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#anyway point is ive been getting back into harry potter fanfiction which is a quick process because frankly i knwo my shit
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Last Names. Chapter One
Okay so... I used to write fanfiction all the time and took a break from it a while ago. Ive decided to start it up again and I have decided that I’m going to do so by writing a series of George Weasley x Reader. So Here it is... Chapter one.
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Warnings: Some violence, a few swear words, and a lot of poor English.  
Pairing: George Weasley x Reader
Plot: Not everyone is born to a family with a name to be proud of. As the daughter of two infamous serial killers, Y/N is happy just to be herself, and defend herself and anyone else. Her mysterious and general badass behaviour doesn’t go unnoticed by one of the Weasley twins.
Some people suited their last names. Malfoy and Potter were brilliant examples. Malfoy was just like his family: stuck up, wealthy, racist and a coward. Draco used his last name to his advantage. His name alone made people fear him, knowing the power his father had. Malfoy was perfectly suited to his last name. The story is the same for Harry Potter. While until he was 11 Harry had no idea how important his name was, he lived up to it every day of his life. He was braver than any Malfoy could ever be, smart like his mother, fierce like his father. Potter was every bit a Potter, no doubt about that.
Not everyone matched their last names. Percy Weasley. His family was forever a bundle of laughs, jokes and giggles. His family were not full of themselves, or overly proud, his family were a humble family. Percy was not that. Yes he was just as lovely and as good as a person as his family, but Percy Weasley was not a barrel of laughs and believed himself to be far too important when promoted to position of Prefect. Far too serious for a Weasley.
Y/N was another one who didn’t match her family name. If Y/N had matched her last name she’d be similar to Malfoy. She’d be proud of being a pureblood, believe herself superior. Her idea of a good time would be inflicting pain on the likes of people like Hermione Granger, just because she could. If Y/N was like her last name and the others who bore it, she’d not use her level of intellect to assist others but much rather use it to take over the world and spread nothing but hate. Y/N was not like this.
Y/N like her family name suggested was confident, sure of herself and cunning to the core. With a quick tongue and a sharpened wit, Y/N was similar to her family, but that was where the similarities ended quickly. Y/N was a model student. She spent her Saturdays tutoring the younger students on all subjects from Potions to Arithmancy. On Friday’s she was often seen with Madam Pince in the Library, quietly working away at reorganising the books left in disarray by students studying. Tuesdays and Thursdays were her own revision days where, weather permitted, after her classes were done she’d quietly sit by herself by the lake or in the courtyard, books around her, quill in hand and notes messily written across parchment. It was fair to say Y/N was not much like her family name would suggest, perhaps being raised by her aunt and uncle, the Tonks, had something to do with it. Maybe Y/N was just simply not like her family.
However, no matter how nice of a person she was, some people failed to see past her last name, failed to see past the damage that her mother and father had done to innocent people. In her third year it became more apparent that not everyone saw her as the nice person she was, when both had reportedly broken free from their prison, much like Sirius Black. While many had simply not cared about who she was, some of her fellow students, many within her own house, held her personally accountable for any damage that her family had done. Those in her own house of Slytherin often called her a traitor, saying not only was she a blood traitor but a traitor to her own family. Y/N by this point in her life was over it, listening to the wise words of her cousin and adopted sister, Nymphadora (or Dora to her), she had decided long ago that as long as she was happy and a good person everyone else's opinions were meaningless to her.  Which is why what happened to her did not phase her much.
“Oi, Lestrange!” A voice shouted from behind her as she walked towards the great hall. “Your gonna be just like your parents one day! Wait and see! You’ll be killin’ people left, right and centre.” The young boy laughed among his friends, failing to notice the girl who he had tried to engage with stop quickly in front of them, hand her bag to the girl who had been walking with her and turn sharply on her heel. The laughter continued until before anyone had realised what had happened, the boy was pushed to the nearest wall pinned down by her leg and arm as it pressed against his neck. Without missing a beat, her heart racing in her chest, she spat,
“If you really believe I’m going to turn out like them I’d keep your thoughts to yourself.” She edged her knee further into his groin, got in closer to his ear and said, “pissing off a potential serial killer is not a smart move. You’re now top of my list.” Without even a second glance she released him from her vice like grip, letting him fall to the floor as she spun back around, smiled at her friend and continued onto the great hall.
While she had been careful to make sure no teachers were present to witness her sudden outburst, she had not been paying attention to the students who were around her. To her, the students who saw just received their warning. Do not fuck with me. However one of the students who had seen the scene unfold as he as his brother walked towards their dinner, had not taken the hint. Much rather he took it as a challenge.
Y/N was well known around the school. People were either talking about her good deeds or the last student who had crossed her path and how they had been flawed and utterly humiliated, often left crying on the ground.  It was hard not to know who she was, but damn near impossible to get to know her. Although that hadn’t yet stopped George Weasley from trying.
In his third year, George and his brother had watched as the then first year Y/N had taken a fellow Slytherin student, Pansy Parkinson, by the hair for calling her a blood traitor. Later that same week he’d seen her comfort a weeping Neville Longbottom after the loss of his toad once again. In years to come the infamous Weasley twins had watched Y/N as she defended herself and those around her, incapable of doing so themselves. George alone had watched as she studied by herself in the courtyard, telling his brother he just wanted some alone time so he could watch the mysterious girl silently or without judgement. Y/N intrigued George, she seemed to be the sweetest girl when she was helping teachers or helping first years with Transfiguration homework, but suddenly became a vengeful warrior when the time called for it.
George on many occasions, sometimes with Fred, sometimes alone, had tried to talk to Y/N. It never ended in a conversation longer than five minutes. Often Y/N had places to be or felt as though the pair were up to something, so politely left the conversations. Since the first time he had seen her he had simply wanted to get to know her, but had yet to have the pleasure.
“George mate, close your mouth, you’re starting to catch flies,” his brother chuckled as he began to walk towards the great hall much like he had originally intended before stopping to see what was going on. “You’ve got to stop staring at her all the time, you’re gonna freak the poor girl out.”
“Oh shut up, I was not staring at her. Well not in that way anyway,” George hit his brother on the shoulder as he caught up, “I was simply shocked by what happened. It’s not like its every day you see a kid get shown up like that. I was impressed.”
“Georgie, you’re impressed every time you see that Lestrange girl. Don’t think I don’t know that your purposely go to the library on a Friday to see her packing away books,” Fred may not have said anything until know but that didn’t mean he didn’t realise what was going on with his brother. He had a crush. A crush on a girl two years younger than him. A crush on a girl who could bring him to the floor with one well planned kick. A crush on a Lestrange. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe that the reason you wanted us to talk to her all those times was simply because she’d be ‘good to have onside.’ What kind of fool do you think I am?” Fred laughed as they sat down at the Gryffindor table, opposite of their friend Lee.
“Hey,” Lee beamed at the twins, “Quidditch season starts soon. You two excited?”
“Of course,” smiled back Fred through a mouthful of chicken. George on the other hand was not really thinking about the conversation at the table he was sat at, much rather the one on the furthest side of the hall. Y/N was sat there, not really with anyone, but not really alone. Rather than joining in the chit chat occurring around her she simply ate her meal, listening to the chatter of others instead of being a part of it. George wondered why she decided not talk, her friends clearly wanted her to be involved in the conversation.
George continued to watch Y/N until she got up to leave, not the first in the hall, but certainly the first from her end of the table. With only a nod to her friends, she got up, flattened out her robe and skirt and made her way out of the hall. George watched as she left, right up until the point he could no longer see her around the corner. He wanted to know where she had gone.
“Erm… I’m just gonna go to the toilet. I’ll meet you back in the common room … yeah,” he spoke quickly to his brother as he got up to leave, not really waiting for a response from his twin. Fred and Lee watched as Georges pace picked up towards the door, watching until the last flash of red hair had disappeared from sight.
“He’s smitten and he’s only ever said three words to her,” Fred laughed as he ate another slice of cake from the stand in front of him, a stand that never seemed to empty.
“Clearly. Does he know how pathetic he looks? And trying to say he’s going to the toilet just so he can follow her, does he think we're stupid? I can’t believe he’s gone and fallen for a Lestrange too. Can you believe it?” Lee mocked a offeded voice, as he fanned himself with his hand. Fred chuckled,
“I can actually. Trust my brother to fall for a girl who has no interest in him and whose parents would kill him in a heartbeat.”
Outside the great hall, George tried to follow her path, or at least the path he had imagined she would have taken. For a fourth year girl she was unpredictable, hard to find because of her random approach to life. His pace picked up, his heart hammered in his chest, his lungs began to work harder take shallow breaths, as his walk became a jog, and the jog became a run. George began to forget even where he was, just trying to imagine a path in which she may have taken.  For one moment George forgot to look where he was running, only quickly glancing into open rooms and down smaller passageways. It was in this moment he found himself very quickly bumping into something. No, someone.
His body has ran full speed into someone considerably smaller than himself as he went to turn a corner, knocking not only himself onto the floor with a thud, but who ever the innocent victim was.
“Fuck,” he said as he landed awkwardly on his leg. After dislodging himself from the human pretzel shape he had landed in he began to get up, brushing off the dust as he went. “Ugh I’m so sorry, I was looking for someone but clearly was not looking where I was actually going. I am so sorry. Here let me give you a hand,” George, still brushing himself off said, still without knowing who it was he had just ran into. As he looked away from his now crinkled robes, he looked down to see who it was that was also on the floor, starting to dust themselves off.
“No its okay I’ve got this,” the girl giggled. George said nothing as the girl slowly stood brushing herself off in a similar fashion that he had done himself. “Accidents happen, I’ve often ran full speed into other people before, normally knocking them down on the way. No big deal,” Georges heart raced as he looked down at the now smiling Y/N, still brushing herself clean.
“Oh my … Y/N right?” George stammered, his heart throbbing in his chest.
“Thats me,” Y/N smiled up at him. George was inwardly kicking himself. In an attempt to catch up to this mysterious girl, play it cool and maybe get her to actually talk to him, he had managed to nearly knock her out on a wall. “You’re one of the Weasley twins right? Fred and George isn’t it?”
“You know who I am?”
“Everyone knows who you two are,” she laughed. “I’m sorry I have to admit I’m not sure which one you are though.”
“George. I’m George Weasley, the better twin,” George smiled back at her. Slowly George regained his composure, heart still beating in his chest, he was able to gain a little bit more of that Weasley charm he had been known for. “The much better looking twin.”
“The clumsier twin too clearly. Who were you looking for that was important enough to make you run that quickly?”
“My brother.” He lied.
“Which one? Aren’t you like one of 7? That’s a very big family,” she smiled up as him as she collected her bag from the floor. “I bet family dinners are fun at yours.”
“Yeah there's a few of us,” George replied. “Bill and Charlie don’t live at home anymore though so it’s currently just the five of kids, and mum and dad. It’s certainly never quiet in our house.” Y/N laughed with him, that soft kind of laugh, one one where the subject matter is not really funny but a small laugh makes it sound like you understand.
“Thats nice. My family is kinda small, so its relatively quiet at ours. I bet you have lots of fun stories about your family to tell,” she smiled, her eyes looking right into his. George had calmed down somewhat not, and while his heart was still beating awfully heavily, he had regained enough composer and confidence to simply smile down to her and say,
“I do. So many. Maybe I could tell you about them sometime, over a butterbeer? Maybe this weekend?” For a moment everything stopped slightly, as he waited impatiently for her response. He knew his idea for a day together had been rather sudden, probably worryingly sudden for her, but he couldn't not ask. If there was a chance that she would say yes to spending a day with him then he’d take the risk of being rejected. “My treat.”
“You’re in luck Mr Weasley. Usually I tutor on Saturday’s, but they wanted to go to a Muggles study extra class to watch a film so I’m free. I would like very much to hear more about your family over a butterbeer this weekend,” Y/N said with a beautiful smile, a smile George would love to see again and again. George couldn’t have been more pleased than he was in that moment.
“Perfect.”
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