronus, dad says they’re waiting for you.

He kissed Fleur again, then took your trunk and led you out into the garden. In the distance, Harry was still digging.

“Ready?” said Bill as you reached the border. You turned around and looked at the house. You felt happy to leave this place, but you were sorry for never learning to appreciate its true beauty. Now that it wasn’t your prison, you could really see its natural charm.

“I’m ready,” you said, and stepped over the border.

“Let’s go, then.”

He offered you his hand and you took it. The salty air disappeared and immediately came the well-known feeling of twisting and turning. Then it was over and you smelled freshly cut grass and dew instead. You opened your eyes. You didn’t see anything but a meadow under the dark sky. The morning here was still yet to come.

“Here!” you heard a voice and turned immediately to saw Mr Weasley waving. “Quickly.”

You hurried to him and he gave you a hug that took you by surprise, but at the same time felt really nice. He took your luggage from Bill and took out a piece of paper from his pocket.

“Bill,” you said quickly. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Don’t mention it, Y/N. You’re family.”

He squeezed your shoulder with a kind smile, then turned around and he was gone. Mr Weasley lit his wand and pushed the parchment under your nose.

“Read it, now, quickly.”

You read the short text with the address and looked up. In front of you a huge garden appeared with a fountain and a stone path to an enormous house. Mr Weasley raised his wand, looking around, then burned the piece of paper.

“All clear. Let’s go.”

You stepped over the border, your heart beating really fast. You started walking, being more excited with each step. Then a door burst open with a huge bang and you saw a tall figure running towards you.

“Oh, my God,” you said and ran, too. You fell into his arms like never before, letting all the happiness take you, coursing through you, curing you, tending to the wounds that had been invisible… And you hugged him, kissed him, caressed him, and you laughed in relief and knowing that better times will come…

“Hey,” he said finally, pulling you as close as it was physically possible. “Hey, baby…” he peppered you with kisses from cheek to cheek, on your forehead, on your lips, on your jaw and you could tell that he knew that everything was going to be different now.

“Are you all right?” you said finally, staying so close that your noses were touching. “Is everyone…”

“Everyone’s okay,” said George, kissing you again. “Bill was fast, we all arrived within ten minutes or so. The others are inside.”

Mr Weasley walked past you with your luggage.

“Come inside, both of you. It’s better to…”

“Dear God!” he was interrupted by Mrs Weasley’s yells. She was running towards you, her face pure relief. She pulled you away from George, but hugging you just the same. “Y/N… Oh, dear, let me… come in, come inside, I’ll make you something to eat…”

“Mum, let her breathe,” said a cheeky voice from behind her. You looked and saw your second favorite person in the whole wide world. He beamed. “Well, look who —”

You cut him off, hugging him, and he fell silent, his hands on your back, his face buried into your shoulder. You missed him so much and you could tell that he missed you, too.

“How are you?” he asked after letting you go.

“So much better, now,” you said, smiling. A hand appeared on your waist, pulling you close.

“Let’s go inside,” said George.

“Yeah, Mum’s clearly dying to feed you,” said Fred.

He got a light hit from Mrs Weasley on his shoulder and he laughed. The three of you followed her into the house; on the way George intertwined his fingers with yours and stayed so close that you could barely walk normally. You smiled at him and you saw his eyes twinkling with joy. When you sat down to the huge table, he pulled his chair as close to you as possible and brought your hand into his lap.

“Y/N!” another sharp scream echoed in the kitchen as Ginny appeared, wrapping her hands around you. “It’s so good to see you, I missed you so much!”

“I missed you, too,” you said. “But… Aren’t you supposed to be at Hogwarts?”

“I didn’t go back after the Easter break,” she said, pulling out a chair for herself. “A lot of kids didn’t, actually.”

“We felt it was not safe,” said Mrs Weasley as she put a huge plate of sausages on the table. “Eat, dear, you look like you haven’t had a nice meal for weeks.”

You locked eyes with Fred opposite you then you turned away quickly.

“So what happened?” asked Ginny nervously. “Bill only told us that —”

“He didn’t tell us anything,” said Fred, annoyed, but pale. “Tell us, Y/N.”

“I don’t know much, either,” you shook your head. “Luna and Dean appeared with Ollivander. He looked really bad. Then Ron, Hermione and Harry came, too, and a goblin who seemed unconscious.”

“But were they… all right?” asked Mrs Weasley tensely. You remembered how Hermione looked and did a weird little nod.

“They were… alive.”

“Oh!” Mrs Weasley cried out, tears falling from her eyes. Mr Weasley gently stroke her hair.

“So what happens now?” you asked, looking around the table. “With the shop, with your work, with…”

“Don’t worry about that,” said George. “We can figure out a way to work from here.”

“Yeah, a little change of place didn’t stop us before, did it?” said Fred.

“I can’t go back to the Ministry now,” said Mr Weasley. “And Bill has to stay at home, too. But that’s the least of our troubles. What matters is that we’re all safe.”

Outside the sun was rising and you heard birds chirping. After eight months it was rather nice to hear something else than the ocean.

“When you’ve finished, Y/N, I’ve prepared a room for you on the second floor, dear,” said Mrs Weasley. “Would you like to…”

“No,” said George firmly. “She’s staying with me.”

You casted down your eyes, happy, but still afraid of Mrs Weasley’s reaction. However, she didn’t say anything, just nodded and pressed a motherly kiss on your hair when she took your empty plate away.

“Ready?” asked George and you stood up.

“Yeah.”

You were about to enter the hallway when an old lady appeared in the kitchen and spoke in a grumpy voice.

“Is this that muggleborn girl again?” she grimaced. “The one that put weed in her hair?”

“Yeah,” you said awkwardly. “That’s me.”

Aunt Muriel nodded, her lips forming a weird, not exactly kind smile.

“Careful with that boy while in my house, missy. I don’t want any more ginger kids running around, I’m a hundred and seven, I need my time to rest!”

You flushed. George wheezed.

“Come on, don’t pay attention to her,” he said as he put an arm around your shoulders. He led you through the hallway and stopped at a nice, wooden door. “That’s me, next to me is Fred’s,” he said, pointing at different rooms. “We’ll use that one as an office, I reckon it’ll be all right. We’ll figure it out later, but now I need to sleep.”

He seemed really tired indeed. He led you into the room and you sat down onto the edge of the bed. You looked around, not quite sure what to examine; Muriel’s old paintings, her fancy mirror, or the huge dressing table by the window. You felt so out of place. An hour ago you had been trying to sleep at Shell Cottage.

“What is it?” asked George and he sat down next to you. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. You didn’t know how to put your feelings into words. George frowned in concern.

“I’m okay,” you said quickly, choking up. “I just need a minute.”

He nodded and kissed your cheek.

“Do you want to lie down?”

“Yes.”

You quickly kicked off your shoes and climbed into the bed next to him. He welcomed you with open arms, kissing you deeply when your head touched the pillow. He smiled gently. His eyes shined in the color of chocolate.

“We’re together now,” he said when he saw your lips tremble. You sniffled.

“It’s been so long…”

“I know,” he said and you were shocked to see that he was blinking heavily, too. He took a few seconds, then continued. “Sleep now, okay? I can see how tired you are, love.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” you asked. You were afraid that it was nothing but a dream, and waking up alone was the worst thing you could imagine.

“Of course,” George said, his lips brushing against your forehead. “I won’t let you out of my sight ever again.”

✨Viktor i love you,Viktor i do✨

MY BOY ~ Fred Weasley

Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x Fem!reader

Warnings:Angst

A/N: requests are open, this is my first fic please don’t be mean

___________________________

My boy, my boy, my boy. Don’t love me like he promised. My boy, my boy, my boy. He ain’t a man and sure as hell ain’t honest.

Y/n and Fred had been dating for almost five months and for y/n it was the most amazing thing in the world cause she was totally in love with him, she knew he was the one when he first saw him at the burrow when they were 5 and since then he has always being her crush, so five months ago at the start of the 7th year when he confessed his feeling towards y/n she couldn’t believe it, at first she thought it was some kind of prank by the way he said it.

———-

5 months ago

“Y/n i have to tell you something that is a matter of life or death”, Fred said with a grin on his pretty face, she didn’t even was paying attention to what he was saying she was just too mesmerized with his beauty, “Are you listening to me ?, Fred asked seeing that she was not paying attention he decides to go straight to the point, “I was saying that you are my crush”, Fred said with a smirk.

Y/n was astonished everything crossed her mind, “is this for real?”, she said but Fred didn’t answer so she felt right to tell him the truth about her feelings, “Fred i’ve being in love with you since we met when we were five, at first it wqs just a silky crush but we gotbolder and got into hogwarts and i realized it wasn’t just a silly crush, what im trying to say is… im in love with you Fred Weasley”, he didn’t know how to react and he just said “i love you” and hugged her.

_______

My boy’s being sus and he don’t know how to cuss. He just sounds like he’s tryna be his father (Who are you?). My boy’s an ugly crier but he’s such a pretty liar and by that I mean he said he’d “change”.

Everything happened so quick, Fred didn’t realized how fast this was going and now they’ve been dating for five months, “When are you going to tell her the truth?”, George asked Fred not realizing someone was listening, they should have been more careful and not be talking this in the common room where everyone could hear them “I don’t want to tell her, is going to break her heart she is the sweetest girl i know”,Fred said with guilt on his face, “Freddie you don’t love her, you can’t be with her just for pity”, George said annoyed almost screaming,” Yeah? Well this would never have happened if you hadn’t made me do that stupid bet, it’s all your fault”,Fred said angry.

_________

5 months ago

“Freddie im telling you she likes you”,George said while laying in his bed in their dorm, “No she doesn’t,we’ve been friends since forever believe me if she liked me as more than friends i would know dear brother”, Fred said calmly and confident, “well then if you are so sure about that…”, George said with a grin, “Go on..”, “Let’s make a bet, 5 sickles that she is in love with you”, “you’re on”, Fred said with confidence and he was sure that he would win the bet, after all she knew y/n for years.

Fred was walking on the halls of Hogwarts and spot y/n a few meters away, he thought it was the perfect moment to prove George that he was wrong, but when she started telling that she loved him he didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t tell her that it was all a bet and that he wasn’t in love with her, so he told y/n that he loved her too, i mean he wasn’t absolutely lying right?, he did love her but not the way she wanted to.

__________

Y/n wanted to surprise Freddie with a gift from hogsmeade we wanted since forever but he couldn’t afford it, so she started saving some money to give it to him, she was so excited to see his reaction that she couldn’t wait to give it to him and going as fast as she could she went to the common room, she spoted Fred right away, but she heard something that she shouldn’t have heard, “Freddie, you don’t love her, you can’t be with her just for pity”.

She just stood there frozen, astonished, broken, without even realizing she started crying and sobbing, Fred and George turn around and saw y/n standing there crying, “y/n i can explain”, fred said with guilt on his eyes, she didn’t even bother on going away from him, she couldn’t even if she wanted to, Fred tried to explain everything to her but she wasn’t listening she was just wishing that all of this was a nightmare that soon she would wake up and hug Fred and he would comfort her and tell her it was just a bad dream that everything is alright but obviously it didn’t happen, she came out of her trance as soon as she heard Fred said “im sorry but im never going to love you, not the way you want me to”, she didn’t utter a word she just left and went to her dorm.

My boy, my boy, my boy. Don’t love me like he promised. My boy, my boy, my boy. He ain’t a man and sure as hell ain’t honest.

It has been 4 months since y/n’s heart have been broken, she tried to move on, she tried to fool herself into believing she didn’t love him anymore so she started dating other guys but nothing ever lasted, until she started dating Matt a slytherin guy, he treated her well, he was kind, sweet and always gave her flowers, he loved her and she loved him back but she knew she would never be able to love someone the way she loved Freddie.

Fred stood in the hall watching how Matt gave yellow flowers to y/n, her favourite flowers, everytime Fred smell those flowers it reminds him of her, her scent, her laugh and her beauty, he then realized he did loved her as more than friends, but know it was too late because she was happy with someone else and he wouldn’t ruin that for her, he fucked up and there was nothing that he could do about it, it’s not like he could go back in time and fix it all… or can he?.

You want me to be yours well then you gotta be mine. And if you want a good girl, then goodbye. You want me to be yours well then you gotta be mine. And if you want a good girl, then goodbye.

Imagine going for a ride with Oliver Phelps…

Pike (George Weasley)

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.

part one

consumed.

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.

tags:

@justmesadgirl@greyspilot@sunflowerdarlingx

Beta (Fred Weasley)

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.

Maybe beta isn’t so scary after all.

Drivers License Pt. 2 (Ron Weasley)

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. 

Part 1

___________________

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:

“I love you, I always will.”

Here are all the links to my Harry Potter imagines by character!

Ron Weasley

Drivers License ( Part 1/Part 2)

Neville Longbottom

Miscommunication (Part 1 /Part 2 )

Fred Weasley

Beta ( Part 1/Part 2)

George Weasley 

Pike