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fweasleyswhore · 4 years

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Special To Me: Fred Weasley

requested by @fantastic-fans

a/n is it obvious I have a special spot for goblet of fire fred/george aka long hair times, uh yes. would i want it any other way? uh, no. sorry to my cedric stannies out there - but i think the transition from the fourth to fifth movie where their hair had been chopped off hurt more than cedrics death.

Pairing: Fred x fem!reader / Potter!reader

Summary: Reader struggles to feel significant compared to her twin brother (Harry Potter). These feelings make it hard for her to deal with her growing crush on Fred.

Word Count: 14.9K (i said i liked the idea and yes i did)

Warnings: a tad of angst and self deprecating thoughts (if you are struggling feel free to dm me and talk)

“But…” My eyes looked across the Great Hall table at Harry. His eyes were as wide as mine, shock was evident on his features much as my own. Had the situation been less serious we would have been teased about it, but this was anything but a laughable situation.

I felt Hermione’s hand on mine and she squeezed gently. I could see her looking at me through the corner of my eye but my eyes did not leave my twins. Again? He was constantly being pushed around, things being thrown at him but this year but we figured, this year would be ok.

“Blimey Harry, mind telling us how you didn’t grow a beard but put your name in?” George joked. I barely processed it and before I could punch him Dumbledore spoke again.

“Harry Potter, would you please come up here?” Harry looked at me, then to Ron and Hermione.

“I didn’t put my name in.” He rushed out. His voice was shaky and his eyes began to gloss over. “I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.”

I couldn’t respond. I was still just shocked.

“It’s ok Harry, we know. Go up there.” Hermione urged. She squeezed my hand again which grounded me. I hadn’t noticed that she hadn’t let go until she did that. My hand squeezed back. Not faltering but squeezing harder as I watched Harry walk up to Dumbledore, he tripped a few times but caught himself. My gaze didn’t leave him even after he went through the door at the edge of the Great Hall with the other champions. I sat there frozen.

“Love? Did you know he put his name in the cup?” Fred’s voice took me out of my trance. I stopped peering over Hermione’s head and turned to my side. His hand came up and held my shoulder, rubbing gently.

“No, I didn’t,” I spoke. My mind was racing a million minutes a second. I couldn’t stop thinking of our first night back at Hogwarts. Harry and I sat on the floor of the common room, a comfortable silence between us. We had both agreed that this year was going to be good. We both agreed that we were going to have a relaxed year, not push ourselves but enjoy the time at home before we went back to Uncle Vernon. He promised to stop worrying me, of course, I knew that it wasn’t his fault but it still made me feel some sort of peace. “He said he didn’t.” I could feel my eyes tear up. I’m not sure if it was the anger, the confusion, or the fear that set in that was causing it. “Oh don’t cry…” Fred pleaded. His hand that was rubbing my shoulder moved and he pulled me into his chest. I dropped Hermione’s hand and balled my hands around his sweater. He squeezed me tighter to his chest and rubbed my back as I came undone in his hands. I pulled back so my head was no longer pressed against him.

“Why is it always him?!” I nearly shouted. Friends who weren’t watching me come undone before definitely were now. Ron scoffed at my remark and rolled his eyes.

“My thoughts exactly.” He spoke snarkily before grabbing his things and leaving. My teary eyes watched him walk away. I looked at Hermione hoping maybe she understood but she held the same confusion as me. She sent me a sympathetic look before collecting her own things, squeezing my shoulder, and running after Ron.

“Foul git…” George mumbled. He brought his hand around Fred to give my shoulder a squeeze and send me a sympathetic gaze. I returned it and rested my head back on Fred’s chest. His arms were still holding me and that I was thankful for, he brought me in closer and sighed.

“Do you think they are going to make him play? People die in this competition...” I whispered to him.

He rested his head on top of mine and whispered back. “I’m not sure. It’s always something with you Potters isn’t it.” I couldn’t stop myself from laughing, he was right, sadly it was always us.

I brought my head up to look at him. If he wasn’t holding me I would’ve collapsed, his face was much closer than I thought and our noses almost touched. My face was flushing, I could feel it but I continued.

“Talk a lot yourself, Weasley. I could argue that you have more going on than us.” His smile was intoxicating, I couldn’t refrain from smiling back. Just like that my mood lightened. This was one of the many reasons I loved being around Fred Weasley, he just brings so much happiness into the world. In the worst situations I couldn’t help but find myself smiling because of him.

“Oh, you could? Because...” He leaned in after trailing off, my breath hitched. I was frozen as he leaned in so his lips ghosted over my ear. “You, are all I got going on.” He whispered, my face flushed and I could feel him smirking at me, confident in his ability to make me flush at the smallest things. I pushed my face into his chest again.

“I just want one quiet year,” I spoke into his chest. His arms tightened around me as he began to rub small circles into my back.

“I know. I know.” He spoke into my head. I could feel the vibrations of him talking in his chest. And even though there was hell all around us, I felt safe. I felt safe with him holding me. I tried to push down the bubbling in my stomach. This was our thing, we flirt, we joke but we are friends. He’s comforting a friend, that’s all. I pushed the thoughts aside, getting overwhelmed again wasn’t going to help my already anxious mood.

“We should, erm, go back to the common room.” George’s voice took me out of my trance. Untangling myself from Fred I looked around. Almost everyone had left the Great Hall. A few people stayed finishing up their meals or conversations. Looking around I saw Cedric’s friend group waiting for him.

“Come on, Harry can meet us in the common room,” Fred said standing. He and George outstretched their hands. I rubbed my eyes and rolled them at them before standing and wrapping my arms around theirs. “Attagirl.” Fred said after I linked our arms, earning a laugh from George and jab in the side from me.

Sitting in front of the fire I let my mind wander. Hermione could be heard in the dorms arguing with Ron and I didn’t really want to get in the middle of it. Behind me, Fred and George were talking about a prank they were planning. All around the common room, there was chatter, everyone was doing something, talking to someone, but I couldn’t bring myself to join.

Harry’s name was picked from the cup.

I tried to think back on the day. I was with him practically the whole time, the times I wasn’t Hermione and Ron were. None of us saw him put his name in the cup yet his name got picked. People died in the game. “This challenge isn’t for the weary of the heart, mind you, be absolutely sure you want this before entering your name. The rules have been altered but in the past champions have died. I do not expect any of us will be saying goodbye to our friends but I would not take this lightly.”

“Too bad they have the age limit, Harry you would win that thing so easily.” Ron piped in between bites.

“I think I have enough things trying to kill me in challenges I didn’t sign up for. Don’t think I would enter even if I could.” Harry shot back. He smiled at me from across the table and I remembered our promise, I smiled back.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Hermione asked softly, sitting down beside me. Her voice brought me back to the present as her knees hit my legs that I was hugging to my chest. I sighed and leaned back onto the couch where Fred and George were sitting, bumping Fred’s legs slightly.

“We agreed to have a quiet year,” I spoke slowly, a stark contrast to the thoughts inside my head that seemed to be swimming at 100 mph. “Quiet and good. And I understand this isn’t his fault. He didn’t put his name in but he is so tired ‘Mione. I don’t know how much of this he can take.” My voice began to break and tears welled up in my eyes for the second time that night. I was so tired of watching him get broken down to nothing and then being expected to piece himself together again. After last year where we met Sirius, we had hoped that we would be able to run off with him, live with him maybe. But the ministry is still doing everything in their power to capture him, so Harry and I had to go back to Uncle Vernon. Sirius sends us letters and communicates when he can but it still hurts not having him around. It especially hurt Harry. He had this whole life in the countryside dreamt up where we lived with Sirius and after Peter got away he was shattered. That summer I made sure to take more blows from Dudley. Usually, I got away with it being a “lady”, Aunt Petunia made sure to teach her son not to hurt girls, Dudley never saw me as a girl though, I don’t think Aunt Petunia did either but I wasn’t going to argue with it.

“Hey, don’t cry. Listen, tiring yourself isn’t going to help him. If you want a quiet year come hell or high water I will do everything in my power to make sure you get that.” She smiled and looked into my eyes, her eyes held a sense of security I longed for.

“Oh ‘Mione,” I wrapped myself around her in a tight embrace. I knew she wasn’t expecting it but she hugged me back slowly. “Thank you.” I whispered. She nodded into my shoulder.

A few hours passed and I calmed my swimming mind with the work I had been putting off over the summer that was going to be due at the end of the week. Small introductory papers going over what we learned last year. Not difficult but time consuming.

“I think I am going to head to bed.” Hermione spoke. I looked up, it was just us two. George was gone and Fred was sprawled out on the couch behind me, snoring slightly. I giggled at the sight of him, his long legs trying to stay on the couch.

“All right ‘Mione. I think I’m gonna stay and finish this. Wait for Harry to get in.” She nodded and rubbed my shoulder as she stood.

“Wake me up if anything happens or you need to talk.” I nodded and she set off up the stairs. I stood too. Stretching after being curled inward onto myself my joints began to hurt. I walked around the common room blowing out stray candles and tidying up slightly. I went back to my position in front of the couch to finish my potions essay on the new ingredients we learned last year highlighting their properties and effects.

“This is rubbish.” I laughed to myself reading the first few paragraphs. I honestly didn’t remember much from last year. I suppose that's what happens when you meet your criminal godfather and your friend's rat turns out to be one of Voldemort's henchmen.

While making notes on the margins of my essay I heard the portrait hole open. I turned to see Harry walk in, Fred turned slightly but didn’t wake. He didn’t register my eyes on him and he walked wearily towards the boys dorm entrance.

“Harry?” I whispered. He turned around, his pained face made a small smile when he recognized me.

“Oh Y/N!” He rushed over to me and collapsed in my arms. His body wrinkled my papers but I didn’t mind. I was just as fast to grab him back and hold him tightly. Soon I felt my neck grow wet as he heaved in my arms. I rubbed circles into his back and held him tighter.

He pulled back. “Erm, sorry.” He sniffled and rubbed at his face.

“You never have to apologize to me.” I sent him a comforting smile. “They’re making you play?” Although it was a question it sounded more like a statement. Deep down I already knew but I didn’t want to admit it.

“Yeah, so much for a quiet year I guess.” He let out a forced laugh, it sent a wave of pain to see him so broken. He stared at his hands in his lap and sniffled a few times. I looked back at the fire.

“I wish we were the chosen one’s.” I said quietly. “Just to take some of the burden off of-” “Do not ever say that.” He cut me off. I turned to him, his red eyes were wide and his face was full of grief. “Never.” “But Harry-” I tried but to no avail he cut me off again.

“No. I mean it. Half of the time the one thing that keeps me going is knowing that you are ok. Y/N if you had to fight this battle too I think I would break. I want to keep you safe.” He spoke slowly. His voice was lower and I could tell he genuinely felt this way. He grabbed my hands and I nodded.

“It’s not fair, it's always you.” I countered. I knew he was right but I didn’t want to stand idly by while he risked his life for me. “I understand you want to protect me, so you have to understand that I want to do the same. Harry this isn’t just your fight. We will fight with you, you just got roped in as our leader. I will do everything in my power to take even a miniscule amount of that burden off of you.” He was quiet. I looked into his eyes but his eyes were staring at our hands. His eyes were swirling much like how I imagined his head to be right then.

“When I lost you at the World Cup there was a split second I thought you died.” He hung his head even more if that was possible. “I couldn’t bear it Y/N and I knew if it happened it would've been my fault and-” This time I cut him off. I hugged him again and I felt him shake in my arms. I was mentally cursing the world for putting its weight on his shoulders. It wasn’t fair to him.

I pulled back enough so he could see my face. “Never in a million years blame yourself. It’s not and never will be your fault ok. Besides that only proves my point, this isn’t your fight alone.” I gestured to the sleeping form on the couch behind us.

That night rang through my head as I did so. I had linked arms with Hermione and Harry. The twins and Ginny were behind us. We were all trying desperately to find cover and we got pulled in different directions. Hermione’s arm became unlinked with mine and she trailed off with Ron and I got pushed down with Harry.

Scrambling to get up I looked around and Harry was gone. I began to scream his name but too many people were running and my yells were drowned out in the screams. Immediately I felt my body tense up and shake as panic set in. I figured my best shot was to go in the direction we were headed before I got split up from everyone. Trying to push through the crowd was hard, I was shoved around and soon I was sure my shoulders were bruised from the sheer amount of times I got shoved backwards by someone.

A loud scream echoed in the space. I looked around trying to find its origin when a couple tall men ran right into me. They didn’t even register it as they ran right on top of me. Digging their heels into my skin and kicking me. I tried to move when one of them kicked me directly in the head. I crawled into myself, cradling my head and waiting for the group to pass. The burning sensation in my shoulders now spread to my neck and I could feel the blood on my hands as I held my head.

I stood up shakily, nearly falling again as a wave of dizziness swarmed me. My vision was spinning but I tried my best to trudge forward in the direction I thought was the right way.

“Y/N.” I blinked, I know I just heard my name but I can’t see anyone around. “Y/N!”

My head injury must be getting to me. I looked at my feet which were having a hard time moving forward when I heard it again. I tried to turn around but something caught me.

Right then my feet were hoisted off the ground and my abdomen was squeezed. I yelled out and elbowed towards my back trying to fight off my attacker. I was set down and before I could run away strong hands were spinning me around. Immediately recognizing him I jumped into Fred’s arms and he lifted me up. I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist. The pain I was feeling faded to the back of my mind as he held me.

“I thought we lost you.” He whispered in my ear. “Never do that again.” “I didn’t try to.” I whispered back. He laughed shallowly.

“I know, just, I don’t want to lose you.” He whispered. His grip on me tightened. The familiar feeling of butterflies erupted in my stomach, something I always felt when he was near. Even though he had been running around he still smelled like cinnamon and fireworks.

“You didn’t lose me Freddie. Never have, never will.” I whispered back. My grip equally tightened trying to communicate the feelings I have felt for a while.

He squeezed me again then set me down. I stood on my shaky legs trying to remain balanced. “Let’s go.” he whispered. Keeping up with him on a normal day was hard; this was damn near impossible.

Fred was tugging at my wrist, he had linked our hands together so I wouldn’t get lost again. I followed him, tripping every now and then but he always caught me. After what felt like hours we managed to the woods where we met with Hermione, Ron, Ginny and George. Immediately Hermione hugged me.

“I can’t breath.” I barely muttered to get out between pants.

“I thought that you had been trampled or…” She trailed off and looked behind me. I turned around but only saw the forest. “Where’s Harry?”

“I thought he was with you?” I looked around. Each Weasley held a similar look on their face of confusion as they looked between themselves then back to us.

Ron walked up to us. “I’ll go find him.” He squeezed my shoulder and looked between me and Hermione. “I’m coming.” Hermione piped up.

“Me too.” I said brushing myself off. They both looked at me like I was insane. “What?!”

“Y/N, you’re bleeding.” Fred said. I had forgotten he was still next to me. He gently grasped at my cheek to turn my head towards him as he inspected the cut on my forehead.

“I bet you all are bleeding. So what? I’m fine, I'm coming.” I pulled out of his gentle touch, immediately feeling cold.

“Your neck is bruised…” Hermione spoke. Again I could feel Fred’s hands on me. He trailed his fingers down the side of my neck, slightly pulling on the collar of my shirt as he inspected my injuries. I could hear him hiss while looking at them but I kept my eyes on Hermione.

“Y/N you could barely keep up with me on our way here. Just stay, please?” Fred’s hand had continued its tour of my body and it brushed my arm as he reached down to grab my hand. I finally peeled my gaze toward his. He was beautiful, his eyes were pleading, his grip tightened slightly so I hung my head in defeat.

“Please be safe.” I looked between Ron and Hermione. He nodded and she smiled before they ran out toward the direction of screams and fire.

I watched them until they disappeared behind some trees.

“Come sit love.” Fred said and he pulled me over to a tree trunk with a base to barely fit the two of us. Once I sat he began inspecting my face again, then my neck and shoulders. Occasionally I would flinch or gasp as he uncovered a new injury or an especially tender bruise, immediately mumbling a ‘sorry’ he would halt his actions before continuing.

He slouched against the tree beside me. I could feel his gaze on me but I kept my eyes trained on the forest where Hermione and Ron had walked out of a few minutes ago.

“You look horrible.” He said. I turned to him with a look of disbelief.

“Gee thanks, only nearly got killed a little while ago.” I shot back. His eyes widened as he realized what he said.

“No! No! Not like that. You’re beautiful I just mean-” I didn’t hear what else he said as I burst out laughing. He looked so panicked it was both heartwarming and hilarious.

“I’m messing Freddie. I know what you mean.” I brought my hand up to ruffle his hair. He huffed and rolled his eyes but he was smiling. I finally looked around us. Across from us a few trees to my right Ginny and George were snoring and leaning on each other. I giggled at the sight and realized how tired I was at that moment.

I yawned and tried to shift around to a comfortable position, something this tree was not allowing me to do. Fred watched me and snickered to himself. I looked up, catching him trying to stifle a laugh as I tried my third position, but gave up and turned so my back was against the tree again.

“Maybe I could get comfortable if your big butt wasn’t in the way.” I shot at him playfully. Looking towards him.

“I’ll have you know I have a tiny butt.” He said leaning down so we were eye level.

“Your butt looks big from where I’m sitting.” I shoot back. He rolls his eyes and smirks at me.

“If my enormous arse is taking up so much of your room why don’t you just sit on me then.” He patted his legs. “According to you I have enough butt to share so I figured I might as well.” He raised his brows at me and it hit me he wasn’t joking. My face warmed up and I prayed he couldn’t see it under the layer of dirt on my face. “Well?” He asked, smoothing out his trousers.

I mustered up my courage and crawled on top of him. I sat on him sideways and rested my head in the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around me immediately. I sighed into him. My pain and uncomfort drifted away as my eyes drifted shut.

“Fred?” He moved his face so he could see me. I didn’t move my head, just brought my hand up to rest on his chest, he understood and rested his head back against the tree.. I could feel his heartbeat in his chest and it made me smile. He hummed in response. “Thank you. Not only for getting me tonight but all the times you just…” I trailed off. I didn’t think before I spoke but I knew what I was trying to say so I continued. “You always make me smile. Thank you.”

His arms tightened around me, and he placed a kiss onto the top of my head. I could feel myself blush so I pushed my head farther into his neck.

“Of course Y/N. Anything for you, love.” I smiled at the nickname. I felt safe as I drifted off. Even the distant screams didn’t disturb me, I focused on Fred’s heart beating under my hand and his hands rubbing small circles in my sides.

“Still haven’t properly thanked him for that.” Harry’s voice brought me back to the present and I smiled at him. That night was terrifying yes, but it's also something I think fondly about in retrospect. It showed how we all cared for each other, jumping up to protect one another, a lot of times I don’t feel like I fit in, that I’m the annoying sister who's included because she doesn’t have any friends. But after that night I realized I do have friends and they are all around me.

“You really should. Poor bloke carried me while I slept and took care of my cuts.” I looked over my shoulder and smiled at Fred’s sleeping figure.

Harry laughed and nodded. A comfortable silence fell between us as we stared at the fire.

“It’s gonna be ok Harry.” I spoke, my voice sounded confident, more confident than I felt inside.

“I know, just gotta get through it first I reckon.” He smiled at me. I nodded and smiled back. “I’m gonna head to bed, love you Y/N.”

“Love you too.” As he walked away I gathered my papers and tried to get them to lay flat but to no avail they were crumpled. I groaned and threw them in my bag and began to walk upstairs.

I ran down the stairs remembering Fred. He was still curled up on the couch snoring softly. I laughed to myself and gently woke him up.

“Fred, love, you should go upstairs.” He groaned and turned to face me. His long hair was a mess and his face was peaceful, he looked amazing, even then.

“Did Harry come in?” I nodded and he groaned again this time while standing, when he stretched his shirt rode up ever so slightly exposing his midriff. My cheeks burned as I looked at his toned torso and the small trail of ginger hair that stopped at his trousers. “Are you alright?”

I looked up to him and swallowed. His eyes showed genuine concern and I mentally slapped myself for drooling over him right in front of him. Luckily though, he didn’t notice.

I nodded. “Harry and I talked, we’re gonna push through.”

“With my help of course.” He smiled down at me.

I rolled my eyes but I couldn’t help but smile back. “I figured that was implied.” I said smugly, poking his chest.

“It better be.” He whispered. His voice was deep and drowsy and it sent a wave through me that made me shiver. I swallowed and looked back up to him.

“Goodnight Fred.” I leaned up on my toes to kiss his cheek. He looked at me stunned. I couldn’t tell if he was blushing from shock or embarrassment so I turned around and walked up the girls dormitory stairs. Why did I do that?

Barely audible I heard him yell after me. “G-Goodnight Y/N!” I smiled, falling asleep thinking of Fred. The weight of my conversation with Harry was gone, I felt dizzy like I was floating. All because of a certain redhead downstairs.

“Dragons! You have got to be joking.” I yelled.

We were steadily approaching the first task. When Hermione wasn’t studying she was helping Harry and I figure out what the tasks were going to be. Hermione was trying to split her time between us and Ron, I was trying to split my time between them and the twins, to say I felt overwhelmed was an understatement. Classes began to pick up in workload and I could barely imagine the stress that Harry was feeling.

“You could be a howler with a voice like that.” George quipped from his usual spot on the couch. I looked up at him and sent him a glare, he put his hands up defensively. “I’m right, it’s a compliment, look you would be much more effective than those damned things, that scared me!”

I rolled my eyes. “Your poor mum has sent you so many howlers, your saying not once did they scare you?” George shrugged and I looked back to Harry in front of me.

“He’s lying you know.” Fred whispered to me. I was sitting on the floor in between his legs where I usually sat. I turned my head to see him better. He glanced at George before leaning down to me again. “I once saw him cry after we got sent one. He was real torn up about it-”

Suddenly George hopped on Fred. I moved away from the couch partially to get a better view of them fighting and partially to not get hit by the flying limbs.

“Ugh would you two stop it! We have a real issue here!” Hermione stood up and hit them both with the book in her hands. George rubbed the back of his head where she had hit him as he sat back down and Fred hissed as he cradled his leg. They both sat back down, George glaring daggers into Fred, occasionally muttering something about him being a ‘Lying git’.

Hermione sat back down next to Harry.

“Is this what the brown dragon looked like?” She asked, pointing to a picture in the book. Harry examined it for a minute before speaking.

“Sure looks a lot more like it than the other ones.” Scratching the back of his neck he looked at her but she was busy reading about the dragon. They started to argue on if Harry had seen scales or skin and I tuned out, looking back over to the twins.

Fred caught my eye and he motioned for me to come back, sitting in my normal position again I smiled as he began to run his fingers through my hair.

“Does it matter much if its scales or skin? I mean, it's a dragon, they have a list of traits they all share, why don’t we tackle that before anything specific.” I interrupted their argument. They both looked at me. Hermione looked like she had swallowed something sower and I laughed to myself at the expression she had. She was about to speak before Harry intervened.

“Brilliant. What’s a common theme?” Hermione rolled her eyes and shut her book aggressively. She picked up spare parchment and a quill and started making a list.

“Well the fiery breath is something to be concerned about.” Fred said. I nodded along with him.

“And the massive talons that will rip you to shreds.” George added. Hermione glared at him and threw a pillow at him. “I’m not wrong!” He said removing the pillow from his face, everyone except Hermione laughed.

“Distraction and Execution. That’s what you need to plan on. I’ve watched these idiots do the same things over and over again and it’s always worked.” I said lifting a hand to point at Fred and George. “Well mostly worked but that’s not the point.” I laughed, George leaned over and flicked my shoulder and Fred ruffled my hair.

“Just use a strength of yours mate, what are you good at?” Fred asked.

Harry looked down at the ground in front of him, muttering things to himself and moving his hands. “I think I’m a fair flyer.”

My jaw dropped “Fair!?” He looked at me worriedly.

“Harry you’re an amazing flyer. Fair barely sums it up.” Hermione said. He looked at us smiling but then his smile dropped. “I’m not allowed a broom.” He said running his hands through his long hair. I frowned.

“You’re allowed a wand, use it.” Fred said. His hands now rested on my shoulders as he leaned in to talk to Harry. Not even thinking I brought my hand up to rest on his. I noticed when he squeezed my hand. I looked up and he smiled at me, I smiled back, relaxing my hand as his wrapped around mine.

“Oh and I’m supposed to hop around with my wand between my legs and hope that makes me fly?” He said rather exacerbated. I knew it was getting to him but now I noticed it. The dark circles under his red eyes. His nails were unkempt, he was picking at them because he was stressed.

“No mate, use a summoning spell.” Fred spoke again. He looked at Fred like he was insane.

“There is a spell for that?” I laughed along with the twins, Harry didn’t believe him.

“There is a spell for everything, uh here.” George lifted his wand while talking. “Accio quill.” Just then Hermione’s quill jumped from her hand and into George’s. Harry watched bewildered. “Here you go, sorry about that.” George said bending over to hand Hermione her quill back who was currently glaring at him. I laughed to myself, poor girl needs to loosen up.

“So if I said ‘Accio Firebolt’ my broom would come to me?” Harry asked. George and Fred nodded and I laughed at his excitement.

Our good banter went quiet as the portrait hole opened. We all turned toward the sound seeing Ron walk in. He looked at all of us avoiding Harry, I sent him a small smile and gestured to the empty space next to me. He stopped for a moment, looking torn, then he looked at Harry and scoffed and rushed up to his room.

Harry focused back on the floor suddenly finding it really interesting. It must suck to have to room with someone so mean I thought. “Don’t worry, he’ll come around.” George spoke obviously trying to diffuse the tension.

“He better!” Hermione nearly yelled. We all looked to see her face turning red. “He’s acting like- like-” She looked around suddenly at a loss for words. “A huge baby!” She finally exclaimed. We all nodded, not trying to further poke the bear.

“I’m going to go talk to him.” She huffed and ran up the dormitory stairs. Harry yelled after her, trying to tell her it wasn’t worth it but I don’t think she listened. Soon enough he had disappeared up the stairs too, leaving me with the twins.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a minute before I felt Fred’s hand slip from mine. I tried to not act disappointed as I let my hand fall back into my lap. Suddenly I felt two hands firmly grasp my waist and I was being hoisted up onto the couch. I squirmed out of Fred’s grasp who was laughing at my red face. George was laughing too but I was focussed on Fred.

“And what was that for?!” I yelled.

“There’s space on the couch, figured you got tired of the floor.” He said in between chuckles.

“Well you could have asked!” I smacked his arm playfully at his antics. I couldn’t even stay mad at him, his smile was too intoxicating.

“Besides we wanted to let you in on-” Fred started.

‘A very special and-” George continued.

“Secret plan.” Fred finished.

I looked between the two. The both held a very serious look on their face which I couldn’t help but giggle at, it was so out of character for them to be serious.

“You two will be the death of me won’t you?” I asked.

“Maybe.” They said in unison which made me laugh harder than before.

It was the day of the first task, I was seated in between Fred and Hermione in my usual seat at breakfast shoving food in my mouth as fast as possible.

“Y/N, please slow down, you are starting to look like Ron.” Hermione said, obviously a little disgusted. Ron’s head whipped up from across the table where he was chewing down on his sausage.

“What?!” He asked. Hermione rolled her eyes and I laughed in between bites.

Once I was satisfied I looked at her. “Sorry, I’m trying to get down to the field as fast as possible to see Harry and also help these two.” I pointed behind me. Their very special secret plan was a portable gambling station to bet on the players. I told them that it was kinda messed up they were betting on our friends being put in life threatening situations, something they rolled their eyes at. After a few promises of chocolate frogs and butterbeer for ‘the next month’, I agreed happily.

Hermione looked at the twins with a disapproving look that they didn’t catch. Her seriousness made me laugh. “See you out there?” I asked. She nodded and I stood up wrapping a scarf around my neck and dragging George away from his bacon and out to the field.

I walked around the pitch, directing people to where Fred and George were collecting bets and finally found where the champions were. I poked my head into the tent and tried to find my twin.

“Y/N?!” I heard a whisper. I whipped my head around and Harry was sulking in the corner of the tent. I motioned for him to come over, he glanced at the other champions who were too busy stretching or meditating to notice my presence before he walked over. As soon as he was in reach I engulfed him in a hug causing us both to stumble a bit.

“You ok?” I searched his features while holding him at arm's length. He nodded and swallowed.

“A bit nervous.” He scratched the back of his neck and looked at the floor.

“You got this, out of all the people in this tent you definitely got this.” I whispered. Right then I saw Dumbledore walk in the tent. “I should go.” He nodded and I gave him one more swift hug before running back to the stands to find the twins.

I stayed with them helping them count money and sharing candies I had stuffed in my pocket. More and more people began to fill the stands and I looked around for Hermione or Ron but saw neither. I brushed it off, they would come, they are probably just fighting.

“Hey Y/N! Mind if I sit here?” I looked up to see Neville bundled up tightly. His overgrown hair was swaying slightly against his forehead but was mostly held down with his ear muffs. I smiled and nodded, shifting to make more room on the crowded bench. In doing so I sat flush against Fred with less than an inch of room between me and Neville. We both smiled at each other again before focusing on the arena, waiting for it to start any minute now.

“Hey Neville?” I asked, turning toward him. He looked back at me quickly like I had caught him taking cookies out of the candy jar. “Did you happen to see Hermione on your way down here?” He instantly relaxed, probably thinking I was going to ask him to move. His eyes trailed away from mine as he recounted his steps.

“Yeah I did, she wasn’t walking towards the stands though she was heading toward the field.” I nodded, glad that she was around but slightly upset she didn’t come sit with me like we agreed.

“And Ron?” I asked after a brief moment of silence. His face contorted the same way it had moments earlier as he thought back. “I saw him standing outside the entrance to the stands, he wasn’t moving though.” I rolled my eyes.

“Thanks Neville.” I smiled again even though anger was burning up inside of me. Ron had continued to play this game long enough, he needed to get over himself and help out his friend. His constant bickering and absence was obviously getting to all of us, especially Harry.

I turned to Fred. “Why does your brother have to be such a git?” I asked. George whipped his head around stunned and Fred laughed.

“I don’t know, I guess I took all the good genes and George got stuck with the bad ones.” He said not even looking up from the tally sheet in his hand.

I took his hat off his head and flicked his forehead. “I meant Ron you daft dingus.” This time he looked at me, more because of my actions instead of my words. From behind him I could see George relax and laugh out of relief. He held his signature smirk as he grabbed his hat from my hands and began straightening it out.

“Don’t know, but I don’t think you should worry about that right now.” He said coolly.

“And what should I be worrying about Freddie?” I shot back. My anger began to reside as we fell back into our natural banter.

“This!” He said while pulling his hat over my head. I tried to fight him off but his grip was much stronger than mine. Finally I dropped my hands and slumped in defeat. I could hear his muffled laughter as he began to pull his hands away. I began to pull the hat off when he stopped me halfway.

“No, it looks better on you.” He held a genuine smile as he fixed the hat and smoothed down my hair. I could feel my cheeks warm up and I smiled back before turning my attention back to the field instead of him. My stomach began to stop doing flips as I looked around. Dumbledore was walking up to his box in the stand with the Minister.

“Must be about to start.” I heard Neville say in my direction. I nodded not even sure if he was looking at me as I stared at the champion tent. Just as Dumbledore began to speak, a very angry Hermione pushed her way into the stands sitting on the seat in front of us.

I maneuvered my way down to the stand below me and grabbed her shoulder. Her face was red and her breathing was rapid, I couldn’t tell if it was from the speed she was walking or whatever just happened. I looked at her silently asking about what happened.

“That wench that works for the daily prophet made an accusation saying I was having a love affair with Harry. She saw us hugging and took a photo. Now it's going to be plastered in a Newspaper for the whole school, much less the wizard parts of London to see.” I sent a frown her way. I knew immediately who she was talking about. Rita Skeeter was one of the Daily Prophets biggest reporters. Upon reading any of her articles it is clear that she doesn’t report she gossips and almost half of the things she publishes aren’t true.

I squeezed her shoulder slightly. “You know the only people who read her column and believe it are old ladies who have nothing better to do.” Her eyes met mine again and I could see just how upset she really was. “What if Ron reads it, he’s going to think me and Harry have this secret relationship and he’s never going to forgive us.” Her eyes began to well up. I pulled her into a hug and she hugged me back. We both stayed like that until cheering brought our attention back to the field. Cedric had just walked out of the tent, all our heads turned as a giant Green dragon roared opposite him. Hermione grabbed my hand, squeezing it every time there was a loud noise or big gust of fire.

“How is Harry going to do this?” She looked at me after Cedric had jumped down behind a rock, nearly missing the giant fireball the dragon sent his way. I sent her a reassuring smile and squeezed her hand.

“He’s got this.” She turned back to the field. “He’s got this.” I repeated it again, and a few more times after that trying to convince myself that he would be ok.

Sure enough he was. We were all in the common room, I was smiling up at Harry who had been hoisted up by Fred and George. They were going off about something but I wasn’t paying attention, too happy seeing Harry happy for the first time in the past month. He was smiling, really smiling.

I didn’t notice the egg being passed around until it was back in Harry’s hands.

“Do you want me to open it?” The common room roared. I myself cheered too, heavily anticipating whatever the next task could be. He twisted the top and a scream louder than the one the whole common room produced was let out. Harry fell off the twins shoulders as they backed up and plugged their ears. Harry scrambled on the floor and quickly shut it. The room filled with gasps of relief as we all unplugged our ears. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Fred. He looked at me worriedly and I just nodded, silently communicating that I’m ok. I mirrored his expression and he nodded too. I looked around and saw George standing on my other side and did the same. He nodded and rubbed at his neck.

The room filled with chatter as everyone gave their guess as to what that noise was. A few votes rang for banshee and someone yelled out the cruciatus curse, the room erupted into argument at that. I stood there silently, slightly amused as Dean and Seamus started arguing. I leaned into Fred’s touch slightly which resulted in him slinging his arm around my shoulder. I smiled and looked up at him. His face was slightly pink, and he looked down at me too and flashed me his famous smile, stomach flipped when I looked at him. My cheeks burned up and I cast my gaze back down to the floor and leaned into him more.

Suddenly the room went quiet. I looked around puzzled, following everyone's eyes I saw what caused the interruption. Ron stood in the doorway, he looked scared, kind of like he was about to puke but I came to know that as his nervous face.

“All of you, uh, go back to your knitting. This is going to be awkward enough without you nosy sods listening in.” Fred shouted above the crowd. The only noise through the common room was footsteps as people began to make their way out. Fred began to walk pulling me with him. I turned my head around and sent Harry a thumbs up before falling back in step with Fred as we went up the steps, George and a few other people were behind us. I didn’t pay attention to our accent to our destination as we walked up the stairs. I tried to strain my ears to hear if the boys downstairs were fighting again or making up.

I finally looked up when I was pushed down. I looked around, I was sitting on Fred’s bed, he was laying on his back next to me, George was shuffling some papers around on his desk and Lee Jordan, who I recognized from the Quidditch games, was sitting on his bed reading a book. The realization hit me and I turned to Fred.

“You brought me to your dorm?” I asked. He lifted his arm from covering his eyes as he looked at me. He propped up on his elbows, smirking.

“Do you not want to be here?” He asked, raising his brows. He cocked his head to the side causing his long hair to shake a little bit. I felt myself blush and get nervous again. I tried to push the feeling away so I could reply.

“N-No I don’t mind.” Mentally cursing myself for stuttering in front of him I decide to try and cover it up. “Just surprised you managed to get me past the charm on the door is all.” He scoffed which caused me to smile smugly. “I’m going to assume a seventh year did that huh?”

He rolled his eyes and smiled at me. I found myself smiling back before I even processed it was happening. “Actually,” He drew out the word as he brought himself into a sitting position. “You can thank Georgie over there for that.” My eyes nearly popped out of my head, as I whipped my face between Fred holding in his laughter and an unbothered unaware George, still moving papers around on his desk.

“George Fabian Weasley!” I nearly shouted. His head snapped around as his wide eyes met my own.

“How do you know my middle name?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

I ignored him and pressed on. “Who is she?” He looked between me and a snickering Fred, confusedly. “Who did you break the charm on the dorm door for.” I pressed. He rolled his eyes and went back to his papers. I looked at Fred who was laughing even harder now.

“George! Tell me!” I tried with my best authoritative voice but he didn’t budge, he didn’t even show any sign he heard me at all.

I looked at Fred pleadingly but he just continued to laugh. “‘She’,” Lee spoke, not looking up from his book. “Changes by the week.” My jaw, once again, dropped. Fred was now on the floor having fallen off the bed from laughter. “Hm, actually it changes more by the day.” Lee added. My head whipped around at him. His eyes met mine from over his book, he shrugged and looked back at the pages. My head was spinning.

“My quiet little George…” I started.

“Yeah he’s not very quiet.” Lee spoke again. This revelation earned him a swift kick from George. By now Fred had mostly calmed down, still laughing in between pants and pulling himself back onto the bed next to me.

“You little minx!” I yelled at George. He looked up from his papers and swiveled in his chair so his body was facing me.

“Oh I can assure you darling, I’m not little.” He winked and turned back in his chair. I swear I felt a small part of me die as Lee and Fred erupted into laughter. Fred returned to his position on the floor, laying on his side, howling with laughter as he grasped at his stomach.

The next few days passed by and things were going back to normal, mostly that is. I was now more aware of half of the student body ogling George, if that wasn’t revolting enough a few times I had caught him flirting with different girls. I always took him for a soft and caring type, but I could argue he had more confidence and outgoing personality than Fred and that was a tough thing to beat. I guess I never picked up on it due to our different class schedules, only seeing him at lunch and in between periods, but after seeing him in the act a few times it made sense, he was caring and flirty. More so than Fred, but he was good at hiding these interactions, probably an attribute that contributed to half the Gryffindor girls falling for him. The privacy he provided, partially, I assumed, to avoid teasing from us, made girls feel special. I understood, if he wasn’t one of my best friends and I wasn’t falling for his brother I probably would be after him too.

All classes had been postponed today. It was a month until the next challenge so none of us really knew what was going on. I assumed that we were all going to be scolded for something as each house was instructed to meet in their tower at 12 for a ‘Special Presentation’ at breakfast.

Walking up to the specified room in the tower with Hermione I asked her what she thought it was. She shrugged and huffed something about it being ridiculous they cancelled all of our classes. I laughed and shoved her slightly.

“Loosen up woman.” I giggled as she glared at me. Before she could start her rant Ron and Harry walked up to us. Harry walked in step with me and Ron wiggled his way between me and Hermione.

“I don’t know what you and Y/N were talking about but she’s right, you do need to loosen up.” Harry and I laughed immediately knowing what was happening next. Hermione slapped Ron on the shoulder, scolding him and calling him Ronald. “Bloody Hermione, you’re only proving my point.” He said grabbing me and switching our places, I stumbled a bit but fell back in step with them. Hermione huffed and walked ahead of us, Ron followed shouting apologies that only made her walk faster. I laughed again, happy things were all back to normal.

“So?” I turned to Harry. He mirrored my expression happily laughing to himself as he turned to face me. He raised his eyebrows at me, urging me to continue. “When do you think they will finally get together?” He began to laugh again so I jabbed in the ribs with my elbow. “I’m serious.” I whined.

He stifled his laughter. “So am I, honestly Y/N, Ron is such a ditz he’s not gonna realize he likes her until after we graduate.” I hummed and turned my head so I was facing forward again.

“I have more faith in him than that.” He just laughed at me again. Once we reached the rather large room I noticed McGonigal separating the boys and girls into different sides of the room. I left Harry and sat next to Hermione. Filch was busy trying to set up a record player, the occasional scratch was heard as his shaky hand tried to place the needle just right.

I looked around and saw Fred and George whispering to themselves against a wall. George said something and Fred pushed him away and gave him a weird look. He turned back to face McGonigal when he made eye contact with me. He smiled at me, I sent him a smile back. I mouthed ‘do you know what's going on’ to which he shrugged. He opened his mouth to say something back when George pushed him, George had a look of disbelief on his face and I watched them bicker. It felt like watching a sitcom on mute and I laughed as the both waved their arms around while explaining their points. My attention snapped back to McGonigal as she cleared her throat, her shaky voice filled the expansive room as she explained that Hogwarts would host a ball on Christmas eve.

Hermione looked at me, eyes wide with disbelief and my palms began to sweat. A ball? I had no clue how this was going to play out, or what it even really consisted of. All I knew in that moment was there was only one person I was interested in going with. I looked across the room to him, his brown eyes were already locked on me. My stomach backflipped. He was looking at me? His eyes looked immediately to the floor after catching mine. I could see George snicker from beside Fred but my eyes didn’t avert his. He was probably just scanning the room. My heart sank as I realized. I looked away but not before his head looked up and we caught eyes again. I felt like his eyes held the key to the universe. My face heated up and as my head screamed at me that this couldn’t possibly mean anything I tore my eyes away from him and focused on the speech McGonigal was giving.

I barely heard anything she said, making out ‘well mannered frivolity’ I gave up and gave into my thoughts. Focusing on the words swimming through the sea of my brain instead of the ones coming out of her mouth. I was still staring at the floor when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“You ok Y/N?” Hermione asked. I looked up to see most of the students already gone and the last few shuffling out. I nodded.

“Just thinking about what I could wear.” I lied coolly. She gave me an odd look before pulling me up and locking our arms together. She spoke excitedly about the ball all the way back to the dorm. I nodded and hummed, not registering a word she said.

“So…” I looked up to see Fred sit next to me at breakfast. He usually skipped breakfast or showed up at the last minute before class. Hermione and I had agreed to meet at breakfast an hour early and study for our potions exam. There were a few other people from all houses sitting about eating breakfast, the atmosphere was really quiet and calm, or it was until my favorite ginger showed up.

“So?” I asked him, placing my quill down and shutting my book. He put his elbows on the table and rested his face in his hands, smiling. “It’s quite early for you isn’t it.”

He held his lazy smile as he nodded. “I heard you were going to be down here, couldn’t pass up the chance to tease you.” He winked at me. I rolled my eyes at him trying desperately to kill each and every last butterfly flapping their wings in my stomach at that moment.

“Tease me about what exactly?” I asked mirroring his position.

“Who are you taking to the ball?” The question stopped me in my tracks. I froze. The ball was two weeks away and I didn’t have a date, much less a dress. Fred’s ‘teasing’ was scaring me, what were his motives, why was he interested in who I was taking, was he going to ask me? The questions filled my head and I forgot to answer.

“Y/N?” His voice had brought me back to reality. Fred was staring at me with a concerned look.

“At the moment, nobody. Why are you asking?” Fred’s concern dissipated as I answered. He smiled momentarily before shrugging.

“Just wanted to take the piss out of him is all.” He looked away from me at the food and began stacking up his plate.

“Why would you do that?” I asked, sitting a little straighter. He cleared his throat and continued to stack his plate. Without looking at me he spoke.

“You deserve someone special is all, I know the guys in this school and not many of them can be coined special.” I was taken aback. Where were these words coming from. I couldn’t tell if this had a romantic protectiveness or a platonic one. I pushed farther.

“Who are you taking to the ball?” I asked. This was it, this was the moment I was either going to be ecstatic or heart broken.

He smiled at his plate and looked over to me. “I have someone in mind. Haven’t asked her yet though.” He returned to his food, shoving some toast in his mouth.

“May I ask why?” He stopped chewing for a minute then hastily swallowed.

“I really like her, and well, erm, I don’t want to muck it up.” He didn’t look at me, he was looking at his hands. I was shocked. We trusted each other but it was rare he was truly vulnerable, especially of his own accord. I slipped my hand into his and squeezed slightly. His eyes traveled up to mine.

“I’m sure that whatever way you ask she will love it. You’re a special guy Freddie, you will think of something.” He smiled at me. I hope my hint didn’t fall on deaf ears and he understood what I was trying to communicate. “And a tip, you can never go wrong with a chocolate frog and some flowers.” He laughed and squeezed my hand before letting go.

He ate while I continued to study and it was comfortable. I enjoyed his presence but mentally I was screaming. After the rereading the third paragraph for the fifth time I felt a shift beside me. Fred was standing up and collecting his things. He grabbed his bag and looked at me, I smiled and gave a little wave.

He grabbed my shoulder, leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. Leaning in, he whispered a thank you and took off down the Great Hall. I watched him disappear out the doors, completely stunned. Suddenly I was whipped around and faced with a shocked Hermione.

“You better tell me what that was about.” She said sternly.

As a smile crept onto my face I looked at her and let out an airy laugh. “Honestly ‘Mione, I don’t know.”

That day had passed and some more, it was now the weekend before the ball. I was still dateless but I still held out hope as Fred was as well. Hermione had nagged me all week to tell her what was going on, once I finally confessed she screamed an ‘I knew it’. As much as her teasing got annoying it was quite nice being able to talk to someone about it and share the little moments I had with someone, we often spent our nights trying to decode what Fred had said to me and Ron to her. She told me about Krum and his incessant pestering, he had asked her three times before she said yes, giving up hope that Ron would ask.

I tried to keep her spirits up, Krum was much more of a gentleman and he was kind. It was better than nothing.

“Morning!” Ginny yelled bursting through the room. I shrieked and pulled my pants on faster, trying to cover up. “Sorry!” She yelled and covered her eyes. I laughed as she slowly moved her hand to make sure I was covered before fully looking at me.

“It’s dress day!” She squealed. I smiled back, Ginny was attending the ball with Neville. Hermione and I knew she fancied Harry but just like Ron he never mustered up the courage to ask her so she went with a friend.

Hermione knocked on the door before coming in. I walked over and nudged Ginny. “Did you see that? That’s what normal people do, knock.” She rolled her eyes and nudged me back making me laugh. Ginny was a dear friend of mine, her and I shared a similar sense of humor and she often told me secrets about the twins so I could torture them. She noticed my liking for Fred long before Hermione, Since her first year she’s been teasing me about it. I didn’t mind though, it was nice coming from her. She always ended a brutal joke by calling me her favorite sister.

“Are you two ready? The train is going to leave soon.” Hermione pulled us out of our moment and we nodded, happily skipping down stairs.

“And where are you three lovely ladies headed.” George spoke from behind us at the portrait hole. Fred ran up behind him pulling on his F sweater and trying to fix his hair as fast as possible. He looked up and I waved, he returned my gesture with a smile.

“Probably the same as you.” Ginny said turning back around, she pulled me with her. Her speed and strength nearly made me fall down the stairs.

“Mind if we join you?” I heard Fred ask. Immediately I got excited and nervous at the same time.

I started to say yes when Ginny cut me off.

“To buy dresses?” She snorted. I sent her a glare she didn’t see. Still being pulled down the stairs I couldn’t turn around and non-verbally answer without falling flat on my face.

“Just to Hogsmeade in general.” George replied.

I looked to Ginny pleadingly. We already had a similar conversation with Harry, then Ron, who we both turned down saying it was a ‘girls trip only’. She caught onto my stare and rolled her eyes.

“On the train then you leave us, we won’t have your boyness ruining our girls day.” Finally we reached the bottom of the steps. I turned to see George rolling his eyes and Fred pouting. I managed to shoot them a thumbs up before Ginny grabbed my arm and pulled me forward again.

The train ride was fun. The boys talked about their plan to stalk up on Zonko products and Honeydukes candies. I reminded them of their debt to me to which they reminded me of my ‘girls day’ so we agreed it would be paid on the next trip. Fred was uncharacteristically quiet. He spent most of the ride looking out the window and messing with his hands. I placed my hand on his bouncing knee looking up at him. His head whipped around to face me, eyes wide.

“You alright love?” I asked quietly, in case he wasn’t I wouldn’t be announcing it to the whole compartment. He nodded his face curling up in a sweet smile that my stomach tie itself in knots and my breathing faltered.

“Never better love.” He replied. His hand came and softly wrapped itself around mine. I smiled looking at our intertwined hands. He continued to look out the window for the rest of the ride but he was no longer fidgeting or shaking his leg.

Arriving at Hogsmeade we said our goodbyes and separated. I dramatically reached my arm out for the twins as Ginny and Hermione pulled me towards the dress shop. They laughed at my performance before turning around walking towards the many shops George said they would be visiting. Turning myself around I noticed both Ginny and Hermione staring at me.

“What?!” I shared a glance between the two.

“What were you and Fred whispering about on the train?” Hermione asked.

“We all saw you holding hands by the way.” Ginny pretended to gag after she said this, making me laugh.

I groaned. “Nothing really, he didn’t ask me if that’s what you are wondering.” I threw my face in my hands. Hermione gently peeled my hands away.

“He will, don’t worry.” I tried to smile at her but I could barely muster one up.

Ginny unlinked her arm with mine to open the door to the dress shop. Walking in I saw at least three levels, all lined with beautifully made gowns and skirts. I heard both Ginny and Hermione squeal as they lunged toward some rack up front. I laughed but squealed myself as I looked around. Everything looked so magical, as a witch this shouldn’t surprise me but I had never seen such beautifully made gowns before.

I looked through the racks, not thinking much or really liking anything enough to try it on. Moving up the levels I continued my search until I found it.

There was a mannequin in front of a display, every few seconds she would twirl or strike a pose, displaying her clothes. She was wearing a black corset. It stopped under the collarbone, the sleeves were made of a sheer fabric and had an intricate design sewn in them with lace, they covered the whole shoulder and puffed out a bit. The skirt was white. It had many layers, all the same length but with ribbon sewn across the semi sheer fabric so it looked tiered. I immediately knew this was the dress for me. I quickly scanned the racks trying to find my size in the skirt and corset.

I tried it on and paid as soon as it was off. Hermione caught me coming out of her dressing room. She ran up to me.

“You got yours already?” I nodded and gestured towards the woman who was delicately wrapping it up to place it in a bag. Her eyes widened and fear set into my stomach, what if she hated it.

“Oh Y/N! You are going to look so beautiful!” She wrapped me into a hug that I eagerly returned before slipping off into another isle. I walked back to the cashier and took my bag from her thanking her.

“Would you mind telling those two I went to the Three Broomsticks.” The woman nodded and I smiled at her.

I made my way back to the front of the shop. I was excited about my dress and the dance I had forgotten I didn’t have a date. Lost in thought I bumped into someone while leaving the shop.

“My bad!” I said backing up to let them through. I recognized them as three Hufflepuffs’ a year above me.

“No worries.” One of them said walking past. I let them pass before going back to the door to leave. As I did I caught part of their conversation.

“Did you see Fred ask Angelina out in Honeydukes?! It was the cutest!”

“Oh I know! And how he spelt her name out with jellybeans, it was adorable.”

I froze. My body felt cold and heavy all at the same time. Using the little strength I had left I turned around.

“I’m sorry, did you say Fred? As in Fred Weasley?” The girls whipped around and nodded frantically. One of them went to say something but I cut her off already having heard too much. “Hm, cute.”

The cold air hit my face as I walked away from the shop. It didn’t help the stinging in my eyes or pain in my lungs and I trudged forward. I made it to the Three Broomsticks and tucked myself in a booth in the corner. The room was empty except for a few Ravenclaws reading so I turned back around and stared at the wall as I felt myself push over the brink. Tears streamed down my cheeks with their own ferocity. I shook as silent sobs wracked through my body. I stayed there, crying and heaving for I don’t know how long. Eventually I put my head down as my eyes dried, unable to form any more tears I stared at my shoes.

How could I be so stupid to think that he liked me? My eyes welled up again, something I wasn’t even sure was possible and another sob wracked through my body. This one made noise so I quickly bit my tongue to stop myself for notifying anyone around me. The pain was overwhelming but I didn’t stop until I tasted iron on my tongue and my mouth felt more wet than usual.

I sat there swallowing my blood and trying to breath normally. Eventually I felt a presence. I looked up to see Hermione and Ginny standing over me confused.

“He asked Angelina. He never liked me.” They both looked at each other and then me. I relayed what happened to them and they comforted me. I sat with my head on Hermione’s shoulder sniffling and kicking my dress under the table.

Not any good now.

We sat there until the next scheduled train time. Only being there for a few hours we were one of the only ones to return that early. I trudged back to the common room where Ron and Harry sat on the couch. They watched us walk in, Harry immediately stood up after seeing me. I tried to walk past him but he caught me in his arms. I didn’t bother to hug him back. I just stood there, feeling uncomfortable and cold. He pulled off of me when he felt me not hug back, still holding onto me he looked between Ginny and Hermione.

“What happened?” I stood there, cringing slightly as they went over what happened. Harry looked back at me and sent me a sympathetic smile.

“Oi, since when did Y/N like Fred?!” Ron asked from the couch. I felt like I could fall over right then. Wanting nothing more than to disappear I moved my head and sent him a glare.

“Are you really that thick Ronald? She’s liked him since they met and your idiotic brother just broke her heart. Honestly if you paid any attention to the people around you instead of the food on your plate you would notice these things. Maybe even notice when someone is interested in you!” Hermione huffed out. She turned red realizing what she had said and looked away from him.

“Who fancies me?” Ron asked sitting up. Hermione huffed again and hugged her bag to her chest storming upstairs.

“I’ll kill him.” Ginny said from behind me.

“Not without me you aren’t.” Harry said. The two smiled at each other.

“I’ll help, he can be bloody awful sometimes, still need to get him back from turning my hair green.” Ron said leaning back.

I looked at him. “No offense Ron but are you completely unaware of anything that just happened or are you choosing to be a git?” His eyes widened and he raised his arms defensively.

“Don’t take your anger out on me! I didn’t break your bloody heart.” As the words left his lips he muttered a small ‘oh’, realizing his actions weren’t helping the situation at all. He jumped off the couch and gave me a small awkward hug before stepping back and patting me on the head. Any other day I would have been amused at his cluelessness but today I didn’t have the strength.

Harry looked at him like he just strangled a puppy. He swiftly smacked him on the head.

“I’m gonna, erm, go now.” I said. I gripped my bag tighter, the dress seemed to gain more weight the more I resented it. I walked over to the stairs when Harry called my name again. Turning around so I could see him he looked at me with the same intensity he did when we talked after his name was chosen.

“I meant what I said. I’ll kill him.” I smiled before muttering a ‘whatever’ and waving them off. Too emotionally drained to say or do anything about his protectiveness. I felt like an idiot, I felt like I had climbed one of the biggest mountains only for it to cave in and swallow me whole and throwing me into the deepest and darkest part of the earth. I was now below ground at this point.

I spent the next few days in my dorm. Hermione would bring me food and ask me to come hang out and enjoy the break but I always waved her off, I either had a book to read or an essay to do. She would give up and walk out of the room eventually. She knew why, I was too afraid of seeing Fred, knowing well Harry, Ron, and Ginny have told him everything by now. I couldn’t take the extra embarrassment, I hadn’t fully recovered from my last blow. The dress had been discarded under my bed. Still in its wrapping and the bag I just threw it out of sight.

Taking a bite out of my toast I flipped through pride and prejudice. I envied Lizzy for having her affections returned. Getting lost in the book was one way I managed to escape. I snuck out late at night, surely when everyone was asleep to go sit in the common room for a change of scenery, a few times I walked up to the astronomy tower and looked at the stars. Besides being deathly cold it was peaceful. Learning from past mistakes I made sure to bring blankets or an extra jacket when I ventured out. I had a few goodies and pillows stuffed in an empty cabinet so I didn’t need to lug all my things out at once. The astronomy tower had become my space. I really enjoyed it there, it was quiet and peaceful and not once was I disturbed, that could have equally been due to the time I would go but no matter to me, it was my space.

A knock at the door pulled me away from the world that had engulfed me in my book. I groaned, signaling to whoever was out there that they could come in. The door didn’t open, they just knocked again. I groaned, louder this time, nothing happened so I threw down my book and toast and walked to the door. I opened it expecting to see Hermione but Harry was there instead.

“Harry?” He didn’t respond, he just engulfed me into a hug. Finally he pulled away and looked at me. I knew he was judging my appearance but I didn’t care much, I wasn’t leaving my room so there was no need to look good or try. I wore old clothes that barely fit, my eyes were red from my lack of sleep and there were definite bags under them. My hair was thrown up into a messy bun, the lack of effort evident as it barely held up.

“Y/N…” He took me in. Not letting him eye me up and down I turned and returned to my scrunched position on my bed and picked up my book. Harry stood in the doorway awkwardly. Any other time I would have laughed at him for his lame social skills but I didn’t have the energy today.

“So, what brings you here?” I asked, not looking up from my book. I wasn’t reading it. I just didn’t want to see the way he looked at me. His eyes were full of pity and I didn’t want that. I just wanted to sulk alone and he was throwing a wrench in my plans.

“I haven’t seen you in days.” I hummed a response and picked up my toast. “Y/N you gotta get out of here.” I put my book down and looked at him.

“Have you gone mad?” I was suddenly angry. How could he tell me to do that. Throw myself back out there and get destroyed again. “I am not leaving this room until classes pick back up.” I huffed. He walked over and sat at the end of the bed.

“You and I are going to hang out with Ron and Hermione today. Ginny agreed to join. We are going to visit Hagrid and walk up to the Shrieking shack, we all miss you. I think Hermione is going mad not having you around and Ginny keeps complaining that her favorite sister is missing.” I smiled before the pain set back in. She only called me her sister because she knew I liked Fred.

“Harry I’m sorry. I can’t. What if he’s there, I feel like a total idiot and…” He cut me off. “Y/N, I will drag you out of this bed if you do not get up and come with us. We miss you ok, if anything happens we will be there.” I groaned and threw my head in my hands. I knew this was going to happen. I was going to lose one of my friends because my feelings got in the way. Ginny kept asking me to stay with her at the burrow, I could never agree now. Fred hates me. Tears welled up in my eyes, it was a feeling I was very familiar with lately.

I nodded giving in. I stood up and pushed through some drawers trying to find some appropriate clothes while holding in my tears. Watching me get up he walked toward the door.

“Today will be brilliant, I promise.”

My attempt to dodge the plans didn’t work. After Harry shut the door I showered, got dressed and tried my best to cover up the signs I was crying. I looked tired but if you didn’t look too closely I looked nice. I walked over to the door but ended up standing there. I was afraid to move, afraid to see him, afraid of him seeing me. I didn’t have the courage to ask if Harry spoke with him. He probably did, I didn’t want to hear my second hand rejection. After about ten minutes Harry opened the door. I looked at him furiously shaking my head no.

“I thought this might happen.” Hope swelled up as I thought he would give in and leave me alone. “Ron! I need you!”

“What?!” I yelled. He sent me a sympathetic look before turning back to the door. I looked at the doorway where Ron had just made his way up the steps.

“Nice to see you Y/N.” He greeted as both Harry and him starting walking towards me. Realization struck at what they were planning on doing and I scrambled to get away. Ron and Harry picked up their pace and cornered me. I gave them both a pleading look, silently asking for them to leave me alone. “Sorry.” They both repeated the phrase as they locked their arms under mine and pulled me toward the door. I squirmed a bit and tried to fight but as we passed the door I figured it was no use. They were both much stronger than me.

I made it to the bottom of the steps where Hermione and Ginny were whispering. Ron and Harry let go of me and stood in front of the entrance to the dorms like deranged bouncers.

Hermione looked up and ran towards me, engulfing me in a tight hug. “I miss you.” I nodded and patted her back, just trying to get this day over with.

Meeting with Hagrid was nice, his warm house always felt comforting and I stayed curled up in an armchair with Fang the majority of the time. I didn’t talk much unless someone had talked to me. When we left Hagrid patted my back gently and gave me a small smile. “I hope yer feel better Potter.” I smiled back and nodded. His gruff voice gave a hum and I jogged up to the group who were a little ways ahead of me.

The way to the Shrieking Shack was filled with talk over the next task. Hermione and Harry talked about the egg. Ginny hung onto my arm as we navigated across the uneven ground stabling each other. Eventually after watching Ron fall for the third time I grabbed him and locked our arms. He smiled at me and I smiled back. It didn’t feel as forced this time. The heavy feeling on my shoulders lifted as we walked. Their company mending small parts of my soul in a comfortable silence.

Standing outside the fence of the Shrieking Shack we all hesitated before we continued. We knew what it looked like but it was still slightly creepy. Hermione brought up a few times how it would be cool to explore the house. Ron disagreed immediately, Harry was indifferent but I was, or used to be, bloody excited. The closer we got the harder Ron’s grip became on my arm and the slower his movement became.

“Merlin Ron, speed it up would you?” He looked at me swallowing, nodding he did as I asked. Looking forward Harry and Hermione had turned and were staring at me, I realized I hadn’t spoken since we were at Hagrid's. I just shrugged and urged them forward.

“So, who is going in first.” Ginny asked as we all stopped outside the front door.

“I’m bloody not.” Ron replied grumpily. We all shared a laugh at him and got quiet again. I felt like everyone was staring at me so I shrugged.

“Move aside then.” Harry smiled as I pushed the door open. The house grumbled as I walked in. The familiar moving feeling set in as I took a few steps forward. Looking around I saw soft light filtering in through one of the rooms, I walked toward it. I walked into the living room, it was the only room that looked nice. The rest of the house was destroyed but this one had been fixed up. Small candles were floating in the air and the fireplace was roaring. The couch was stocked with a ton of blankets, the table in front of it had a shelf filled with a few books, games and a basket. On the top of the table were chocolate frogs and green daisies. I felt out of place.

“I think we are interrupting someone’s date.” I called back, still admiring the room. When I turned around no one was there.

“Y/N.” Turning back around I saw Fred walking towards me. I felt my breathing halt and my eyes tear up. I looked around the room, anywhere but him, expecting to see Angelina pop out of wherever he was.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to disrupt your d-date. I will be going now.” I turned around and tried to run to the door. Before I could even step away he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to him. The sudden action caused me to become flush against him. He wrapped his arms around me like I was going to break, holding me gently but tightly against his chest. I was frozen in place, I didn’t breathe, I just waited for him to speak.

“Y/N, I didn’t ask Angelina, George did.” The breath I was holding in suddenly released. I felt relief wash over me, then like a thousand bricks, guilt hit me. I pulled my head away to look at him and pulled my hands up to rest on his chest.

“You didn’t?” My eyes were still teary and he was slightly blurry. One of his hands came up and cupped my cheek, his thumb brushed away a stray tear.

“No, I-I wanted to ask you. Then you left and I thought you found out about it and left to avoid me, that was, until I got back and got tackled by Ginny and Harry.” I laughed at the thought of them tackling him.

“You want to go with me?” I blurted out, realizing what he said. He smiled at me, the arm around my waist tightened.

“If you will have me, yes. I understand if you don’t want to, after I made you cry.” He looked sadly at the floor, his smile gone. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down into a tight hug. He reacted immediately, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

“Of course I want to go with you Freddie.” I spoke into his neck. He squeezed me and lifted me up spinning. I squealed and held onto him tighter instinctively wrapping my legs around his waist. One of his hands trailed down under my thigh to help support me in the new position. He stopped spinning and I pulled away to see him.

Some of his long hair had fallen into his face. I lifted a hand and brushed it away and tucked some behind his ear. His smile grew brighter and his face got a little warmer. I let my hand fall slightly, cradling his jaw. His eyes looked into mine and in that moment I felt complete. As we stared at each other I watched as his eyes would dart from my eyes to my lips.

“May I?” He asked and leaned his head closer to mine. I didn’t answer verbally, I just closed the gap between us. Our lips moved against each other trying to find a rhythm and balance. Once we did it was perfect, our lips moved against each other in sync. He squeezed my thigh causing me to gasp, he used that to his advantage as he slid his tongue into my mouth and I let him, grabbing tighter onto his neck. I ran my fingers through his hair and tugged slightly at the hair at the bottom of his neck. The moment was perfect.

For two seconds.

Immediately we heard whooping and cheering along with a loud banging noise. Fred tightened his grip on me as we looked around. Turning we saw Ginny, Ron, and Hermione cheering. Harry was there banging on the window. Fred put me down and I laughed at them. Fred ushered them off which they did. Harry didn’t leave before glaring at Fred and mouthing a threatening ‘I’m watching you’.

He turned back to me. “Should I be worried?” He asked.

I shrugged. “No, I don’t think so, unless you break my heart.”

“Good thing I wasn’t planning on it.” I smiled up to him. Standing on my toes I pecked his cheek before pulling him to the couch. Fred had prepared a small station with books and games for us to pass the time as well as a whole meal tucked away in the basket.

“This is beyond perfect Freddie, I don’t know how to thank you.” I said looking around. It was all just so amazing I was afraid I was dreaming. I looked back to the boy in front of me. He was looking at me, smiling.

“You can... thank me by agreeing to my girlfriend.” He said scooting closer to me on the couch. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and I brought my hand up to his chest.

“Did I not already?” I asked. He laughed but looked back at me expectantly. He wanted a real answer. “Yes!” I rolled my eyes at him but didn’t stop the smile spreading to my face. He smiled back and we kissed. This one lasted much longer not being interrupted and already having a rhythm down. When we pulled apart for air we were both panting slightly.

“I wouldn’t mind doing that more often.” He said, smirking. I smacked him playfully and reached over to grab a chocolate frog. The rest of the day was spent eating and talking and enjoying each other's company. We didn’t pick up a book or game Fred had prepared, too infatuated with each other.

#fred weasley #fred and george #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #weasleys wizard wheezes #weasley twins

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wzrd-wheezes · 4 years

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George Weasley x Reader - Stay Here.

A/N: Hello! I’m back with another fic and this time it’s a George one. This is the longest fic I’ve written so far and the first time that I’ve written any smut (there’s only a little bit right at the end so if you’re under 18 don’t read it) please let me know if you enjoy!

Warnings: fluffy smut. its nothing too bad but don’t read if you’re under 18. there’s also a bit of angst and mentions of cheating in relationships. Quite a lot of swearing as well.

2.5k words

masterlist here

“Don’t fucking speak to her like that.” George step foot into their house, “if I were you, I’d let go of her arm and let her come with me. She clearly doesn’t want to be with a piece of shit like you,”

“No! You do this every time! Every single fucking time you tell me that it won’t happen again and it always fucking does,” Y/N yelled.

“It’s not like that! You know it’s not like that, babe.” Her boyfriend tried to calm her down.

“Don’t you ‘babe’ me after what you’ve done. This is the third time now! What do you expect me to do, let you cheat on me time and time again and keep giving you chance after chance?” she stormed up the stairs and into their bedroom.

“I didn’t cheat! Jess is just a friend!” he yelled, following her into bedroom

“Last time I checked, you don’t fuck your friends,” she grabbed a bag from the closet and began throwing clothes into it.

“You’re one to talk, that ginger little prick you’re friends with is constantly up your arse. He basically undresses you with his eyes every time you’re together!”

“Don’t try and turn this around on me. George is my friend, and you know that. You’re just jealous because I enjoy spending time with him because he isn’t a dick like you are.” She turned around to leave the room. Her boyfriend grabbed her arm and pulled her back in, slamming the door shut and leaning against it.

“I swear to god, if you don’t move out of my way…” she drew her wand out and pointed it at him. She barged past him and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She took her phone from her pocket and held it to her ear.

“Please, please can you come and get me.”

A short while later there was a knock at the door. Y/N rushed to get there before her boyfriend did but by the time she had reached the last step the front door had already been swung open.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” her boyfriend spat.

“I’ve come to pick Y/N up,” George replied firmly. Her boyfriend span around quickly to look at her.

“Oh, of course you rang him,” he raged, “why aren’t I surprised?”

“Jack, can you please just get out of the way,” Y/N pleaded, trying to get around him.

“Why should I? so you can go to his house and fuck him like you’ve always wanted to,” he pointed at George accusingly.

“And why should I-”

George didn’t even give him time to reply before landing a harsh punch on his jaw. Jack staggered back a few paces, fury spreading over his face before launching himself at George. George fell backwards against the wall, holding Jack at arms-length.

“Y/N, go and get in the car,” he strained, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

She did as he said and got into the passenger seat of his car. She sat in silence for a few moments before breaking down into fits of tears. What was she going to do? Her whole life had been shattered before her very eyes. She didn’t have anywhere to live now that she had walked out. After what seemed like an age, George returned to the car, slamming the door shut as he got in.

“He’s a right foul, git, d’you know that?” he wiped some blood off of his lip. Y/N nodded silently and began sobbing again. George didn’t say another word the whole journey back to his flat. The pair sat in silence, Y/N gazed out of the window into the night, looking at all the lit-up houses and wondering if they were filled with happy couples. The car slowed as they arrived at George’s. He still had noy spoken a word. Walking round to the other side of the car, he opened Y/N’s door for her. It was as she stood up in front of him, he realised how broken she looked. Her eyes that used to light up at his jokes were bloodshot. Her normally rosy cheeks now tearstained. The girl that stood in front of him looked small and scared.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.” He took her hand and led here through the front door.

George and Fred still lived together, their home was a place of sanctuary for Y/N when her and Jack used to fall out. She had spent countless nights on their sofa in front of the fire. As they walked through the hallway, she noticed the glow of the living room light peaking out under the doorway. Fred was still awake. George opened the door for her and ushered her through.

“Where the bloody hell have you been? It’s getting la-” Fred’s sentence trailed off as her caught sight of Y/N, tears still leaking from her eyes. His eyes then glanced over to George, who’s nose was still a bit bloody and his lip now swelling up.

“What the fuck happened?” Fred sounded astonished.

“Jack and I broke up,” Y/N choked out, “I found out he was cheating on me again,”

“He’s a right nasty piece of work,” Fred stood up, “d’you want me to go round there and sort him out?”

“I sorted it,” George confirmed, sitting down on the sofa, “Chuck me that box of tissues will you, Fred?” He cleaned up the rest of the blood from his nose. Y/N sat down next to George. The three made conversation for a few moments.

“I’m going to go to bed, give me a shout if you need anything, yeah?” Fred departed.

Y/N and George sat in silence again, until Y/N spoke.

“I’m sorry,” her words seemed to echo in the silent room.

“What are you on about?” George raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’m sorry that you always have to sort me out,” she sniffed, “I’m sorry that every single time Jack and I used to argue you had to come and get me. I’m sorry that he hurt you and I’m sorry that you have to put up with me being all upset,”

“Oh, Y/N,”

“I’m just, I’m really scared, George. I can’t go back there. All my stuff is there. I don’t have a home anymore.”

“I know, love.” He looked sad, “but you’re away from him now. And in the meantime, you can stay here and you can have a job at our shop until we get you back on your feet.”

“Really? You’d do all that for me?” she turned round to look at him properly. It was the first time in a while that George had really seen her up close. He’d always thought that she was beautiful and dare he even say, he’d always had a bit of a soft spot for her. But it just so happened that she had always had a boyfriend. Besides, George was certain that she didn’t see him in that way.

“Of course, I would, Y/N, you’re my friend.” That last word seemed to ring in his ears as soon as it left his mouth. Friend. That was all that he was to her. Her friend. She leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Georgie.”

Y/N had been living with Fred and George for a few weeks now. She filled her days by working long hours in the joke shop. She didn’t mind though; it kept her mind off of things and allowed her to spend some more time with the twins. She had grown even closer with them in the last few weeks, particularly with George. They would stay up late at night to speak to each other, even though they both had work early in the morning. If Y/N didn’t feel like she had a wedge of ice stabbed through her heart, she might have said that she was falling for George. She knew that it was probably going to take a while for her to begin to trust people again, for her to be ready to give her all to someone, knowing that they could take it all away from her, like had been done in the past though. Surely, though, if she was going to fall for anyone, George Weasley would be perfect. He was kind and patient and funny. He made Y/N know that he was there for her when she was feeling down. It was on one of Y/N’s days off from the shop that Fred confronted his brother about it.

“You love her.” He said bluntly, as he refilled the shelves of Weather in a Bottle. George stayed quiet, “You do,”

“I know, Fred. I know I do,” George looked distressed, “but she doesn’t see me like that,”

“I know you’re my twin brother and everything, Georgie, but bloody hell you’re not as clever as me,” Fred teased, “It’s obvious.”

“What is?”

“That she likes you back, you muppet,” Fred laughed, “have you not seen the way she looks at you? Like you’re shining the sun out of your arse.” George chuckled, shaking his head at his twin. For the rest of the day he found himself smiling. All his thoughts were filled with Y/N, he couldn’t wait to get home. When he eventually step foot into their flat, they began their nightly routine of having dinner together and then chilling out in front of the fire. Y/N was sprawled out on the sofa reading her book, her head resting in George’s lap as he watch the T.V. For some reason, he felt nervous being around her, like he should make some sort of move or something.

“You look tense,” Y/N sat up and turned to face him, “what’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m just a bit tired that’s all,”

Y/N put her head against his shoulder, nudging her way in so his arm was around her. George shot her a quizzical look.

“I just wanted a cuddle,” she shrugged, “sleeping on this sofa is killing my back,”

“You can have my bed tonight if you want,” George offered smiling at her. She stood up and made her way out of the living room.

“Night, then?” George said, puzzled.

“Are you not coming? I’m sure we can both squeeze into your bed.”

George grinned as he climbed into his bed next to her. They lay facing each other for a little while, neither of them muttering a word. Y/N’s nose was practically touching his, he could feel the warmth of her breathe on his face. She fluttered her eyes shut for a moment. George mustered up all the courage he could find and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Her eyes snapped open, and for a second, she looked a bit taken aback. George’s heart sank for moment, until her lips met his for the second time. She was kissing him. It was as if all of the fireworks in their joke shop had gone off inside of him. What started out as a sweet kiss deepened as George crept his tongue into her mouth. He could feel her lips smiling against his and she climbed on top of him. He sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull him closer to her. Y/N’s hands grabbed at the hem of his t-shirt, jerking it off of him. She trailed her kisses down from his lips to his neck. George groaned slightly. Her kisses moved down to his shoulder and she started making her way down his kiss, leaving fleeting kisses as she moved.

“Wait, Y/N,” George mumbled.

“What?” She pushed her hair out of her face so she could look at him.

“This isn’t just… I don’t know how to say it,” he looked worried.

“Just say it, Georgie,” Y/N moved so she was straddling him now.

“I’m not just some rebound to you, am I?” he blurted out, “because I don’t want to do this if it doesn’t mean anything.” Y/N smiled at him.

“Of course you’re not just a rebound,”

“Good. Because I love you, Y/N, I really, really do,” he smiled, “it broke my heart seeing you all upset. I just wanted to be the one to make you feel better.”

“You have, George. I promise you, you have. I think I love you too. I’m just so, so scared of getting my heart broken again,”

“I could never do that, love.” George sat up, so that once again, their noses were brushing against each other. This time, he kissed her more passionately. Flipping her over so that she was lying beneath him, her hair splayed out on his pillow. He toyed with the hem of her shirt for a few seconds before removing it and throwing it onto the floor. Wet kisses were placed against her neck and he began moving down her body, leaving gentle kisses along the waistband of her pyjama bottoms before removing them as well. Positioning himself between her legs, he took a final look at the girl that lay in front of him before slipping a finger inside of her. She gasped and tangled her hands in his hair as he began to lap at her.

“You sure you want to carry on?” he asked.

“Please,” she nodded.

“If you change your mind, just tell me to stop, okay?” The girl nodded again. Quickly, he removed his underwear and moved so that he was hovering over her, his arms either side of her head. He positioned himself and entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust before he quickened his pace. Y/N gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his body against hers. George was moaning gently in her ear, whispering sweet nothings as he fucked her.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

The next morning, Y/N woke up with her body entangled with George’s. One of his long arms wrapped around her waist and his legs intertwined with hers.

“Good morning, darling,” he smiled softly. His hair was all messed up from the activities of the night before.

“Morning,” Y/N beamed back at him.

“We better get up before Fred wonders where we both are.”

As the pair entered the living room, they were greeted by Fred, who sat on the sofa staring at them with a knowing look.

“I go to bed early one night and you two can’t keep your hands off each other,” he chucked, shaking his head at them jokingly, “I don’t even want to know what happened in there last night, all I know is that Lee owes me 5 galleons.”

“Why?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“He didn’t reckon that you two would get together this side of Christmas,” he grinned, “I was right, of course, I knew it wouldn’t take you two long.”

#george x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fan fic #george weasley smut #george weasley fluff #fred and george fanfic #fred and george weasley #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x reader

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bjornthorsson20 · 3 years

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As Long as You're by My Side

Ron Weasley was absolutely not having the evening he had planned — why did that sound familiar? He was currently stuck at a party where he didn't feel comfortable at all, and so bored that his brain had turned to mud. He was sitting alone at a table on the back, far away from everyone, sipping on some whiskey — a drink that didn't taste nearly as good as regular firewhiskey.

The suit Hermione had picked for him was starting to feel three sizes too small and he was pretty sure his tie was literally trying to strangle him. He was still assessing his surroundings, pondering how he could sneak out the back, taking Hermione with him so they could go back home and have some actual fun for tonight.

He had strategically positioned himself so she was in his line of sight at all times. At that moment, her back was facing him as she engaged in conversation with people who Ron guessed to be some aunt and uncle. He was content just staying in his corner, silently watching her from the distance. Nobody was paying him any mind, anyway. In fact, he was pretty sure they weren’t even aware of his existence. He could probably dress up in a panda costume or in a bathrobe and stroll around, and they wouldn’t bat an eye. Or maybe a banana costume; or a cowboy; or an astron-

He snapped himself out of his ramblings before he got carried away and started seriously considering following through with it. Instead, his eyes focused again on Hermione, who was now struggling to stop the reason they were here tonight from pulling her hair out.

Rose Granger-Weasley was six months old, having been born August of last year, on the 25th. The day she came into this world had been simultaneously the most nerve-wracking and rewarding one of his life. He chuckled, remembering the way Hermione kept apologizing for all the foul things she had said to him during the whole process and for almost breaking his hand. She had felt awful, even when he’d assured her multiple times that it was just fine, and he’d gladly take a broken hand if it’d mean having that perfect little bundle of ginger hair and pale skin nestled in his arms. When Rose opened her eyes for the first time, and he saw how beautiful they were — the most beautiful he’d ever seen — and how they were the same color as her mother’s, a tear trailed down his cheek. And when she finally looked at him and let out a little toothless smile, he couldn’t stop the overflowing joy that coursed through his body, making him hold her gently closer as he let the tears fall freely, all the while Hermione watched them both with her own watery smile.

Soon after, he’d had to hand Rose over to the rest of the family that were fighting for an armful of the Weasley girl. Mum had been the biggest emotional mess — to no one’s surprise — bawling everytime she looked at the baby. Dad and all of his brothers had congratulated him with several pats on the back of varying force.

“This time I’ll surely be the favorite uncle,” George told him, and at the mention of the word “uncle”, Ron’s thoughts immediately went to Fred. He could see in his brother’s eyes that he was thinking the same, but they both found comfort knowing that, if Fred was watching them, he was probably having a laugh at Ron’s new fatherhood situation, thinking he was a fool for settling down. The git.

Harry and Ginny had brought James and Albus with them, James instantly liking the newborn, with Rose’s response being to grab his hair and not let go of it until Ginny intervened; Ron had to suppress a chuckle. Good girl, Rosie. Like father, like daughter.

Once the new family had gone home, George happily let Ron take an extended leave for as long as he deemed suitable, so he could focus on the newborn. The shop was doing better than ever thanks to Ron’s business tactics and George’s renewed sense of creativity for all sorts of products. But thanks to Lee’s and Verity’s help, Ron could step away for some time without issue.

Over the next couple of months, many friends came to see little Rosie and congratulate them on this next chapter of their lives. Then, one day Hermione received a call from one of her cousins, inviting her to her wedding. Hermione had tried to explain to her that with the new baby girl she would be too busy to attend, but it had backfired when her cousin let out a screech of excitement — that sounded very much like a hippogriff on fire, Ron thought — saying that Hermione had to bring the girl so the family could meet her.

And that was how they got themselves into a muggle wedding reception. Hermione had been happily catching up with all of the relatives she hadn’t seen since the pre-Hogwarts days, letting them fawn over their lovely baby girl. If this had been years ago, Ron would be terrified to be in the muggle world, afraid of being just one step away from screwing everything up by saying the wrong thing. But, after years of Auror missions and visits to his in-laws, he just found himself disinterested with everything, hoping that Hermione would come soon to tell him they could go home.

Finishing his drink, he saw Hermione turn to him and give him a tired smile, as the people she was talking to turned as well and left. He stood up, striding over to her in three long steps, before taking Rose from her arms and giving her a kiss on the temple.

“Shall we go?” he asked, already sensing that she was as sick of this whole thing as he was.

She bit her lip nervously, glancing over to the newlyweds’ table. “I told her we would stay until the cake was served,” she half-whispered, stifling a yawn as her face fell into a grimace, perhaps thinking he would be mad at her for prolonging their stay here.

Ron silently looked at her and their daughter, and he couldn’t help but smile in that silly way he did whenever he was overwhelmed with love for them.

“Hermione, as long as you’re by my side, both of you, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I’ve told you, as much as I may be content just by myself, it’s only when I’m with you that I am truly happy. With you I feel loved.”

Hermione’s bottom lip quivered, as she quickly hugged her husband, hiding her face on his shoulder. “There are no words to describe you, Ron Weasley,” she sobbed.

“I could say the same, love. Have I ever told you that I love you?”

“Only about a million times already,” she chuckled.

“Well, make it a million and one, then,” he said, knowing how much she loved when he found a way to tell her that in an indirect way.

“I love you too. Both of you,” she tightened her hold on him as she spoke.

They stood there, holding each other close. Ron realised in that very moment, that no matter where he went, he didn’t care if he didn’t feel welcomed. He would be happy as long as the two people he loved the most would be right there with him. Always.

#romione #romione fanfic #romione drabble #ron x hermione #ron weasley #hermione granger #rose weasley #harry potter #ginny weasley #george weasley #family fluff #romione fluff #sequel fic #songfic #fanfiction #bjornthorsson20

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lemon-boy-stan · 4 years

Text

bruises, boys, chasers and detention - fred weasley x reader requested by @yourlocalauthor, anon, and anon. i basically merged all your requests into one. sorry it took so long. for the anon who requested x ravenclaw reader, i’m sorry i couldn’t do that. instead, i’ll probably make a hc. hope that’s ok. warnings: lee jordan. sexual references.

You'd been looking forward to the first Quidditch match of the year all the holidays. And now you were positive that the match was the worst event of your day that had happened. Fred got a week's worth of detention, you were in the hospital wing and Adrian Pucey had a broken nose.

The rest of the day was actually pretty good. The bad stuff started halfway through the Quidditch match. The weather was terrible and you could barely see or keep your hands on your Bluebottle.

You only just managed to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend - a whir of bright vermillion, maroon, brown and yellow. He waved at you and you waved back.

"L/N!" Snapped Oliver, "get your head in the game!" You nodded grimly and tried your best to concentrate.

"Oi, Y/N! On your left!" Shrieked Angelina, swooping to your right. Slytherin chasers Blaise Zabini and Adrian Pucey zoomed over.

The two of them grinned at each other before steering their Nimbus 2001s, hooking their brooms and going on your left and right side.

"Zabini and Pucey have cornered our beautiful Seeker of Gryffindor house, I've got a sinking feeling in my stomach here and a determined force in me - I think it's humor - that's telling me the two gits won't have a happy ending if Y/N’s boyfriend of - is it six years? - Fred Weasley is going to do anything about, I daresay the two pigs will find a lot of nasty surprises, sponsored by the Beaters in red -" began a gleeful Lee Jordan, sniggering loudly into the microphone.

You could only just hear Professor Mcgonnagall barking at him to shut up. You would've laughed at Lee’s words to yourself but you had other things to worry about. Blaise and Adrian had cornered you.

You gritted your teeth and tried your best to spot out the Snitch in the dreadful weather - you certainly weren't going to let a couple of dickheads ruin your chance of winning.

When it came to cheating, however, Slytherin house certainly didn't give up. There was an upset roar from the crowd and an assortment of hooting and cheering which came from the Slytherin stands.

There was a bang and a grunt and your shoulder made contact with the fabric of the curtains.

Your stomach churned from the motion but you were determined to stay focused - you'd only just seen the Snitch and now you tightened your grip on the handle.

"She's seen it, lads and lasses! She dives! She escapes the violent clutches of Pucey and Zabini, only just making it out by the luscious strand of hair over -"

"JORDAN!" Bellowed Professor McGonnagall. Lee snickered loudly into the microphone as you puffed before diving again.

"Right, sorry for the biased narration, Professor," the snicker Lee gave off wasn't very apologetic and it distracted you long enough for Adrian and Blaise to get back on your tail again. “Can’t really help it when we all hate Slytherin house any - alright, alright!”

Something, a bone, most likely, in your arm cracked as you smashed into the wall, taking all of Pucey's weight. There was hooting from Slytherin and an outraged roar from Gryffindor. Oliver was almost as outraged as Fred was; the Snitch had now disappeared.

You took another hit and then another and there was a loud thud; you realised that you were the one making the thud, soaring into the dirt below.

There was more excited screaming and snickering from the wave of silver and green and an even louder outraged roar from Gryffindor as you tumbled.

"Exhibition B shows us the obvious cheating ways of Slytherin House and what an incredible (and furious) boyfriend Fred Weasley is, oh, look at him dive, look at him dive!” grinned Lee. "Angelina gets the Quaffle, but is there really any point when all eyes are on our gorgeous Seeker? Something doesn't seem quite right with Y/N! And look at this, everyone, Weasley's face is as red as his mother's hair!" Lee cackled into the microphone.

"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall bellowed the words as the Gryffindor team flew down to your side. You groaned loudly, clutching your arm, gritting your teeth. “What’re you all doing?!” you exploded, “they’re going to win!” none of the Gryffindor team, not even Oliver, seemed the least bit frustrated about winning. George pointed and zoomed down to join you all. “Fred’s still playing, absolutely clueless. If he looked at what was going on more than he looked at her boobs, he’d be outrag -”

“JORDAN! TEN POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!”

“Weasley dives down to join the huddle of red and gold, you can’t even see any of his freckles, they’re all camouflaged with the hideous anger, if you have Omnioculars, zoom in, look at how pissed he is - going to be, even more so when he finds out his girlfriend won’t be able to - alright, Professor, alright…” Lee huffed before silencing. The outrage from the Gryffindor stands endured a battle between the cheers and hoots from Slytherin house as Stacey Linkman caught the Snitch. “Slytherin cheats their way to victory in this one…” grumbled Lee, “Slytherin wins.”

“Get out of the way,” you could hear and see Fred shoving Angelina and Katie to the side. Soon he was by yours, George pushed the rest of the team out.

“Think I broke…” you mumbled. “Arm,” you held your right up before cursing loudly, “ow!”

“I told you not to play!” Fred grumbled loudly. “I said ‘sit this one out, we’re going against Slytherin - your arm is already fractured!’ and you said, ‘no, Freddie, I want to play, it’s no fun watching you all!’ and I said, ‘well, fine, then, five Galleons if you break something,’ and you owe me five Galleons!”

You tried to cross your arms before realising you couldn’t, giving him a vicious death glare instead. “I’m going to kill those two cheats if it’s the last thing I can do…” he hissed, fire kindling dangerously in his eyes.

“No idea what he’s saying,” said Lee, still going on with the commentary. “Slytherin house looks like a bunch of smug cheats… and, look! Weasely’s playing doctor! Professor, let me have my fun!”

“Ouch…” you let out a small whimper, Fred’s eyes glowered dangerously as the Slytherin team walked over, smug smiles on each member’s face.

“Good game, L/N,” smirked Pucey, holding out his hand. “Let’s shake on it, eh? Oh, wait,” the rest of the team laughed loudly, cackling. “Must be upsetting, isn’t it, Freckle Fred, when your girlfriend’s the only toy you’ve got, you’re going to have to return her, you won’t even get fifty percent -”

“Fred, stop,” you muttered. “Leave it alone,” Fred took no notice of your words. “Fred, it’s not worth it,”

“Pucey has obviously said something offensive, Weasley’s face is even more red now, Weasley charges Pucey, Weasley Number Two doesn’t even bother to hold his brother back, this is getting interesting!”

“Got something to say, you -”

“Listen here, you little dingbat,” you were positive that you’d never seen Fred this angry since your second grade. “If you think for one second that Y/N is a toy -” he spat the words with disgust, nails digging into his palms. “You can go home to your little Death-Eater -” his snarl was furious, terrifying.

“Fred,” you muttered, “Fred, stop.”

“Come on, Fred, it’s not worth it, mate,” began George. You forced yourself to get up, knowing that Fred would never listen to anyone else.

“Fred, let’s go,” you muttered again, “come on.” He ignored you.

Pucey smirked in satisfaction, crossing his arms with a snicker.

“Well,” Pucey wore an even bigger smirk than he had before, “at least my parents spend their time with time-worthy people rather than yours with Mudbloods,”

Angelina and Katie let out angered gasps. You wished that you could shrink to the size of an ant - so small that not even derogatory terms would be able to hurt and embarrass you.

Because even George was angry now. Not as angry as Fred was, but still angry.

“Pucey calls Y/N a Mudblood, Merlin, he must be wishing for a good kick in the dick!” cackled Lee Jordan, a hint of disgust in his voice that only his close friends would be able to sift out. “Broken arm or two…”

“SHUT UP!” roared both Fred and Professor McGonagall.

“Aren’t you thick?” growled Fred, “haven’t your foul parents taught you to read a room?”

“They have,” snapped Pucey back, “and I do, only when I want to.”

“You over entitled piece of -” began George loudly.

“Who are his parents, anyway?” Whispered Katie. Oliver shrugged, watching silently.

Fred’s lip curled.

“One’s in Azkaban,” he stood his ground, and the other’s friends with the Malfoys. Bill told us last year,” hissed Fred.

“At least my parents taught me the worth of Muggles and their kids. Which is -” Adrian turned to you, “a big, fat, zero.”

Fred charged him.

“Don’t - you - dare - insult - her - or her - family - in front of - me - STUPEFY!”

“Fred!”

“Weasley casts Stupefy on Pucey, serves him right!”

Fortunately, Fred didn’t get all of him. He did get his nose, though, and because Stupefy didn’t really work on body parts, there was a loud crack. You and the girls gasped, covering your mouths in horror.

George shook his head in dismay.

Professor McGonagall, Snape, Madame Hooch and Promfrey came running down.

“Fifty points from Gryffindor! Detention, Mr. Weasley! A week’s worth -”

“Now, now, Professor Snape,” Professor McGonagall came to Gryffindor (and Fred’s)’s rescue, tutting loudly. “Although duelling is against school rules, Mr. Weasley had a very good reason for it - Mr. Pucey did break Miss L/N’s arm (with aid from Mr. Zabini, who will be put on a week’s worth of Quidditch ban, Mr. Pucey will also be spending that week’s ban in the Hospital Wing, and Madame Pomfrey will put him in her utmost care (although not too comfortable)), and I will be deducting fifty points from Slytherin for the use of derogatory language and violence and I will ask Madame Hooch what she would like to do.”

Snape seethed through his nose.

“Yes, Minerva, a week’s worth of Quidditch ban will be perfect for Mr. Zabini. Miss L/N may have to take a few day’s break and because Slytherin cheated their way to victory, Gryffindor win.” Madame Hooch waved her wand and you assumed that the numbers on the scoreboard had changed.

“Lemons really do make lemonade! Broken arms award ten winning points! L/N, break a literal leg next week, please!”

Gryffindor house roared with laughter.

“Alright, Miss L/N, Mr. Pucey, come with me...”

I suck at endings lmaoooooo. I AM SO SORRY I TOOK LIKE TEN YEARS TO WRITE THIS OMG THE OTHERS ARE COMING I PROMISE GUYS

MASTERLIST

#fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x reader #fred and goerge weasley #fred weasley x reader imagine #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley x gryffindor reader #fred weasley x reader broken arm #fred weasley x injured reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x fem reader #i took ten years to write this #george weasley x reader

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babybluebex · 3 years

Text

not your duke [tom holland x reader]

➽ pairing: prince!tom holland x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 2.7k ➽ summary: at the dawn of the new century, you meet two men: one, your betrothed, and the other, a prince with a secret. ➽ warnings: explicit language, gothic era shit bc i live for that ➽ a/n: many thanks to the loml @earthlyholland for coming up with the title and urging me to finish writing this i luv u kiss

Nothing had ever drawn you into London. In fact, you were staunchly opposed to the idea when your father first told you that you were moving. What was the point of it? You knew that your father could conduct business as easily from the States as from England, but what’s done is done. You had lived in London for a short time, only a few months, before you realized the real reason why your father relocated you.

You met your fiancé at a party. London was known for its aristocracy, and your father’s banking business had put him in high regard with many of the British elite, so it wasn’t a surprise that you were invited to a New Years party. “The Osterfields,” your father told you. “I’m told they have a son only just older than you.”

“Really?” you asked, looking out the window, hardly curious. “His name?”

“Harrison,” your father told you. The carriage bumped along the street, and you swayed with it. “The Honourable Harrison Osterfield of Kingston.”

“Of course he’s noble,” you muttered. “Father, will you ever stop trying to marry me off?”

“Your younger sister is already married,” your father reminded you. “If it’s not soon, it’ll never happen. And Sir Harrison is a perfectly agreeable gentleman.”

“Agreeable to you,” you scoffed.

“He’s an Oxford-educated man,” your father pressed. “Well-read, which I know is something you covet. I’m told he’s a good conversationalist as well; I guess you’ll be able to judge that for yourself tonight.”

You cried out in opposition. “Father! Am I to meet Little Lord Fauntelroy tonight?”

“Watch your tongue, girl. You are to meet your fiancé tonight.”

The New Years party hosted by the Baron and Baroness Osterfield was what you expected, a lush spectacle of champagne and pleasing music and perfume. It wasn’t the sort of place that you usually found comfort at, but you tried your best; the Baron Osterfield was a close business partner of your father’s, and you couldn’t afford to muck everything up by having a foul attitude. “Lord Osterfield,” my father began, placing a hand on my back to usher me into his conversation. “Might I introduce my daughter?”

The man before you was older, his fair hair tinged with a bit of grey, but he was dressed wonderfully in his tails and a red tie. “Pleasure to meet you, miss,” he said in a sonorous voice. “You’re the lass that’s engaged to our Haz, yes?”

“So I’ve been told,” you smiled, and your father sent a warning pinch to your back through your dress. Attitude, you could hear him scolding you.

“Have you met him yet?” Lord Osterfield asked. “He’s a strapping lad; running around with his uni mates, I’m sure.” He looked around the room, bustling with activity, and he made a quick motion with his hand when he spotted someone across the room.

The space before you was suddenly filled by a young man, still older than you, blond hair and green eyes, a wonderful smile on his face and his cheeks blushed. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you, and he took your hand in a gentle but strong hold. “Hello, madam,” he said cordially. “I’m called Harrison. Haz, to most.”

“Haz,” you repeated slowly. “I’d rather keep with Lord Osterfield, if that pleases you.”

“Of course, madam,” Harrison said. “Might I interest you in a turn about the garden? It’s such a lovely night.”

You looked to your father for permission, and he patted your back with a nod. Harrison saw this and gave a smile, and you hooked your arm with his as he led you out into the cold December night. Harrison’s body was warm and you found yourself moving into him, and he finally stopped at a metal bench along the path. “Do you mind if I smoke?” Harrison asked, settling himself onto the bench.

You shrugged. Harrison took that to mean “No”, and he situated a cigarette in his mouth. It was rolled perfectly, either the work of a skilled amateur or a professional; either way, it was the smallest proof of his aristocracy. All of your friends smoked lopsided cigarettes that had tobacco that spilled out of the ends.

“I’m sure you like this as well as I do,” Harrison began. “I told my parents that I prefer to marry for love, but my younger sister is already married. They said it was getting to be--”

“Too late,” you supplied. “My father said the same of me.”

“You prefer to marry for love as well?” Harrison asked. Feeling slightly more at ease than before, you sat down next to him, fiddling with your skirt to lay right.

“I would like to,” you said. “But we both know that’s not possible.”

Harrison shrugged. “We only have a few minutes left of this year,” he said, looking at the Swiss watch on his wrist. “Who knows? Maybe 1900 holds newfound possibilities.”

You tilted your head. “What makes you so sure?” you asked.

“I’m not sure,” Harrison chuckled. A strand of blond escaped the rest of his styled hair, and you gently pushed it back, earning you a smile from your fiancé. “I’m just hopeful.”

“Hope can be dangerous,” you remarked.

“That’s true,” Harrison said. “But what’s the harm in having a little hope? Perhaps we can learn to love each other.”

“Perhaps we can,” you agreed. “I guess we have the rest of our lives to do that.”

Harrison smiled at you, and you huffed out a laugh. He pulled a drag from his cigarette, and he said, “So we’re getting married, huh?”

“Seems like it.”

There was a shout from the house, one that made Harrison look over, and you did as well to see a man, about the same age as Harrison, dressed nicely with curly hair, half-hanging out of the house. “Haz, get your stupid arse in here!” the man yelled. “Find your girl, the clock’s about to turn!”

“I have my girl, you git!” Harrison cried. Before either of you could say anything, the man slipped from the house and came over to the two of you, and Harrison rolled his eyes. “Here we go…” he whispered.

“This is her?” the man asked. He was British too, and he smiled at you widely.

“Yes,” Harrison said, and he stood up. You did the same, and Harrison carefully took your hand. “This is Y/N, my fiancé.”

“Ah,” the man said. “Hello, madam.”

“Y/N, this is one of my mates from university,” Harrison told you. “Duke Harold Holland of Kingston-Upon-Thames.”

“Call me Harry,” he said quickly. “Everyone else does.”

“Harry,” you said with a relieved smile. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Harry said. “Have you only just met?”

“Just several minutes ago,” Harrison told him, his arm snaking around your waist.

“Well, it’s quite cold out,” Harry said. “And the clock’s about to turn. Come in, madam, get a drink.”

“Oh, I don’t drink,” you told Lord Harry Holland of Kingston-Upon-Thames quickly. “It doesn’t agree with me.”

“No matter,” Harry said. “I’ll warn you, though: a drink completely agrees with your fiancé.” He gave a laugh, and you noticed that Harrison shifted uncomfortably next to you.

“Well, Christ, don’t make me out to be a drunkard,” Harrison laughed nervously. “You’ll frighten her away, and we only just agreed to go through with this.”

“Not meant to frighten you, madam,” Harry said quickly. “In fact, my oldest brother doesn’t drink. Perhaps you two will get along.”

“Oh, no, Harry, she’ll hate Thomas,” Harrison sighed. He looked at you, then added, “Thomas is quite a bore, honestly. Not nearly as fun as me, Harry or Sam.”

“Sam? Thomas?” you asked. You agreed that Haz and Harry seemed like fun, but anxiety thrummed in your chest. If Thomas was a bore to Harrison, you didn’t want to know what he truly thought of you. You could easily also be classified as a bore: you preferred reading and drawing to the piano or squash that was popular with your friends. You had done ballet when you were growing up, but were by no means athletic otherwise.

“My twin brother, Samuel,” Harry began. “And Thomas is… Haz is right, he’s an awful bore. He brought a fucking book tonight, can you believe it? What sort of sod brings a book to a party?”

“But Thomas is a good friend,” Harrison added. “He’s a wonderful listener and gives excellent advice.”

You nodded slowly. Thomas already seemed like a better match than Harrison, and you cursed your father. Of course he would match you with someone who wasn’t the best option for you. But no matter. Your fiancé offered you his arm and you took it, and you followed the men back into the ballroom. There was a renewed energy, and the ballroom was abuzz. You were introduced to Duke Samuel Holland, a man who bore a striking resemblance to Harry (as they should), and were briefly told about the twins’ younger brother, a boy of sixteen named Lord Patrick. The Honourable Charlotte Osterfield came after Sam, and she was giggling the entire night; she was engaged to Sir Tuwaine Barrett of Chelsea, another uni mate of your fiance’s.

“Where is Thomas?” Harrison asked, looking around wildly. “He promised me that he’d be my New Years’ kiss!”

“Did he swear to it as he did to Nadia?” Harry chortled. “I bet he’s gone home already. Slipped away without any of us noticing.”

The clock chimed, and Harrison turned his jade gaze back to you. You gave him a gleeful look over the brim of your champagne as you took a sip, and your body cowered at the bitterness of the French alcohol. “Happy New Year, dearest,” Harrison said quietly, just for you to hear. “Here’s to many more.”

You nodded. Suddenly, your chest felt tight, and your head was spinning, and you knew it wasn’t from the alcohol. You suddenly saw the rest of your life flash in front of your eyes: The Honorable Lady Osterfield, on your husband’s arm every single day, expected to please him and serve him. You didn’t want that.

“Y/N,” Harrison said, putting a hand on your shoulder. His eyebrows were furrowed, and you at least felt comforted at his genuine worry. “You look pale. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “Quite fine. I told you that alcohol doesn’t agree well with me.”

Harrison nodded, his lips drawn thin, and he turned to Harry. “Call her carriage,” he instructed him. “I think my dearest needs to go home.”

Harry nodded, giving you a worried look, but hurried off to do as his friend requested. Harrison took the flute of champagne from you and set it down, and he put a hand on your back. “I hate that you’ve gone ill,” he said. “I do wish we can see each other again, though. I enjoy your company greatly.”

“And I, yours,” you replied. “I really apologize for my behavior--”

“Harrison,” a booming voice came, and you looked to see the Baron Osterfield approaching you. “I need to speak with you, son.”

“Father, can it wait?” Harrison asked. “I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

“His Majesty needs to speak to you,” Lord Osterfield said. “A business venture, he says.”

Harrison looked from you to his father, and he chewed his bottom lip. “I’ll be right there,” he told his father. “I just need to escort Y/N to her carriage.”

“Harrison, Dominic cannot be kept waiting,” Lord Osterfield grumbled. “Especially not on such a matter.”

Harrison looked at you once more, then his eyes caught someone behind you. “Thomas,” he said. “Thomas! Come here, please!”

Your heart hit against the wall of your chest when you finally saw Thomas Holland. He was a well-built man, wearing nice clothes that were a bit worn in places. His hair was dark, and in frizzy curls, crawling down his face, as was the fashion. His eyes were the color of amber, his cheeks pink, his lips thin but like a rose. He had a book under his arm, bound in leather, a bit of paper sticking from the top. “Would you do me an amazing favor?” Harrison asked. “I have to speak to your father; can you escort Y/N to her carriage out front?”

“Y/N?” Thomas asked, and your heart warmed and melted just like chocolate. He had a beautiful voice, and you could just imagine the way he sounded as he read aloud.

“My betrothed,” Harrison said, gesturing to you. “She’s fallen ill and must be taken home at once.”

Thomas finally pulled his gaze to your face, and a lopsided smile came across his face. “Oh, of course,” he said. “Such an honor to meet you, madam.”

“Same to you, sir,” you said. “I’ve heard tell about you.”

Thomas’s smile faltered. “Good things?” he asked.

“Nothing but the best,” you said. You still felt dizzy, but Thomas’s warm hand on your arm brought you comfort, much more than Harrison’s did. “I apologize again, Lord Osterfield. I hope to see you soon.”

Harrison kissed the back of your hand. “Same to you, dearest.”

Thomas led you out of the crowded and loud ballroom to the front of the manor. “Lord Osterfield?” he chuckled lowly. “He’s your fiancé. You should call him by his name.”

You shrugged. “I can’t bring myself to,” you said. “I hardly know him.”

Thomas nodded. “I understand,” he said. “So… Harrison told you good things about me?” You nodded, and Thomas let out a laugh. You could tell that it was bitter, though. “Excuse my language, madam, but that’s a load of horseshit. You know it as well as I do. Harrison only puts up with me because my brothers are his closest mates.”

You were startled at his honesty. “I suppose that’s true,” you mumbled. “My sisters are the same with me. They call me boring, say I’m no fun.”

“The same is said of me,” Thomas said. “I’m perhaps the least commendable of my brothers.”

You nodded carefully, then tilted your head to look at his novel. “What are you reading?” you asked.

Thomas smiled. “You’d like to know what I’m reading?” he asked. “Are you actually curious?”

“Yes!” you said. “I just read the most wonderful novel, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. It’s called McTeague and it’s about an American dentist--”

“By Frank Norris?” Thomas asked excitedly. He pulled out the book to show you, and you smiled at the same one you had been describing. “It’s so entertaining. You’ve finished it, then?”

“Just last night,” you told him. “I won’t spoil it for you, but it was so wonderful.”

“Have you read The Picture of Dorian Gray?” Thomas asked. When you shook your head, Thomas’s face went red, and he laughed. “It’s my favorite. I could lend you my copy, if you’d like.”

“Oh, Thomas, that would be so lovely,” you gushed. “You’re too kind.”

Thomas shrugged. “You’re my best mate’s girl,” he said. “I’m obligated to be kind to you.”

You chewed your bottom lip. “And what of your wife?” you asked. “Am I to meet her soon?”

Thomas came to a stop at the edge of the steps, casting a glance out at the carriage that rumbled closer. “I am unwedded,” he said. “Courtships have come and gone, but none have ever come to fruition. My father believes in me proposing rather than being forced into marriage, but I’ve never found a lady that I truly loved.”

Your carriage stopped before the two of you, and the Osterfield’s servant opened the door for you. “Miss Y/L/N,” he said, then turned his attention to Thomas, and he lowered his head in reverence. “Your Highness.”

“Your Highness?” you repeated, and your heart flipped in your chest. “But I thought that you were a duke?”

“My brothers are,” Thomas explained. “But, seeing as I’m the oldest and heir apparent, I get a different tile.”

“Your Highness, though?” you chuckled. “What are you, a prince?”

Your laughter died when you saw the stony look on Thomas’s face. “Yes,” he said. “Did Harrison not tell you?”

You shifted. No. Please, God, you pleaded. Don’t let it be true.

A smile played at Thomas’s face. “My lady,” he said. “I’m Thomas Stanley Holland. Prince Thomas of England.”

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland au #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland x reader #prince!tom holland

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hello-everyfandom · 4 years

Text

“You scared the hell out of me!”

Warnings: Injury?

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Words: 1.4k

Summary: George is severely injured during a grizzly quidditch match.

You could feel the wind slapping at your cheeks. The chilling air and the light rain was hitting your bones. You’re not even sure you can feel your fingers anymore as a numbing cool burned your face. But, the unfriendly cold was not one of the thousands of thoughts running through your mind. The only thing you could think of was the sight of your boyfriend plummeting from the sky. Red and gold quidditch robes sputtering around him, you could make out his reddish hair through the fog of the field. The crowd watched, gasps, and screams as the younger Weasley twin fell off his broom after a bludger pummeled into his side. The Slytherin quidditch team was known to be violent on the pitch and he had taken harder hits before, but for some reason, the bludger knocked the wind out of him and sent him towards the bottom of the field. George would never admit this knowing full well you’d be guilt-ridden, but he was painfully distracted as he needlessly searched for you in the crowd. His distraction resulted in Slytherin’s beater full force smashing the black ball into him.

“No!” Your voice escaped you, you were surprised you even could speak. Fear, desperation and dread-filled you to the brim. The game halted as the Gryffindor team quickly crowded around him. You could see Fred by his twin’s side immediately and wished you could be there in the pitch to hold George’s hand.

“Weasley has been hit by the slimy, git Slytherin player Goyle-” Lee was quickly cut off by Professor McGonagall’s voice.

“Students, stay in your seats.” She commanded.

George’s body was carried off on a stretcher, his robes dirtied from the mud. Your fellow classmates began their nosy whispers as your eyes were trained on his body. Wood and Fred began to yell at the ref to call for a foul, however, you couldn’t focus on anything.

“He’s going to be alright,” Hermione assured you, giving you a small but worried smile. “They’ll take him to the infirmary and Madame Pomfrey will care for him.” But her words slipped through the air and disappeared into nothingness.

The game continued but all you could do was sit and tightly grip your pants anxiously. Gryffindor won despite the lack of a key player and the second Harry caught the golden snitch, you sprung out of your seat and shoved your way through the unruly crowd. Mud stuck to your shoes and your hair was plastered on your face as you sprinted from the Quidditch pitch into the halls of Hogwarts. Long corridors mocked you as you hurried through, slipping a bit here and there. As you reached the hospital wing doors, a pair of footsteps sounded from behind you. Hard and fast, you turned quickly to see Fred behind your tail. The two of you, out of breath and worry seeping into your bones, you pushed the doors open.

Madame Pomfrey glanced at the two of you, a tray of bandages and a few mismatched bottles in her hands.

“Mr. Weasley, Ms. Y/L/N,” she addressed you two, setting down her tray and leading you towards the infirmary beds, “He has two shattered ribs and will have to wear a sling, but he’s alright.”

The two of you approached the bed quickly, George’s face seemed peaceful. Almost deathly. His jersey was discarded and across his chest were a few bandages.

“I must warn you, I gave him something for the pain, so I’m not sure he will be entirely himself when he wakes up.” Madame Pomfrey said curtly before turning around and disappearing from sight.

You pulled up a chair, close to George’s side as Fred did the same. Holding his uninjured hand in yours, you reached up to swiftly push a few stray hairs off his forehead.

“He’s alright.” You let out a breath of air. Fred nodded reassuringly at you before staring at his brother.

“Has he always had that freckle there?” Fred asked jokingly and pointed at the larger freckle near George’s collar bone.

“Only you wouldn’t know. You’re his brother! Even worse, his twin.” You shot back teasingly.

A voice pipped up between the two of you.

“Who’s the worst?” George’s voice was rough and hoarse. He blinked open his eyes and peered at the two of you.

“George! You’re alright, mate. You gave us a scare.” Fred grinned.

“Who...” George muttered. You leaned in closer to him, smelling the dirt and grass from his game. “Who...?”

“George?” You asked worriedly.

“Who are you people? Who is George?” He finally asked making Fred’s mouth drop. You felt your heart thud as you began to tear up.

“W-what?” You stuttered, holding his hand tighter.

George’s confused face and furrowed eyebrows unraveled into a joyful smile. “I’m only pulling your leg!” You gasped and hit his shoulder.

“George Weasley! Don’t you ever do that again! You scared the hell out of me!” You yelled with a smile. George laughed with a thundering voice before wincing painfully and holding his ribs. Fred mimicked his smile and shook his head.

“Even after being hit with a bludger and nearly making a dent in the pitch, you’re still trying to prank us?” Fred said.

“I’m telling you, I barely feel a thing.” George’s voice spoke with bravery, but you could see slight pain and discomfort in his eyes.

“Oh really?” Fred asked and prodded George in the stomach. George let out a groan and quickly slapped his hand away.

“Fred, piss off, why don’t you?” He grumbled before looking at you, “Not you though.” His eyes softened.

You beamed and scooted closer, “Yes, Fred.” You agreed, “Why don’t you go take a shower? You smell like armpits and Snape’s cauldron closet.”

Fred gasped dramatically before standing up, “Fine! I can see when I’m not wanted.” Sent the two of you a wink before turning sharply on his heel and heading towards Gryffindor tower.

George squeezed your hand.“What about you, sweetheart. Did I give you a scare?”

“Who me? You pointed at yourself in a fake surprise, “No no, of course not. I actually particularly enjoy watching my boyfriend fall thousands of meters from the sky. It was the highlight of my day, I’d say.” You sarcastically replied.

“Whoa whoa,” George put his hands up in defense, “ ‘m only wondering how my woman was feeling.” He sent you a charming smile before moving to the side of his bed.

“Now what the bloody hell are you doing?” You asked, trying to pull the sheet up over his body again.

“ ‘m making space for you, of course.” He said as what he was doing was obvious.

“I can’t come in the bed with you! You just hurt your ribs!” You shook your head adamantly.

George wiggled his eyebrows, “If you’d like me to make you come that can be arranged!” Immediately your cheeks flushed darker as you sputtered out.

“George Weasley! You are getting on my absolute nerves right now!” But you couldn’t ignore his cheeky smile nor his tired eyes.

“Will you just,” he patted the bed, “lay down for a little bit? Please? I got hurt really badly.” He tried to guilt-trip you, lowering his eyes and elongating his words. “Please, love?” You glanced quickly to see if you could spot Madame Pomfrey. She would surely have your head if the two of you were caught snuggled up in the hospital bed. But it was hard to deny George, especially after his fall from the quidditch pitch you were afraid he’d cease to exist or something.

“Alright, alright. Quit whining and shove on over,.” You mumbled before kicking off your muddy shoes and crawling into his bed. “But you must tell me if I’m hurting you or not, don’t be a baby about it.” You tutted at him.

George grinned and winced while pulling his arms around you.

“Now, how about a kiss?” George jutted out his lips and puckered making you laugh and push his face away.

“Don’t push it, Weasley.” You brushed the hair off his forehead again, before setting your lips between his. A quick but meaningful kiss as you pecked his lips once more before settling into the uncomfortable hospital bed.

“ ‘m just glad you’re alright, that’s all.”

“More than alright, darling. I have my love with me, that’s all I need.”

You kissed his chest before replying sweetly, “I love you too.”

“Ms. Y/L/N I’m going to ignore that you and Mr. Weasley are in bed together, but I expect you to leave before sundown.” Madame Pomfrey’s voice called from the front. You blushed a deep red as George smirked and pulled you closer.

#George Weasley Imagine #george weasley #george weasley imagines #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley #george and fred weasley #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter oneshot #harry potter headcanon #george weasley x reader #george weasley oneshot #quidditch

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cursestothemoon · 3 years

Text

You’re My Best Mate

Requested: yes

Ron Weasley x platonic!reader (gryffindor)

Word count: 1522

This was my first request and first platonic!reader so i really hope you guys enjoy this :)))

✧✧✧

“Blimey, Y/n! If I had known that your potions essay was going to take this long I would’ve made sure to get my dinner first.”

Ron was, yet again, complaining about how long it was taking for you to finish your potions essay, an essay he was so keen to copy off of just yesterday.

“You can leave if you want, ya know?” You grunted without looking up from your parchment. “Also how do you spell ‘chizpurfle carapace’?”

The silence causes you to look up, only to be at the receiving end of a look telling you that he was in too much of a mood right now to help you.

Snorting you turned back to the parchment, “Nevermind, I’ll sound it out, mate. No need to get your knickers in a twist.”

“My knickers are not in a twist. Thank you for your concern.” Ron said, sarcasm oh so evident.

It had been an hour now, you guys had taken all of your free period and were now cutting into your dinner to finish the potions essay that would be due not tomorrow but the day after. Ron had already been in a foul mood after hearing about Hermione and Cormac McLaggen going to a Slug Club party together.

“Just go eat and you can copy off of Hermione later.” You knew it would rile him up, it’s why you said it.

Ron scoffs at the suggestion, “Please, she’s probably off snogging McLaggen.”

“Maybe if you weren’t a right git and just asked her out already she would be snogging you instead, Weasley.”

Ron huffed at your pointed look but decided against arguing, he knew you were right and he definitely didn’t like it.

The next twenty minutes, thankfully, went by mostly in silence which allowed you to finish your essay. No one was more excited for the announcement that you were done than Ron, who quickly stood up and helped you stuff your books into your bag claiming two was faster than one.

You handed him your bag as you both started to walk out of the library, Ron absentmindedly swinging it over his shoulder, ushering you out.

“Oh, by the way, mum’s asked about you. Wondering if you’ll make it over for Christmas this year? She’s making your favorite for dess-”

“I’ll be there.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice, especially when you knew Molly was making an English Trifle and not just any trifle, this was Molly Weasley’s English Trifle.

“Yeah, alright. Assumed that much, I already told her you’d be coming.”

You were suddenly giddy thinking about seeing Molly and Arthur again, they were like your second family and she was making a trifle.

“Made you shouldn’t come, you won’t leave any trifle for me. Like three years ago, remember that, when you came over and ate all the pie?”

The thought of that warm pecan pie made your stomach grumble, maybe you shouldn’t have cut into dinner for the essay.

“Oh yeah, that pie was great. Reckon she can make it next year?”

Ron shook his head with a laugh, “If you were the one to ask, probably.”

The Great Hall echoed with the voices from all four houses, dinner was well on its way already and Ron made sure to groan his disapproval at the already empty plates of rolls. Lucky for him, you were an incredibly thoughtful friend and only a mild kleptomaniac.

“No biscuits either, bloody hell.”

You pulled the roll out of your pocket and handed it to him with a knowing look.

“You're the best, Y/n.”

“Just shut up and eat it, Ernie Macmillan is starting to wonder where his bread went.”

Ron was quick to take a bite as you rushed to sit down at the Gryffindor table, Ernie seemingly none the wiser that it was you who swiped his roll.

You started to pile food onto your plate, quite hungry considering last you had a full meal was during breakfast. You thought to reach for the bowl of potatoes, but before you could push your arm out to grab them Ron thrust a spoonful on your plate.

“Thanks.”

With a quick glance at his plate you noticed what he was missing and was quick to grab it.

“Ron, you want some chi-”

“Yeah, throw me a wing. You want so-”

You shook your head, “I’ve got some already, mate.”

Ginny and Dean Thomas watched the interaction with furrowed eyebrows, it was odd how you two seemed to speak without words.

“How do you guys do that?”

Dean was the one to ask, Ginny having been rather used to it. Over summer she watched this happen during breakfast, somehow you and Ron would simultaneously fill each other's plates with little to no words spoken.

“Do what?” Ron and you both asked at the same time, looking up with identical looks of confusion.

“You guys talk...without talking. It’s weird.”

Ron seemed to look even more confused than before, “They’re my best mate, why wouldn’t I know what they want to eat?”

“Yeah, I’ve known Ron for ages. We’ve had meals together before.” You said matter of factly.

“It’s just...nevermind.” Dean shrugged figuring he wasn’t going to get anywhere with the two of you.

Ron turned to you with a grimace.

“Blimey, git doesn’t think I’d know what my best mate would want to eat.”

“Reckon he’s not that great of a mate then.”

Ron shuttered but made sure to whisper, “Not after I saw him snogging my little sister.”

You made Ron promise to tell you what had happened later in the common room, you were far too close to the culprit now to talk openly about it and knowing Ron, he could get rather loud when angered. You two carried on eating, occasionally joining in conversations around you but as the night grew older, your eyelids grew heavier.

The walk back to the Gryffindor towers was mundane, Harry and Hermione (busy with Slug Club stuff) joined you and Ron on the way. The new addition caused Ron to grumble next to you, your hand shooting out to pinch his side as a way of telling him to behave himself.

“Oi, pinch me one more time and I’ll whack you with a broom.” Ron said quietly.

You subtly turned to answer, “Stop mumbling like an angry git and I won’t have to pinch you.”

“Fine.”

He seemed to keep his word the rest of the way to the common room and plopped onto the couch, your bag hugged in his lap as his expression contorted into one of a very grumpy old lady as he watched Hermione go up to her dorm to knit a few more elf hats.

You reached a hand out to grab your bag, “Can I just get this ba-”

“Maybe I’m being too forward. I should cool it down, right Y/n? It’s a bit much, isn't it?”

The eye roll you couldn't help, along with the groan of annoyance was enough for him to realize that you didn’t agree.

The friendship between you two has been strong since first year. Your families got along, and you had a knack for being able to understand things from a different view than he did, often offering up pretty sound advice because of this. He trusted you, a lot, and vice versa. Ron was like your brother, your taller, ginger brother and you knew he saw you as another sibling. The friendship was sound and strong, leaving you two to be able to have little to no fear of speaking your minds to each other. So when your disagreement was as vocal as it just had been, he had no choice but to listen.

“Ron, you're my best mate, I love you, and I’m going to be completely honest right now, alright?”

Ron nodded leaning forward, “Get on with it then.”

“You are the most emotionally constipated person I have ever, in my years, met. She likes you Ron, a lot. And she has reason to, good looking bloke, you've got the red hair going for you.” You said motioning to his hair.

He nodded, a hand coming up to touch his hair, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“But you are tragically dense. Just talk to her.”

The conversation shifted after Ron agreed with you, he was emotionally constipated. He broke into a retelling of the time he beat Cormac McLaggen during the tryouts and turned to look at your reaction but he turned to face you with eyes closed, lips slightly parted, and even breaths. He smiled to himself and took it as his queue to go to bed also.

Before going however, he moved off the couch and gently shuffled you into a more comfortable lying down position on the now free sofa. He grabbed a blanket from the trunk by the fireplace and draped it over you, careful to cover your toes (he took your shoes off also) and your shoulders.

With a final pat to your shoulder, Ron muttered a quiet, “Night Y/n.” And made his way to his dorm.

#Ron Weasley #ron weasley imagine #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #weasley #platonic!reader x ron weasley

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nah-she-didnt · 3 years

Text

A Favor

Hey y’all, here’s fic #5! I’m still hoping to complete a fic or drabble a day for my first week with my new page. This is also my first attempt at Hinny, my OG ship. Thank you to everyone who’s commented or reblogged in the last few days, it means the world!

Harry found himself in the library with Hermione one Sunday night desperately trying to make a dent in his Defense essay. Snape had asked for four whole rolls of parchment on defensive jinxes and their use in combat, but Harry found it difficult to concentrate on his homework at the moment.

His thoughts were still down on the quidditch pitch where he and his team had spent a frustrating practice preparing for their upcoming match against Slytherin. Most of the team had flown well, especially Ginny, who was shaping up to be one of the best chasers Hogwarts had seen in years. However, the rest of the team’s successes had been eclipsed by Ron’s foul temper.

Ron had been increasingly unpleasant ever since he and Harry found Ginny and Dean snogging in that bloody hidden corridor. He’d spent the entire practice tonight shooting glares at Ginny, missing every goal thrown at him, and yelling so ferociously at poor Demelza Robbins that she had nearly burst into tears. Harry had done his best to keep his team’s hopes up as practice ended but he still felt a sense of doom as the match approached. He just couldn’t see how Ron’s mood could stage a recovery spectacular enough to put him in any fit state to play on Saturday. He had to think of something that he could do to--

“Harry?”

Harry started out of his thoughts of Ron and quidditch. Catching his ink bottle before it toppled over onto his Defense notes, Harry looked up. Ginny was standing above him looking bemused.

“Sorry, interrupt a deep thought, did I captain?”

“You sound surprised,” grumbled Harry, running a hand through his hair. “What’s up?”

“Well...to tell you the truth, it’s about Ron,” she said cautiously.

Harry groaned inwardly. It was getting harder and harder to defend Ron’s behavior the last few days, particularly to Hermione and Ginny.

“What about him?” he asked innocently. Ginny frowned.

“Oh, not much, except he’s become a complete and utter git.”

Harry glanced sideways at Hermione. She was pretending not to listen to this conversation, but Harry was convinced that he saw a look of agreement on Hermione’s face.

Harry looked back up at Ginny. “Yeah, I suppose he has been. I’m sorry about practice, Gin. He’s, uh, got a lot on his mind.”

Ginny snorted. “Clearly.”

“No, really,” said Harry defensively, “you know how he gets about quidditch. He always turns himself inside out before a match. I’m sure he’ll be back to normal soon.”

“You forget, Harry, that I know my dear brother far better than you do,” Ginny grimaced. “Anyway, that’s not what I’m here to talk about.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in his stomach. Ginny had sought him, Harry, out for a chat. He liked the feeling of knowing that Ginny had been thinking about him.

“I was wondering if I could have a favor. Could you use your captain powers for good this week and find some reasons to keep Ron after practice? He’s started this infuriating habit of dogging Dean when he leaves the pitch, like he’s going to jump my bones as soon as we’re alone together. But you see, it actually is keeping us from having any time together at all without Ronniekins present.”

Harry’s stomach sank. Of course she wanted help to see her boyfriend. Her boyfriend, Dean, not Harry. He had to remember that.

Harry rubbed his forehead. “I dunno Ginny, he hasn’t been to keen to talk these days. What am I supposed to say to keep him back?”

“Tell him you want to talk strategy or something. God knows he needs it.” Ginny clasped her fingers together as if begging. “Please, Harry, I haven’t been able to eat a meal alone with my boyfriend in more than a week. It’s driving me mad.”

Harry looked up at Ginny’s glowing face. No, her normal, not-glowing, not-luminescent face. The face of his best friend’s little sister. He sighed.

“Sure, Gin. Whatever you need.”

“Harry, you’re an absolute star,” said Ginny as she clapped him on the shoulder. “I owe you one.”

“Not at all” said Harry dully. He would have to remember to find a reason to set Dean extra laps at the end of next practice. No, that would be childish. Or would it...

Ginny beamed at Hermione, said one last ‘thank you’ to Harry, then disappeared back into the stacks of library books.

Harry sat dumbfounded for a moment. He had just agreed to help Ginny, a girl he most certainly did not fancy and did not think had the most beautiful fiery red hair of anyone he’d ever seen, spend even more time with her boyfriend. He tried not to think about what other corridors Ginny and Dean could explore together while he kept a moody Ron occupied on the pitch.

Hermione gave a small cough next to him. Harry looked at her, annoyed. “Something to say?”

“Oh, no,” Hermione said lightly, “things must be going well between her and Dean for her to ask for your help, of all people.”

Harry gaped at her. “What’s that supposed to mean? What do you mean, ‘me of all people?’ Why wouldn’t she ask me for help?”

Hermione finally tore her eyes away from her own essay to look up innocently at Harry. “I only meant that you’re her brother’s best mate. She must have known that she could trust you not to tell Ron she’d asked.”

Harry blinked. “Oh, uh, right... She must have known I’d help.”

Hermione looked at him curiously for a moment. “What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing. Look, I’ve got to go, Hermione. I’m not getting this stupid essay done tonight.” And with that, Harry packed his bag and got up to leave the table.

As he left the library, Harry was sure that he heard Hermione whisper to herself in an exasperated tone, “Boys.”

#hinny #hinny fic #one shot #canon compliant #harry james potter #ginny weasley #nina writes #hp fanfic #harry potter/ginny weasley #harry is simp nation

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fweasleyswhore · 4 years

Text

F.W. Who We Are

Chapter One: One More Time

a/n: ok chapter one! i was going to start with a one shot but got rather carried away with this idea so this will prob be a three - five chapter kind of thing. hope you like it !!

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader / Slytherin!reader

Summary: fred and george tell you their idea for a new prank. cute fluff with some memories. (groundwork for upcoming chapters)

Word Count: 3.2k

I always looked forward to Christmas, every year it was a chance to go home and relax, considering everything that had happened in the past two years, watching your friends battle death itself when they themselves barely understood it as it is. I looked at Ron, Hermione, and Harry like little siblings, and watching them constantly get tackled with hardships and pain hurt me. I often put myself out on the line for them, I was only a year older than them but I knew if in their position I would want help too.

Ron was actually how I met Fred and George, although I knew of them due to their pranks on the student body I didn’t know them personally. Their company was worth the many times I stuck my neck out for the trio. I reminisced on the times I almost died or nearly got expelled but it was completely worth it, my friendship blossomed with George first, he never let me forget how I helped save Ron and Harry from the forbidden forest spiders, he would go as far as to tease Ron about having a crush on me but I assured him Ron had a thing for Hermione. Fred took longer to warm up to me though, I thought he hated me at first but he’s a sweetheart, just was shy, I understood why with my house being what it was.

“Ah, my favorite imposter. How are you Y/N?” George asks. I turn around from my position on the couch, grinning up to George and Fred. The Gryffindor common room had become like a second home to me. I believe I spend more time here than my Slytherin common room, the portrait just lets me in, although I believe that may be because it was hexed by the twins.

“I am doing swimmingly George, although I would be doing better had you two arrived on time.” I said, still smiling. It was no secret that the boys tended to make plans and be anywhere from 20 to nearly 40 minutes late.

“Have you ever considered that you are always early? We never said 2 o’clock I remember us saying 2-ish.” Fred said as he plopped down on the couch. He adjusted for a moment finally sprawling about and placing his head in my lap. He grinned up to me and I could feel my face begin to flush. I turned my attention to George who promptly smacked Fred on the forehead, I assume for taking all the space up on the couch before sitting on the floor in front of us.

Finally, I spoke again once I knew that my voice wouldn’t falter. “2-ish does not mean after 3.” I flicked Fred on the head and he yelped dramatically and placed his hand over his heart with a hurt look on his face.

“You can’t act like you want our company and then bully us!” Fred said, drawing out his dramatics. I rolled my eyes.

“Wrong.” I chirped, looking down at the beautiful boy under me. I nearly forgot to speak, I was so transfixed on his eyes. “I’m not bullying George.”

George snorted and threw his head back laughing. Fred glared at me and stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. My eyes moved down looking at his lips. Don’t stare at your best friend’s lips Y/N. I shook my head at the thoughts of Fred’s lips and instead looked at George who was smirking at me. He had caught me multiple times ogling at his twin. The first time he confronted me about his question was “Why not me, I’m obviously the better-looking twin!” which earned him a good punch in the arm. I had never admitted to the growing crush I had on Fred to him but then again I never denied it either. That was enough for my private teasing from him. I ignored him and pressed on.

“Now will you tell me what the plan is, you keep almost telling me and I swear to Merlin if you don’t tell me this time…” I trailed off while giving them both a stern glare to which they both snickered at. I raised my hand to flick Fred again, his eyes widened with fear. “Ok fine!” he exclaimed. “George tell her before she bruises me!” He looked pleadingly at his brother who only rolled his eyes before getting up and looking around making sure we were alone. My hand was still raised and pointed at Fred’s forehead but my eyes were trained on George inspecting the common room. Before I could react Fred had lifted my cardigan and successfully shifted himself so his face was now pressed against my shirt while my cardigan covered his head.

“Hey!” I yelled while pulling my cardigan back but to no avail, his grip was on it tight.

“You can’t flick me now Y/N! My forehead is safe!” He yelled into my stomach. I looked up to George who was now sitting in front of us making kissy faces. I rolled my eyes and grabbed a pillow that I promptly chucked at his head but he caught.

Now hugging the pillow against his chest George looked very serious. He lowered his voice when he spoke. “We need you to help us with this prank because you are a Slytherin.” His eyes met mine pleadingly. My hands stopped wrestling Freds for ownership over my cardigan as I looked at George.

“Haven’t I already told you guys I’m not helping you torture my house because then my house would torture me? Do you not remember last year?!” I huffed. I hadn’t forgotten the year before when I let them hang out with me in the Slytherin common room. They had offered to help me study but they had ulterior motives, motives which laid with turning most of the other students in the common room into birds. Once I realized what was happening which wasn’t long after a few screams and a lot of feathers being strewn about, I had grabbed the back of their collars and threw them out. Even after shutting the door in their faces, I could hear them laughing on the other side. I spent the rest of my evening burning their Feathered Figs and transfiguring birds back into students. It didn’t upset me too much until I had about five teary first years coughing up feathers and sobbing. I rushed all the ex-bird people to Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing who took care of them.

Soon enough, Snape had found out, rushed into the hospital wing, grabbed the back of my neck, and pushed me out. Once we were out of earshot he let out on me, he demanded to know the origins of the candies and I took the fall. Saying that I had bought some candies from Honeydukes and Zonkos for friends and got them mixed up. He huffed and gave me a week of detention. It took me two weeks to even look at the twins, they had done everything in their power to try and get my attention on them again but I ignored them. Purposely sitting with Cedric or Luna every day at lunch and dinner.

After a week and a half of me ignoring them, I was sitting in the courtyard with Cedric. It was our Tuesday tradition to spend the afternoon together doing homework or more likely procrastinating together. Ever since my first year, even after I was sorted in Slytherin, Cedric made time to be with me. He didn’t care so much as some other people who I thought I was friends with before, he said he knew I was a kind person and didn’t see that changing. His kindness was something I always appreciated. Something I didn’t always appreciate was his ability to read me. He always seems to know what is bubbling under the surface, and always knew exactly what to say to help. In this instance, it was to hear the twins out. I remember us fighting about it but in the end, he was right. I had been missing their company more than I had liked to admit, and in my attempts to ignore them I had also been ignoring Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

The guilt ate away at my chest and I went to the Black Lake, a place the twins and I would meet to blow off steam. Almost like they had telepathic powers, they arrived nearly five minutes after I did, both panting heavily as though they had sprinted from across the castle. Fred was teary-eyed and George held a guilty look on his face. They hugged me at the same time and told me how much they have been dying without me. I laughed, then cried, which freaked them both out because they hugged me with too much force. I smacked them both on the head.

“Don’t ever use me like that again,” I said sternly. They both nodded looking guiltily at their feet. “Because Merlin I missed you so much.” Their heads snapped up and they smiled, I smiled back. “It’s damn hard to stay mad at you.” I laughed out the words and their smiles grew. “Especially when you are stalking me.”

Fred and George glanced at each other then laughed. I gave them a puzzled look. “We weren’t planning on stalking you.” George grinned.

“Not that intensely at least,” Fred added and George shook his head again. “After 3 days Hermione sat us down and lectured us. She told us about your detention, how you took the fall for us-” “Made us feel like foul gits, she did.” George piked in, crossing his arms. Fred nodded enthusiastically. “She told us if we had just driven away one of her best friends and-” he untucked his arms to use air quotes, “The only other girl in the group.” He rolled his eyes. “She would make us wish we weren’t born. I told her you were more like one of the guys in the group and well, she didn’t like that at all.” His eyes went wide at the end of his sentence. I smacked him on the arm.

“Well I don’t either you git!” I laughed. “At least I know Hermione will always have my back.” I threw my hand on my chest rather dramatically.

“I will too you know,” Fred spoke up. I looked at him with my brows furrowed. Did he really just? “have your back, I will always be there.” He smiled softly at me and my knees felt like they were going to give out. Something about his soft smile just made my heart swell up.

We spent the rest of the evening at the lake. Eventually, I laid my head in Fred’s lap, my feet residing in the lap of George. Talked so much that we missed dinner. I hadn’t noticed how late it had gotten until I saw the darkened windows of the castle indicating that everyone had moved up to their dormitories. I shot straight up, bringing myself then the two boys to their feet before jogging towards the castle. They walked me to the Slytherin common room through a secret passage they had found the year prior. Once we got to the painting I looked at both of them. We all had a sudden hesitance to do anything, but not wanting to leave.

“Well,” I coughed the word out. “Goodnight then.” I smiled at them weakly. George pulled me into one of his famous bear hugs. I laughed into his chest and hugged back. When he finally released me I turned to Fred. My cheeks were burning but it was too dark for him to notice and thank Merlin for that. He quickly wrapped me up as well but his hug felt different. His hands didn’t rest on my back like Georges did, they wrapped around my waist and brought me in tightly. His head was placed in the crook of my neck. With his hands and breath on me, I was feeling dizzy. I stood on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck and shoulders.

“I don’t want you to go, we just got you back.” He murmured into my neck. I squeezed him into me as a response to tell him I felt the same, not trusting my voice to remain steady, before releasing him. When I looked back at him his face resembled a kicked puppy, he looked sad, his brown eyes which usually gleamed with mischief were now glossed with sadness.

“We could always sneak her into our dorms,” George said, raising his brows at me. “I think I’ve done it about a dozen times with Angela, really easy.” Fred and I both stared at George with our jaws on the floor. After realizing what he had said George turned red. “N-Not like that!” He said loudly. Fred and I looked at each other, we both had the same look on our face- disbelief. Soon enough the secret passageway was echoing with laughter. I had to grab Fred’s arm to balance myself, my own laughter causing my legs to feel like jelly and my stomach to cramp up. He was quick to support me by placing his arm around my waist and pulling me into him, my hands rested on his chest but I couldn’t think of it to be flustered. I was still struggling to breathe and stop laughing.

“Really mate, did you have to bribe her?” Fred asked between chuckles. George didn’t respond; he just huffed angrily and leaned against the wall very over our antics.

After grabbing some things I would need from my dorm I spent the night in Fred’s dorm. George told me he simply would not have me because I continued to giggle about the thought of him and Angela together while sneaking into the Gryffindor common room. I didn’t think much about it until George excused himself for bed, not before winking at me and making glances between me and Fred. My face turned red but Fred didn’t notice too busy focusing on finding a sweater to sleep in. He and I sat and talked for a while.

“I can leave so you can change. You probably don’t want to sleep in your uniform.” He laughed while standing. I immediately facepalmed myself for forgetting to bring nightclothes. Fred noticed. “Of course you did.” He laughed seemingly being able to read my mind.

“Shut up! You wouldn’t have thought to grab a new uniform if the roles were reversed and I got that!” I huffed, embarrassed. I stood too and shook off my robe. “My uniform isn’t too bad, I can just sleep in it.” Fred looked at me like I had grown a second head. “What!?”

“You’re going to be uncomfortable!” He exclaimed. I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that bad Fred.” I smiled.

He began to ruffle through his drawer and mutter to himself. Finally, after going through all of his drawers he handed me a pair of sweatpants that looked like they wouldn’t have fit Fred in years. His legs were far too long. Before I could say anything he was taking off his F sweater, as he did his shirt was pulled up and exposed his midriff. He handed me that too and I stared at the clothes instead of him, my cheeks burning. “I’ll be outside the door, let me know when you’re finished.” He stood there for a second longer, hesitating like there was something else he needed to say or do. But then he was out of the room without another word.

I pulled my uniform off, actually excited to be out of it. I pulled the sweatpants on first, they pooled at my ankles and slid down my hips. I tied the strings tighter to fit my frame more comfortably before cuffing the bottom of the pants so I wouldn’t trip on them. Then I slid Fred’s sweater over my head. It smelled just like him which made me smile, the sleeves ended past my fingers, and the bottom of the sweater ended a little past my mid-thigh. I smiled to myself while I could, there was something so comforting about being in his clothes even when they were so oversized.

I let him back into the room and he looked at me for a moment. Having his eyes rack over my body made me suddenly very self-conscious and I hung my head to hide my red cheeks. He quickly walked over to the bed and grabbed the sleeve that hung from my hand, pulling me with him. “You should read to me that muggle book you keep talking about.” He finally spoke.

My cheeks burned red. “You remembered?” He hummed in response while moving his other arm under his head. He turned to look at me. “Did you bring it?”

I scoffed. “You know I take it everywhere with me.” He grinned at me. “That I do, go get it.”

I spent the next long while reading to him. He was quick to ask questions which I had to refrain from answering and spoiling the future chapters. When my speech began to slow he instructed me to move and give him the book. I laid my head on his chest and listened to it rumble as he spoke. He continued to read with a lot of enthusiasm. I don’t remember much but I do remember waking up in his arms the next day.

“Y/N!” I snapped my head up, pushing the events of last year back to the depths of my mind. It didn’t mean anything. I had to remind myself. Fred was a touchy person, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had done that with many people, that being said I never asked. I knew that if my suspicions were true my heart would shatter that I wasn’t for a fact special to him. I didn’t want to ruin my memory of that night. It was something I thought back to quite a bit.

“How many times are you gonna make us apologize for that?” I smiled smugly and rolled my eyes.

“I didn’t ask you to apologize again, just not include me in pranks against my house.” I sighed. Fred had finally released his hold on my cardigan and pulled his head out. His long hair was a mess and some of it had fallen into his forehead. He looked up at me with a smile I couldn’t help but smile back.

“That’s the great thing Y/N, the prank isn’t against your house technically speaking.” He shot me a wink that made me giggle. I brought up a hand and brushed his hair out of his face. “And how is that, technically speaking.” I made sure to draw out technically the same way that Fred did and I looked between the two brothers. They were looking between themselves almost as if they were speaking telepathically.

“It’s on Snape,” George said smugly. “So technically not your house, just the head of the said house.” My eyes shot open and I jumped up knocking Fred off of me in the process. I could hear him whisper something but I was too caught up in the multiple thoughts running through my head.

The boys looked at me expectantly, Fred rubbing the back of his head where it had made a harsh impact with my knee.

“How can I help?” I grinned wildly, this was going to be my favorite prank yet.

Chapter Two

#fred weasley #fred and george #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #george weasley #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fic #weasleys wizard wheezes #harry potter characters #harry potter #fred weasley imagine

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

just the girl

request from nonnie!!! “Hello gorgeous! I love your writing! Could I please get a George one where the reader is younger(like harry) and she is kind of shy but George loves her and flirt with her but she thinks he is just messing with her?”

word count: 4.4k

pairing: george x hufflepuff fem!reader

A/N: okay i strayed a biiiiit and didn’t make her like suuuuper shy but i definitely made her oblivious and i hope that’s okay?? also, i’ve had “just the girl” by the click five stuck in my head whilst writing this so that’s where the title idea/end dialogue come from lol

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am | send me a quick message if you’d like to be added darlings!

The only thing to ever distract George Weasley from his schoolwork has been pranking and mischief; it’s always been that way, ever since he was born, with his twin by his side. But now, he thinks, watching you across the Great Hall after not having seen you due to a very long summer holiday, everything else might just need to be put on the back burner.

How had he never noticed you in this light before? A thought crosses his mind now: he’s been far too preoccupied with creating types of chaotic mischief across the castle. Maybe he needs to rethink his priorities a bit. It’s not that he’s never thought about girls: hell, he thinks about them nearly all the time. But not like this. He’s never been so captivated in his entire life.

Your smile is lighting up nearly the entire Hall; how everyone at every table isn’t staring at you is beyond him. George can hardly help himself; his eyes are glued to you. His friends notice this and someone punches him in the arm, earning a sharp yell and a glare from him.

“Ow,” he says through gritted teeth after coming back to reality. He groans at what’s coming. He then turns to Fred, who’s laughing a bit, and says, “You’re a right git, you know that?”

“Oi, go over there and talk to her, would you?” Fred suggests, making the entire group of rowdy Gryffindors roar with laughter, “or at least quit the staring—you’re making yourself rather obvious, you know.”

George feels his throat tighten as he sinks into his seat; next to him, Ron is giggling quietly into his cup of porridge. “Go with the latter, mate—stop looking at her, would you? Merlin! You’re going to frighten the poor girl.”

He feels his heart begin to pound a bit harder against his ribcage; he hates feeling nervous—probably more than he hates sitting through Potions class. He swallows thickly, turns to his sister and says quietly, “Oi, Gin, you and Luna are friendly with Y/N, right?”

Ginny looks up from her bowl of cereal and nods her head before shooting a cheeky grin at her brother.

“You’ve spent quite some time with her before then, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” Ginny replies, taking a swig of her drink, “but so have you, you git. She hangs out with us all the time. You’ve known one another since your third year.”

George frowns. “Yeah, but.. I don’t know her nearly as well as you. Always sort of gravitates toward you, doesn’t she? She’s sort of.. turned off by my pranks a little bit.”

“Then stop the pranking,” Ginny winks.

George lets out a scoff. “Right. D’you not know me but at all?”

“It’s not that she’s turned off, George,” Ginny tells him and he feels himself relax a bit. She scoops up some more cheerios onto her spoon, “her life just doesn’t revolve around pranking people. She’s sort of shy. But I promise, she gets a rise out of your mischief.”

“She does?”

Ginny rolls her eyes as she entertains the idea that her brother might quite possibly be in love.

“Yeah, she does, so—talk to her then, would you?” Ginny tells her brother, taking a long swig of her drink. “She’s on the Hufflepuff team this year! New Chaser, she is. There, already have something to chat about other than pranking, alright?”

You? Quidditch? Girl of his dreams, you are. That aspect excites him. What he’s afraid of, he thinks of now, is trying to get you to open up to him. Maybe it won’t be as difficult as he thinks, considering you’ve known one another for quite some time now. A smile tugs at the edges of his lips when he watches your head fall back as you laugh—a laugh he can’t hear, but wants too more than anything else.

If there’s one thing George Weasley loves, it’s a challenge.

— -

George is finding it quite difficult to spend any time with you, much to his dismay. Not only are you in a different house, but you’re two years younger which means you’ve got absolutely no classes together. He reckons that Herbology wouldn’t be as boring if you were in class with him. He frowns at the thought.

So when he sees you rounding the bend in the corridor one day after emerging from an afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, he immediately seizes his chance for a chat.

“Oi, Georgie!” Fred calls as George leaves him, Ron, Harry and Neville in his dust, “where’re you off to, then?”

“Sorry boys,” George calls back, winking, “Have got a few things to take care of—meet you later in the common room.”

He leans against the wall and watches you, a dazed sort of grin grows on his face when he notices that smile again. He feels a pang in his heart when he thinks of just how long it’s taken him to really notice it.

You meet his gaze and clutch your books tighter into your chest; when you pass him, he ignores a few other Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws by your side, acting as if you’re the only two in the corridor. “Hey, beautiful.”

You roll your eyes and can’t help but smile. “Hi, George,” you reply sweetly, not stopping to hold a conversation. He’s quick on his feet, though, and follows you down the other end of the hallway. He feels poorly for you when he notices that you’re headed for the dungeons. “Good summer holiday?”

“Pretty good—happy to be back, though. And you?”

You ignore his question and wiggle your eyebrows at him. “Not getting into any trouble already, are we?”

“Not currently, dunno about later.. too early to tell,” he smiles a bit smugly, tugging on your arm and pulling you back, leaving your friends walking toward the dungeons without you. You turn around, now face to face with him, and he’s leaning casually against the wall, his arms folded across his chest.

“Better be careful—I hear Snape’s just dying to give out detentions. In a right foul mood, he is.. and it’s only the first week.”

“Shame you’re heading to Potions, then.”

“Would much rather be out on the pitch, mind you.”

“Oh yeah,” George replies, suddenly remembering what Ginny had told him, “how’s it feel then? Heard you’re one of the new Chasers this year. Heard you’re pretty wicked.”

“Yeah?” you raise your eyebrows and George can’t help but feel his insides constrict at your glistening eyes. “What else have you heard?”

He laughs a bit, running a hand through his messy hair. “That Gryffindor’s got a run for their money now.”

“Glad to hear my skills are being spoken about so highly amongst the houses.”

George is loving this; you’re a lot less shy than he remembers—nothing at all like you were when you two first met. Maybe more has changed over the summer that he doesn’t know about yet. His heart’s thundering at the thought. “Don’t think for a second we’re going to take it easy on you.”

There it is—that laugh he’s been dying to hear. He’s nearly putty in your hands at the sound of it. Luckily, though, George is pretty good at hiding his skittishness and replacing it with a flirtatious grin or banter. He bites down on his lip to keep from grinning like mad when you say, “Do your worst then, George.”

The bell rings suddenly, making you both jump, signaling five minutes until the beginning of the next lesson. You raise your eyebrows and nod toward the dungeons, “Better get going. Don’t want the wrath of Snape upon me.” You grin a bit and walk backwards down the empty corridors and George is nearly losing it at how bloody adorable you are, “See you later?”

“Yeah,” he says, confidence engulfing him, “see you.”

He can’t help but shake his head in admiration when he watches you turn back around, sling your arm behind your back and wiggle a few fingers at him in a wave as you vanish down the staircase.

— -

“Hey—what the bloody hell was that all about this afternoon? Thought you two were supposed to cause some type of diversion on the fifth floor corridors after lunch? You were nowhere to be seen!”

Ron’s face turns sour as his elder twin brothers just laugh at this. To him, Fred replies, “Think of our mischief as being on.. a semi-hiatus. Few days, tops.”

“Merlin,” Ginny mutters, looking down at her shoes, “what did you two do already?”

“We didn’t do anything,” Fred tells his sister. He leans back into the couch and relaxes. “Georgie here has some other things he needs to take care of first.”

Harry and Ron make obnoxious sounding kissing noises; Ginny, on the other hand, just rolls her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re actually going after her.”

George raises his hands in confusion. “You’re the one who told me to go and talk to her more.”

“I didn’t think you were actually serious!”

“Ah well—should pay more attention to your older brother, then, shouldn’t you?” George asks, looking rather smug. He takes a long swig of his tea before placing his feet up on the table in front of him. “Besides, she’s a lot less shy than you seem to remember, Gin.”

Ginny rolls her eyes again, mutters something that slightly resembles a whatever, you git, and turns back to the book she’s clutching very tightly in her hands.

“So,” Ron begins again, turning his attention toward the twins, “Few days, you say?”

“Yes,” the twins chorus together. Fred continues, “Really, though, we’re trying to steer clear of Snape for the time being—bloke seems to show up wherever we go, he’s in a right awful mood and I, for one, don’t feel like starting out the new year with a weekend full of detentions under my belt.”

Under her breath, Ginny mutters, “because that’s so different than every other year?” George playfully chucks a throw pillow at her, and is delighted to see her finally chuckle a bit.

“What’s the plan then, George?” Harry asks, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. “I reckon you’re going to take it easy on her now that she’s our opponent, yeah?”

The boys erupt in laughter, prompting Ginny to move to the other side of the common room to immerse herself in conversation with Hermione, Parvati, and Katie. To the group, George just replies, “Haven’t got a plan, really. Just going to try and wing it.”

— -

Harry lets out a huff, looking positively dreadful. He’s crouched down behind the twins at the entrance to the changing rooms and he says to the two of them, “This has got to be illegal, hasn’t it?”

“Nah—not illegal if we don’t get caught,” George winks, not taking his eyes off of the pitch.

“Relax, mate, it’s fine,” Fred says in a hushed whisper, “that’s why we’ve got the Invisibility Cloak. Merlin, Harry, it’s like you’ve never snuck out before.”

The twins laugh and Harry relaxes; sneaking out is nothing new to him.

They should be in the Great Hall, working on their assignments due for their lessons, but George had insisted on coming to spy on the competition. Fred nearly yelped at the idea; Harry needed some persuading. But honestly, George doesn’t care at all about the competition. He only cares about you.

He’s enamored at your Chasing skills—you’re a lot faster than he originally thought, getting the quaffle through the hoops each and every time. He’s feeling a bit nervous at how Gryffindor is going to bear with you and the other new Chaser and new Beater. It’s probably the best team Hufflepuff’s had in years.

“Eh, new Beater isn’t that good,” he hears Fred saying to him and Harry, but he’s not paying a lick of attention, “and they’ve still got the same Seeker as last year, and you know his weaknesses, Harry, so I reckon we should be alright.”

Everyone lands on the pitch with ease and heads right toward the changing rooms. George can’t help but notice the way the yellow color of your robes makes your eyes sparkle even more. Fred then says, “Ready to go then? Have got a massive Charms essay to finish up.”

But George ignores this; instead, he lifts the cloak from over him and is again visible to anyone in the surrounding area. He laughs at whispered yelps from both Fred and Harry, and he swears he hears a, If we’re caught I’m going to murder you, mate!

He frowns at this but continues to ignore it; adrenaline is coursing through his body like a rapid fire. He walks toward the group with his hands in his pockets, looking as if he’s just been out for a casual stroll, when once again, you meet his gaze.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“Seeing you two times in one week?” you ask, placing a hand on your hip. “Aren’t I a lucky one.”

George smirks at you and wants nothing more than to sneak you into the Gryffindor common room later tonight. This scheme, he thinks, would definitely, probably, most certainly earn him detentions for weeks, if not months. “Well I may have heard you were out here, came to see you.”

“Is that so?”

“I just can’t help myself.”

“Not spying on us, are you, Georgie?”

“Spying? Never,” he replies gleefully. Making you laugh is just about his favorite thing. He nods toward the pitch, glad to see that the rest of the team has made it inside the changing rooms, leaving you two alone, “how’d practice go?”

“You Gryffindors better prepare—best lineup we’ve had in years. I daresay we might actually be able to get our hands on the cup.”

George laughs at this, not at all caring about the fact that if Fred had heard you say this, he’d nearly be up in arms at the thought of Gryffindor losing. George, however, doesn’t mind that much. Not if it means he’d get you in return. “I’d like to see you try.”

You release your hair from it’s ponytail and George cannot shake the feeling that he’s got something very sharp lodged in his throat. He clears it once, twice, three times before finally feeling it subside. You grin, elbow him playfully and say, “Don’t worry. I will.”

— -

Hogsmeade is absolutely swarmed with students, it being the first trip of the school year, and all. In fact, it’s so crowded, that George can hardly see through the sea of people. He follows his brothers into Honeydukes to pick up some much needed candy items before heading back to Hogwarts for the evening feast.

“I reckon you can never have too many chocolate wands,” Ron says brightly, pulling as many as he can off of the shelves. Quite a sweet tooth he has. Then he notices some caramel cobwebs and grabs a fistful of those, too.

“Ronald, leave room for dinner, would you?” Hermione teases him as he pays for his goodies; she then steals a wand out of his hand and bites into it, smiling giddily. Ron turns a bright shade of pink.

“Zonko’s next?” Fred asks the crowd, examining the sugar quill he’s just purchased. He then gingerly sticks it into his bag and heads toward the exit. “C’mon—we’ve got to get back soon and I’ve a lot I need to purchase still.”

And so everyone follows Fred from Honeydukes and back out onto the very crowded street. George is now losing all hope of spotting you, and Ginny’s been no help—when asked if you’d be here today, Ginny merely shrugged her shoulders, noting that she hadn’t been able to talk with you much recently due to your very different schedules as well as being in different houses. George huffs a bit and then freezes: he notices you, standing with two of your friends, in a line outside of Madam Puddifoot’s.

Harry notices this and slings an arm around George’s shoulders, “Mate, you’ve got to be kidding.”

“No self respecting bloke will step foot into Madam Puddifoot’s,” Ron chimes in, mouth full of chocolate. “I mean, it’s meant for couples who need to spend less time snogging and more time coming up for air.”

George agrees; he slams his hands in his pockets and keeps his eyes on you. Just the sight of the tea shop alone is making him cringe; of course he wants to be with you. But George Weasley isn’t much of a corny type of bloke, and he reckons you’re not that type of girl, either.

“Yeah, but she’s not with anyone, is she? A guy, I mean,” George tells them, shrugging them off and handing Fred his purchases. “Hang onto that for me, will you? Thanks. See you all back at the castle.”

As George nearly skips across the cobblestone, Fred shakes his head and throws his hands up in surrender. “Oh, yeah, sure thing—I’d be more than happy to carry all this junk for you, mate.”

George just ignores this; he can feel his heart begin to flutter when he watches you run your fingers over the spine of a notebook you’re holding—a new item from Scrivenshaft’s, he’s sure of it. He grins to himself before quietly stepping behind you, and gently taps you on the shoulder. “Didn’t take you for a Madam Puddifoot’s type.”

You whirl around, obviously a bit frightened by his sudden appearance. You bring a hand swiftly to your heart and say through some nervous laughter, “Blimey! You gave me a fright.” The two of you begin to laugh and George notices your two friends peering at you both before erupting into whispers. You turn back to him and shake your head as if to say, Ignore them, and continue on, “I reckon this is about the cheesiest place in all of Hogsmeade! But I have to admit—I’m a sucker for her tea.”

“So not here on a date, are you?”

“A date? Merlin, no! The reason I even step foot in this place, besides the tea, is to seemingly laugh at all of the couples in here—have you ever taken a peek around, George? Some of them are so clueless it’s actually painful.”

He’s nearly melting at your banter, and is surprisingly uplifted to hear that you’re not the type of girl who is looking to be all sickeningly sweet on a date in what’s been deemed as the most romantic spots for young couples. He reckons you’d much rather be throwing quaffles through hoops instead.

Suddenly, the door opens and a jingle signals the entrance of the next group—you, George, and your two friends. He raises his eyebrows and says, “Well let’s take a peek then, shall we?”

And it’s exactly as you’ve described, and exactly what he expects: couples, hardly drinking their tea, but instead peering lovingly into one another’s eyes as if in some type of hypnotized trance, or with their lips locked together without coming up for any air. You turn back to George, wiggle your eyebrows at him and begin to laugh, keeping your voice low. “What’d I tell you?”

“Merlin,” he replies breathlessly, spotting Seamus Finnegan tucked away in a corner with a Ravenclaw. “It’s worse than I thought.”

“Yeah, but—” you stop, handing him a cup of steaming hot liquid, “try the tea! It’s worth it alone to deal with all these people in love.” Your face turns sour at your own words, and you and George find yourself falling into laughter yet again. George swears he hears whispering from your two friends a few feet away.

“You’re right, it’s delicious,” he replies, not breaking your gaze, “and yeah, it’s… a bit much,” you giggle sweetly and turn to look at two young Slytherins attached at the hip, “but I reckon if you’re with the right person, it’s not so bad.”

A soft smile spreads itself across your face, and George can feel his insides go warm and gooey. “Oh yeah? Going soft on me?”

He sips his tea again lightly, poking you gently in the ribs. “With you? I just might be.”

— -

When George pops through the portrait hole that evening, a very smug grin plastered onto his face, it only takes the lot about five and a half seconds before bombarding him with questions and a bit of teasing.

“Oh lookout, there he is now—been snogging her in Puddifoot’s this whole time, have you?” Fred frowns and chucks a throw pillow at him, but George is quick and catches it.

“Nah, he couldn’t be, mate,” Ron tells Fred from the ground as he leans against the couch, “you’ve got to properly ask a girl out before getting to that level, and we know Georgie hasn’t gotten there yet, has he?” Raucous laughter echoes throughout the common room from him, Fred, and Harry.

“Leave George alone,” Hermione and Ginny scold together. Then Hermione continues, “Just because you three don’t know how to properly treat a woman—”

George stands up a little straighter. “Ah—cheers, Hermione.”

“So you’ve done it, then?”

“Reckon my dating life isn’t really any of your business, Ron,” George replies cheekily. He then quickly heads up to the boys dormitory, changes into comfortable clothes, and comes back down, only to climb back out through the portrait hole and into the corridors. “Hey, where’re you off too?” Ginny calls.

George ignores this; he jumps back out, not paying a lick of attention to the singing of the Fat Lady, and is delighted to see that you’re still standing there, leaning against the wall, picking at the sleeves of your sweater. You look up and grin; he’s beginning to feel those nerves again. “Ready?” you ask.

The two of you head straight for the pitch, now surely very dark—it’s almost after hours, but he doesn’t mind, and he’s happy that you don’t either. Whilst spending most of the afternoon making a mockery out of those couples in Puddifoot’s, you and George had fallen into an animated conversation revolving Quidditch, which seems to be a lot about what you two discuss these days.

You’re both hovering above the ground; the pitch is nearly completely black. George can only see you in the moonlight shining down on you both from the night sky. You say to him, blocking the goal posts, “Do your worst, Weasley.”

He’s not used to acting as Chaser, and you, a Keeper. But despite his ruddy awful tries at launching the quaffle through the goal posts, and your creative, albeit a bit dangerous, attempts at blocking these potential goals, you two still end up falling into a fit of hysterics and nearly falling off of your brooms. George could stay here for hours, into the dead of night, not a care in the world..

He feels his heart begin to race a bit and frowns at the sight of a few lights turning off within the castle. It’s evident to you both, now, that it’s far past curfew, and if Snape catches you both out here, you’re done for. Without saying anything, the both of you land on the grass and slowly make your way back toward the castle. “I reckon Keeper is definitely not on my list of Quidditch skills,” you tell him, laughing lightly.

He shrugs and grins at you, “You’re better than you think you are.”

“I should play with you more often—full of compliments, you are.”

“Can you blame me? I just—you’re kind of brilliant—”

“Oooh,” you say a bit teasingly, jabbing him in the ribs, “you about to confess your love for me, or something?”

He just smiles.

A bit taken aback, you ask skittishly, “A-are you?”

His grin deepens at your flustered words. “Well, yeah, I am.” he says plainly, as if it’s obvious.

Your eyes dart back and forth between him and the castle. It’s obvious to him that you’re feeling a bit nervous now. “Are you serious?”

George laughs haughtily, placing his broom down on the ground as he inches closer to you. “Haven’t I been making myself obvious?”

“I—I mean,” you stammer, tripping over your words as if the sight of him is making you tongue tied. There she is, he thinks. Shy, sweet girl you’ve always been. “You’ve.. you’ve always been flirty! I kind of just thought it was a joke?”

He pretends to fall back dramatically, and is delighted to hear you laugh a bit. “That hurts, Y/N, I was kind of hoping you’d be able to tell that I’m mad for you.”

A grin tugs at your lips, and George feels his nerves begin to subside at the dazed look on your face. “Soooo, you weren’t joking?”

“I’m always joking, love,” he says playfully, now just centimeters from you, and he snakes an arm around your waist, “just not about this.”

You swallow thickly, and now he’s leaning in. His voice is nearly a whisper.

“If you want me to stop—”

“Don’t stop,” you tell him breathlessly.

When his lips touch yours, he feels a chill declare war on his bones; it’s as if all of the adrenaline in the world is surging through his body at this exact moment. He’s quite sure he’s short-circuited, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as your fingers creep gently across his shoulder blades and into his hair. It’s slow and tender and soft, the way first kisses should be, the way he’s been imagining it.

Both of you pull away gently, and he hovers for a moment and smiles before pulling away fully. Your arms are still draped over his shoulders and his hands tighten around your hips; he’s definitely not going to sleep tonight, not after this, and he fully plans on going to class in the morning with some kind of hangover. “It’s crazy how you went from being just some girl—”

You grin lazily and he feels as though he’s about to spontaneously combust.

“Now you’re just the girl,”

You roll your eyes at this. “Ugh, has Madam Puddifoot’s made you corny, now?”

“Nah, it’s you,” he replies, pressing his forehead to yours, “you just bring out this side of me.”

You shoot a smug smile his way. “Hmm,” you begin, pausing to consider the conversation and think for a moment. You blink a few times, and he’s a right mess at the feeling of your eyelashes brushing his cheekbones, “can’t believe the effect I have on you. Can’t bloody wait for our match then, huh? Try not to get so flustered, Georgie.”

He grins against your lips and before kissing you fully again, he says, “Can’t make any promises, love.”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, thank you for reading and requesting loves x

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thoseofgreatambition · 4 years

Text

satin trim

duet masterlist

description: your love with george is quite dramatic. not in the ways of your romance books where true loves are separated by a villain. but in the little teenage ways where you’re certain no one understands your feelings, or how you’re waiting for the other to see how beautiful you are.

a/n: this is the ???? 3rd installment of my collab with @ickle-ronniekins! Erica is the most wonderful writer on this platform tbh and i’m blessed to be able to write with her. we’ve been talking about these overly dramatic babes so much these past few days, and i’ve been enjoying the hell out of it. i hope you do too!

wordcount: 3K

warnings: nada

You fell onto your four poster bed in the most dramatic fashion your seventeen year old self could manage. The hand embroidered pillow case your grandmother had sent you, currently had your entire face smushed into it as you kicked your legs while you laid on your tummy. “I don’t have a date for the Yule Ball! I’ll be alone forever!”

Sarah, your dorm mate gave you a chuckle, “Ask out Weasley.”

Puzzled, your ribbon now halfway out of your hair you looked at her. “Which one? There’s four.”

“George!”

“No!” sitting up abruptly, the thin blue ribbon end covered your left eye. “Then he’ll know I like him!”

“That’s the point, Y/N!”

“He can’t though! Clearly he doesn’t--”

“How do you know he doesn’t?” Sarah demanded you, “How do you know?”

There was a long pause before you spoke. “He can’t like me. George hasn’t said that he likes me.”

Oddly, you found yourself being stared at as if you were a child again. People always seemed to look at you like you’d said something silly.

“But you like him.”

“I don’t like him! It’s deeper than that!” you watched her eyes roll with increasing amounts of distress. “I love him!”

“Fine, whatever, you’re in love. But you haven’t told him yet.”

“No. Of course not.”

“Because you don’t want him to know?”

You nodded, “I don’t want him to know.”

“So, don’t you think he’s doing the same thing? That maybe he’s too shy?”

For a few moments you stared at her before speaking again. “No, that can’t be it. He doesn’t like me.” you fell back onto the bed with a dramatic flourish and kicked your legs again. “My secret admirer hasn’t come forward either! This isn’t anything like those muggle romance books my grandmother sent me!”

Sarah got off her bed and left the dorm room, “Alright, I tried talking some sense into you. See you later, Y/N.”

With another sigh, you looked towards your neat rows of ribbons on your dresser. Carefully you took out your light blue one from your hair and put it with the others. You’d picked it because you’d been so down this morning that your own love story hadn’t unfolded yet. Gently you fixed your hair with a dark blue ribbon.

You felt much sadder, and it seemed that your love was quite misunderstood.

_____________________

Fred allowed his head to fall rather hard onto the wooden table of the Great Hall the next morning, already exasperated with his brother George. “Just ask her mate.”

“It’s too late. She’ll say no now. She’s probably thinking about her secret admirer--”

“Which is you George--” Fred’s statement was rewarded with a swift prod into the ribs by his twin. “She’s mad about you, idiot! Bet that’s why she’s been moping around.”

That Saturday morning you’d walked down with your fluffiest sweater and no ribbon in your hair. You took off your book bag and sat across from Fred and George, gently you plucked a slice of toast and began to chew quietly. When Fred kept his eyes leveled on you, you frowned a bit and then swallowed your food. “What is it?”

“Why’re you sitting over here?”

You pouted, “My dorm mates are calling me dramatic! Can you imagine?”

George looked fixated on your hair, quite flushed and silent for once. You still couldn’t understand why people had laughed when you called him the ‘shy one’. Especially when it was true.

Fred looked between the both of you, and let out a long sigh. “No darling, can’t imagine at all.”

“Why no bow, Y/N?”

George had never seen you without a bow before. Without ribbons in your hair. It made his ears heat up a bit, it felt almost as intimate as if you’d come into the hall without a shirt on. He watched you pull an irritated face as you brushed the hair out of your face.

You looked at him with a deep frown, “None of the colors felt right. I’m in too foul of a mood.”

“And what’s got you in that foul mood?” The twins spoke at the same time, though while George’s tone conveyed concern, Fred’s seemed much more indulgent.

Your face began to heat up, and pointedly you avoided eye contact with George. “I thought I’d be asked to the Yule Ball, but I haven’t.”

It was hard for Fred to keep from laughing at the entire situation, or to keep from smacking both you and George upside the head. “Yeah, Georgie is having the same problem. “

Fred thought, that if you had any sense or your head wasn’t so far in the clouds that you would take that opportunity to ask George to go with you, even as friends, but it seemed that both you and George were too lost in love to use logic at the moment. “Oh George it’s awful isn’t it? I’m surprised. I thought that you’d have loads of people asking you to go.”

You watched the poor boy grow more flushed, and felt a pang of sympathy. You could be quite shy too and it seemed that he still hadn’t outgrown it since you’d become friends three years before. His long fingers reached to scratch the back of his neck before he spoke. “I’ve had a couple ask me out, but it wasn’t who I was hoping for so I said no.”

Your delicate brow knitted itself together, wondering who George had hoped for when the sound of owls flying filled the Great Hall. One swooped low over you and dropped a rather large parcel into your hands. The pout on your face finally evaporated away as you read the card. “It’s my dress!” your voice was loud and joyful, the typical shyness gone far away. “Grandmother said that she’d just finished it for me!”

Fred, knowing that you weren’t about to notice all the food around you that could stain your dress began to move plates and saucers away from you. A glance to George showed his brother had the same thought, both of them trying to hold back any chuckles. Of course the idea of a dress distracted you.

Quickly your nimble fingers made work of the bow and wrapping on the parcel before lifting off the top. There was a delighted gasp at the white lace and satin trim that seemed to explode from the confines of the box. “It’s so pretty!” pulling the dress further out revealed more volume in the skirt and delicate lacework around the sleeves and neckline. “Oh, isn’t it wonderful?”

“Feeling better, Y/N?” Fred asked, clearly amused at not only your reaction, but at George’s red face.

“Of course!” you didn’t notice the indulgent tone, or George’s open mouthed reaction. Instead you smiled at George brightly. Surely this would be how it went. He’d see how pretty you were going to look, ask you to dance and confess his love for you! It would be just like a love story. You held it up to you, “Isn’t it pretty, George?”

He nodded slowly, with a smile on his face you saw often but could never decipher. “You look beautiful.” His smile grew as you let out a delighted noise and gathered up your parcel just to scamper towards your dorm room to properly try on your dress.

So lost in his little world, George hadn’t noticed the curious glances from Ron. “What was all of that about? You’re smiling like a git.”

Any trace of a timid nature had gone away once you had left, leaving George with an annoyed expression for his brother. “Careful who you’re calling a git, Ron.”

Unfortunately for George, Fred piped up from beside him, giving his youngest brother a grin. “You’ll understand one day Ickle Ronniekins. Once you’re in love.”

Ginny spoke loudly, from her seat a little ways away, “He’s moony over Y/N, Ron. It’s why he always looks like a git.”

“Hey!” George attempted to launch a piece of toast at his sister, though she waved it off with her wand. “Aren’t you three supposed to be on my side?”

All three responded at the same time. “Nope.”

________________

You could not stop giggling as George twirled you around in the center of the dance floor. The satin trim of your dress flared up around you, pattering George around his knees. It was like always, you were in your own little bubble with him. Oblivious to the world you just focused how his fingertips atop your own made your tummy feel full of sparks and butterflies. “I think you like my dress, Georgie!”

“If you don’t stop calling me that Y/N, it’s going to catch on.”

“I think it’s a lovely nickname.”

“My mum would agree.” George grinned at your delighted giggle and gently twirled you closer to him. Off towards the corner of the Great Hall. Often George wondered where he would be if he hadn’t fallen in love with you those years ago, and often the answer that came to him was the center of attention.

This quiet moment though was lovely. George loved his pranks and his mischief just the same. He still pouted for days when you would tell him he’d gone too far on something. He still spent nights planning out the next big idea with Fred. George Weasley never felt himself lacking from the attention he desired. Except when it came to you. It made him feel greedy, how much he wanted to consume your time.

Perhaps it was the middle child in him. The younger twin. The one often mistaken for another. He wanted something of his own. He wanted you.

You who knew who he was from the start, even if it was because you were so sure it was because he was shy.

He wasn’t. Though you hadn’t seemed to notice it was you who set him off kilter. Twirling and rocking back and forth like a top that had been spun all wrong.

It was you. You’d stolen his heart and run off with it. So unaware that you’d become a thief that George doubted you could ever be convicted of it.

The white ribbon that ran through the plait in your hair.

How had you not figured out he was your admirer yet? George had seen your marks, they were well enough for you to be able to figure it out.

He pulled you closer, content in this quieter corner. It was little moments like these, where your eyes sparkled, when you’d spent the entire night by his side, that George wondered if it was possible you loved him back. It was a tempting thought, especially as you eagerly walked with him through the makeshift waltz he was leading.

You loving him. Marrying young. Living in a little cottage. Running the joke shop, and coming home after work to start dinner before you arrived back. Little children. A smattering of flowers everywhere he turned.

Such a tempting thing. So terrible that he was certain it was impossible.

You’d confided the year before that you were in love with someone else as he’d helped you look for your secret admirer. How you’d hoped that it would be the person you loved.

He’d cried a bit after that one. That one hurt quite a lot.

George felt himself shocked out of his thoughts at the featherlight touch of your fingers to his cheek. “What’s the matter, George?”

There was sweat at your brow bone, you’d danced with George so long through the night that even the comfort charm in your shoes was about to wear off. Your heart beat so fast in your chest that it hurt. Surely this would be it then. He would finally notice you. Fall in love. A beautiful moment with lots of kisses and giggles.

Surely, this was that moment.

The familiar voice of your headmaster spoke over what was left of the crowd. “Alas, our festivities must end here. The sun will be rising in just a few more hours. You’ll all need your sleep, as will I. It takes me much more beauty sleep than it used to I’m afraid. Now off to bed, everyone.”

A cacophony of groans from students came around and you found yourself groaning with them. No! No. You hadn’t had your moment yet. The little dream you’d imagined hadn’t come true yet. Damn the sun! Damn sleep! Your love story was supposed to start here.

George seemed to notice your pouting and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Don’t fret Y/N. I’m sure you’ll have another chance to dress like a princess again soon.”

Absentmindedly you nodded, noticing the stern stare Professor Sprout was sending your way. You’d gotten in a fair bit of trouble a few days prior, being out and about with the twins to help with a prank.

A glance around showed that you were the last Hufflepuff on the floor.

Quickly, without thinking you pressed a kiss to George’s cheek. A poorly aimed one at that, closer to his lips than to his cheek bone.

You felt your nerves explode like fireworks, your brain thrust itself into overdrive as it attempted to figure out what in the ever loving hell you’d just done. George looked at you with wide eyes, bright red-- the poor boy. Why had you done that? You knew he was shy!

Your throat constricted even more when you heard a loud sigh from behind you.

“Finally!” Fred said, louder than you would have wanted. “I was waiting--”

The elder of the twins was caught off guard by you putting a kiss to his cheek as well. A much more well aimed one this time.

“I know! Waiting to go to bed. Sorry boys! Good night-- have pleasant dreams. No causing trouble on your way out.” You fell into a nervous fit of laughter before swiftly exiting the hall, holding the hem of your dress in your hands so you could escape quickly before you burst into tears.

Silly! Silly girl! So silly you’d ruined everything.

George who’d found himself silent for so long finally found his voice. He frowned at his twin, who always had so much to say about his relationship with you. “So what do you say about that then?”

Fred shrugged. “Dunno.”

_____________________

The sun had just risen, but neither brother was asleep. George stared up at the common room ceiling with dry eyes as his twin was half asleep in the corner.

“She looked so pretty.” George’s voice was soft and hoarse, as he tried his best to stay awake.

“Uh-huh.”

“She got kinda pink when we danced.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Put her head on my shoulder.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Laughed at all my jokes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Kissed my cheek.”

“Uh-huh.”

George turned to glare at his twin, “Kissed yours too.”

Fred, who felt rather fed up about all of this gave his brother a smirk, “Clearly it’s me who she likes then.” There was a loud yell, when Fred received a very firm and very old pillow square to the nose. “You’re thinking too much about it George! She probably got nervous or something silly like that. She damn near ran out of the hall.”

“Because she doesn’t like me!”

With a dramatic groan, Fred rolled out of the chair he’d draped himself across and walked up the stairs to their dormitory. “That’s it. I’m done. Going to bed. Keep pouting if you’d like. Bet she’s doing the same.”

_________________

It seemed that Fred was right. The next day when he saw you, you looked absolutely exhausted. Dark bags under your eyes, halfway dozing off underneath a tree with a romance novel in your lap.

You were nothing, if not consistent.

He eyed the pink ribbon holding the hair out of your face, and pointed a finger towards it. “Feeling in love then?”

With a frown you pulled a bundle of sweets from your book bag. “If you tease me I won’t be sharing with you.”

“Won’t share with the twin you’re in love with?”

It felt like you were going to choke on air for a moment, or that your face would burst into flames. You tried your best to kick him in the knee as he sat down in front of you, but only mustered a small shove. “I said don’t tease me Fred! I haven’t the foggiest of what you’re on about!”

“You kissed me.”

“Kissed George too! That doesn’t make you special.”

Fred put a hand over his heart and pantomimed being in great sorrow. “So mean! And here I thought you wanted to move away together.”

“I said stop teasing me!” your voice came out as a whine as you slammed your book shut. “I got nervous okay? Panicked after giving George a kiss on the cheek, so I kissed yours too so it wouldn’t seem weird.”

“It was kind of weird.” He laughed as you tried to kick him once more. “I knew that was it.”

“Shut up Fred.”

“What happened to being sweet Y/N?” He frowned when he watched your lip wobble, and laid upon the grass. “Are you going to cry every time I tease you about this?”

Your voice wavered, “I’m not crying, dummy.”

With a sigh, Fred spoke. “That’s a yes then. I’ll lay off it. But you can tell him. It’s not a big deal.”

“I won’t tell him.”

Fred groaned loudly before covering his eyes with an arm. “He said you looked pretty, you know.”

Finally you managed to kick him properly in the knee. “Stop fibbing just to tease me!”

“Hopeless! The lot of you! Hopeless and stubborn. Bloody hell.”

Unsure of what he was on about, you peered at him. “Did I hurt you badly?”

“No. Just think you’re being silly about all of this, is all.”

“Everyone seems to call me silly.”

“Can’t imagine why, darling.”

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#george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #my writing #my imagine #fic: duet

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starkidpotty · 4 years

Text

When Will I See You Again? [RBW]

Ron’s favorite summer is the summer he met you.

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none–it’s absolute, pure, unadulterated fluff.

Word Count: ~5.3k

A/N: finally a fic that isnt harry hsfhasdfa i plan to make this multiple parts but let me know if u guys wud like that aaa i hope u enjoy! <3

“Fred, you are a right foul git!” cursed Ron as he chased after the twin.

“Ron’s in love!” Fred bellowed as he held a crumpled photograph in his hand. Before Ron carelessly pounced on Fred, the twin passed the photograph to the other half of his whole, George.

George uncrumpled the photograph to take a good look at it, “In love is Ron!” George recrumpled the photograph into a ball and threw it back at Fred, making Ron the monkey in the middle.

Ron jumped and jumped, unable to catch the crumpled polaroid as his brothers threw it around. Fred made the mistake of passing it to Ginny, who was caught off-guard, allowing Ron to snatch it from her hands.

“Now, look at it! It’s unsalvageable!” Ron exclaimed at the polaroid. There was a fold right across the center, discoloring that part of the photograph.

“Are you not a wizard, little brother?” Said Fred.

Ron was, of course, just not adept or knowledgeable enough to fix the muggle object.

“Does it look like I’d know a spell to fix this? This is the only thing I have to remember her by!” Ron bellowed in anger. Fred and George merely snickered at him.

“You make very funny faces.” George said to him, mimicking the last conversation Ron had with you.

The teasing started the first day the Weasleys decided to take a muggle-led tour of the famed pyramids in Egypt at Arthur’s request (demand, actually). The family tried very hard to fit into the muggle-led tour group, which to their credit, they did quite well. Arthur kept his little quips at bay–with much help from Molly and Bill. Percy droned on about his guesses for Head Boy (guesses, meaning reasons as to why he was most deserving of the role) to anyone family member within earshot. Fred and George were accompanied by Charlie, who was better accustomed to muggles due to his time in Romania. Ginny quietly observed her family. While Ron, who was holding Scabbers in his right hand and a handful of wizard sweets in his left, did not notice his untied shoelaces because he tripped over them and took a muggle girl down in the process. It was a scene out of a muggle romantic comedy–13-year-old Ron swore he fell in love the moment he and your eyes met. Scabbers scattered out of his hand at the moment of impact and as he stood up, he offered her his sticky and crumby left hand. You didn’t seem to mind, as you dusted yourself, and thanked Ron for his help. Of course, Fred and George were the primary witnesses of Ron’s unfortunate incident, as they had temporarily escaped Charlie’s watchful eye.

The second day of the muggle-led tour of the pyramids, he saw you again. He tried to steer clear of Fred and George, but he could only do much in the small space in the pyramids. Luckily, Fred and George were on a mission to seal Percy in a mummy tomb and Charlie merely watched, as he was quite amused at the whole scene. As Fred and George shoved Percy into an unknown Pharaoh’s room. Ron took this chance to talk to you as he spotted you at the front of the tour group. He looked left and right, making sure his family did not notice him and he walked to you.

“Hullo,” Ron started. You didn’t notice him, as you were transfixed on the Egyptian tombs.

Ron cleared his throat in an attempt to catch her attention and he repeated, “Hullo.”

You finally turned to him, “‘Hello,”

Oh merlin, she’s French, Ron thought, as the sound of your accent sounded like harps and the gates of heaven themselves opening. He kept himself grounded as he reminded himself that you were essentially a muggle-girl who could not understand wizard things and should he slip, it’ll be only his mother’s voice he’d have to hear.

“Er–hullo, I want to apologize, for tripping you yesterday in King Tut’s tomb yesterday.”

“Oh! There is no–what is the word–problem, thank you again–er–for, for, helping me up.” You said, fishing for the translations of the French words you knew.

By Merlin’s left tit, Ron swore up and down he was already in love with her. Her hair was shiny and soft, her eyes glittering, and lips so full. It was hard to concentrate, it was almost as though he were in a trance.

“Is it your first time in Egypt?” Ron continued. Fred and George emerged from the tomb of the unknown pharaoh, unsuccessful in their plight to banish Percy. They did not meddle with Ron’s feeble attempt at female interaction, but instead sniggered at the sight of it.

Ron himself was quite taken aback with his behavior, as he was talking to a girl–a member of the opposite sex, someone who was not his mother or his sister or Hermione. You were a pretty girl too, and this all the more heightened his nerves. Ron was exercising so much control over his words so as not to spill the secrets of the wizarding world to a 13-year-old girl that his head was spinning. The polite conversation was riddled with small talk, the normal exchanging of basic information such as names, ages, and where you were from.

Arthur spotted Ron, eyes wide. His son, his very immature & unaccustomed-to-muggles son (relative to himself, of course), was conversing with a muggle, all while his damned broken wand was poking out of his pocket. Arthur rushed to Ron’s side, and Ron hadn’t seemed to notice–too busy ogling you. Arthur put an arm around Ron, effectively startling him.

“Good day! Might I borrow my son for a minute?” He says to you. You nod and watch Ron as he gets whisked away by his father.

Arthur didn’t know whether to scold him or egg him on–it was a muggle he was talking to! Everything he’d want to know about muggles from the perspective of a 13-year-old girl right there. Then Arthur imagined the scolding he’d get from Molly if he chose the former. So, he lectured Ron on the dangers of revealing the secrets of the wizarding world to a muggle, citing an incident he’d had recently at work when a Muggle walked in on he and his fellow co-workers during a raid.

“The obliviate charm, though quite useful, was a nasty thing to inflict onto somebody and I wouldn’t want to do that to her.” Arthur told Ron. Ron didn’t care to listen to his father and began to imagine your face on his father’s to make the lecture more bearable. Arthur kept Ron glued to his hip the rest of the tour for the day until they made it back to Bill’s flat.

The third day was the most eventful yet, as the tour group finally had their last group lunch at an authentic Egyptian muggle restaurant. Ron took this as his last opportunity to interact with his muggle-tour-group crush and indiscreetly took a seat next to you. Unfortunately for Ron, Fred and George decided upon the seats across him and you. Ron tried so hard to talk to you, he really did, but he was worse off than yesterday. He was skidding over his words like a car whose tires popped and the steel was grinding itself across the road. Fred and George didn’t even hide the fact they were making fun of him, making kissy noises and drawing hearts in the air with their fingers. It was a miracle you ignored them, and even more of a miracle you paid attention to Ron. Your mother saw the sight and took out her polaroid camera.

“[Y/N], [Y/N]! Look at me, my love!” Your mom said as she clicked the camera, film printing from the slot. She shook it to make it develop faster. The picture was ghastly–your eyes were half-closed with a forkful of spaghetti in your mouth and Ron’s face was contorted into a cross between a sneeze and anger.

“How about another one, for good measure? Yes?” Your mother proposed. You shyly inched closer to Ron, and you swear you hear him gulp. You smile and Ron partly does the same (he was never really quite good at modulating his expressions, so now instead of a cross between a sneeze and anger, it was now fear pretending to be happy).

Your mother hands you both pictures after they’ve fully developed, and you give Ron the second one.

“I like how silly we look here,” You reasoned to him, beaming. Ron was going to explode.

“Oh yes, me too.” He replied, shaking his polaroid of the two of you to get it to move, forgetting for a moment it came from a muggle camera. You chuckle at him.

“You make very funny faces, it’s, uh, very amusing.” You mused. Ron turned red to his ears.

“You should’ve seen the faces I made when I threw up slugs!” Ron laughed, then his face straightened to a stony expression.

“Slugs?” You asked. At this point Ron was panicking and he sent a side-eye to Fred & George, who were laughing even harder than before.

“Candied slugs,” Ron managed to say quickly

“Candied slugs?” You repeated, “That sounds so, er, awful! Disgusting, yes? Why would you eat such an ‘orrible thing?”

Ron was pink to the ears.

“Well, er, candied slugs….are a delicacy?” Ron could not help but sound confused with the lie he was making up. You furrowed your brows.

“In England?” You ask.

“Only up north?” He asks with a very highlighted question mark.

“Up north?” You couldn’t wrap your head around it, who the hell ate candied slugs in England?

“It’s quite rare, might I add. Only a few mugg–” Ron stopped himself again, “people, I mean make them.”

“Really, uh, candied slugs?”

“Yes. Blimey, the feeling you when they go back up your throat!” Ron laughed, trying to keep his cool. “Well, what do you have in France? I reckon it's much better than slugs.”

You tell him about the wonders of French culture, especially about food. Ron tries very hard to ask the questions, and you answer them. Lunch ends, signalling the end of the tour. All the members of the tour group finish their food, pay their share of the bills–Arthur took his time with muggle Egyptian money as he’d never see any other muggle currency aside from the British pound. When all was said and done, everyone stood up and went their separate ways. You stood, and so did Ron.

Turning to him, you say,“It was, uh, nice to have someone my age ‘ere.” You were compelled to hug him, and you do. Ron was flushed, flustered, redder than his family’s signature red hair. His face looked like hues of red at a paint shop. Ron didn’t hug back due to shock, but you paid it no mind. You left as your mother called you to her, you skipped towards her happy to have made a friend in your time in Egypt. Ron stood there, almost in a petrificus-totalus-like state, staring at you as you walked away from him. Fred and George laughed at Ron incessantly. They made fun of him the whole walk back to Bill’s flat. Ron knew that he’d never see you again, but he resigned to replaying the last conversation you and he had.

Ron’s remaining time in Egypt saw him thinking about you endlessly, it was the most teenageric thing he’d done thus far. The rest of the weeks were spent doing usual Weasley family activities, far away from muggles now, much to Arthur’s dismay. Bill gave them tours of the tombs he’d broken curses at and the satellite Gringotts office. The vacation ended and the Weasleys were well on their way back home with Ron still thinking about you all the way to Burrow.

At the Leaky Cauldron, he told Hermione and Harry what he could about you. Harry was quite supportive of the whole escapade, while Hermione rolled her eyes and told him off as you were probably just being nice. The initial crush faded as the year progressed, but Ron still thought about you from time to time, wondering if you were enjoying home and if he’d ever run into you should he find himself in muggle France. He’d find you being the topic of conversation when he was alone with Harry–to avoid an earful from Hermione–on days where there would be nothing to talk about. He’d run through hypothetical situations and ask Harry how he should act around a muggle to not scare them off.

His last conversation with you would occasionally creep up in his mind before he’d go to bed at Gryffindor tower, smiling at the thought of it.

“Some girls really are something else,” Ron would think before drifting off to sleep, the crumpled polaroid hidden in his sock drawer.

___

Year 3 at Hogwarts came and passed, Ron made it through in one piece, now without a pesky Scabbers by his side as it was revealed to have been Peter Pettigrew. He now had longer hair, more defined features, and grew a few inches taller. Summer was eventful to say the least with his family and his two best friends going to the Quidditch world cup and it being attacked by Death Eaters. He still thought about you from time to time in passing but not as obsessively as in the 3rd year. Yours and his interaction became an anecdote–the time Ron finally talked to a girl who wasn’t family or Hermione and almost slipped the secrets of the wizarding world to. Fred and George would not let him forget.

“...This year, Hogwarts will play host to a legendary event: the Triwizard Tournament. During which time a single student gets to represent his or her school in a series of magical contests. Eternal glory awaits the student who wins the tournament.” Bellowed Dumbledore from his stand at the front of the hall. Ron was too busy working at his chicken pot pie, but picked up keywords from Dumbledore’s speech in between bites–Triwizard tournament, eternal glory. Dumbledore’s speech was interrupted by a frantic Filch running through the aisle of the Great Hall, clutching Mrs. Norris in his hands. He whispered a few words to Dumbledore, and Dumbledore continued. Ron had moved on from his chicken pot pie to the mashed potatoes drowning in the signature Hogwarts gravy.

“...For now, please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and their headmistress Madame Maxime!” At once, the doors of the Great Hall burst open, giving sight to the students of Beauxbatons.

Ron’s head was still down as he was basically breathing in the mashed potatoes, even though he knew that there would be plenty of mashed potatoes to go around. Seamus, sat to his left, accidentally nudged him thinking he was Dean, causing Ron to look up. Ron’s eyes immediately darted to the Beauxbatons girls who made quite an entrance with butterflies erupting from their sides. Ron was ogling them, now ignoring the mashed potatoes in front of him, his chin resting on his hand. He stared at them all, darting from girl to girl, focusing on them a few seconds each. His eyes moved down the line of girls, until he reached the last student–you.

Ron froze, not out of fear, but out of utter shock. It was you, in the flesh–the muggle girl he had tripped in King Tut’s tomb a year prior to now. Of course now, he realized you were not a muggle, but a wizard like him. You were still gracefully dancing around as rehearsed, your arms extending and flexing forward like a ballerina. Ron was still staring at you.

Hermione snapped her fingers at his face, “Excuse me! Women aren’t objects!”

“It’s her.” Ron simply stated. Hermione looked at Harry from across the table in confusion.

“Who?” Harry asked.

“D’you remember the muggle girl I kept talking about last year? She isn’t a muggle, she’s literally right there, in the flesh, prancing around, butterflies shooting out of her sides! Blimey, she’s a witch!” Ron exclaimed.

His two friends turned their heads to the front of the Great Hall, where you were bowing down. You and your fellow classmates separated among the four tables in the Great Hall, with you to the Gryffindor table. Ron was watching you the whole time until you sat at the table, only a few students away from him.

Harry was in disbelief, unwilling to believe Ron, “Merlin, Ron, are you sure?”

Fred and George noticed Ron’s awestruck face and shifted around a few fellow Gryffindors to get to their little brother.

“Georgie, it seems as though Ron has his eye on a certain French lady,” Fred starts. The twins follow Ron’s line of sight, landing on you.

“Blimey, Freddie, she looks familiar does she not?” George notices.

Fred squints, “Good god, isn’t that girl you couldn’t,”

George continues, “Wouldn’t”

Fred says, “Stop talking about?”

George connects, “Every hour,”

“Of every day, last summer to now?” finishes Fred, finally. Fred and George turn to each other in amazement, wondering how they’ll be spending the next year torturing Ron.

“Why don’t you go up to her and offer her some candied slugs then, little brother? It’s a delicacy in Northern England! Up north, yes!” George says mimicking 13-year-old Ron’s voice.

“Shove off, George,” Ron mutters as he brings his attention back down to his mashed potatoes, trying to calm himself down. He was picking at the plate with his spoon, tossing around the meal carelessly.

You were enjoying a classic Hogwarts meal of baked chicken and potatoes, while a first-year sat beside you making chit-chat. The student knew just as much as you did about Hogwarts, but you hung onto every word. A girl in front of you at you and back down at her plate. You caught her eye and you both smiled.

“‘Ello,” You say to her. She seemed to have gone as red as her hair.

“Hello,” She replied to you shyly.

“My name is [Y/N],” You say smiling at her.

The girl paused and smiled back, “I’m Ginny.”

A pause ensues.

“Sorry for, er, staring, you just seem so familiar,” Ginny says to you.

“Oh? Sorry, I do not remember you,” You say remorsefully. “It is my first time here at Hogwarts, I’ve never met anyone from here.” “It’s in the face is all,” Ginny smiles at you, before returning to her food. The Durmsrang fellows finished their introduction into the Great Hall, breathing fire and finding their places at different Hogwarts tables. A bulky Durmstrang boy finds a spot next to you, and you both exchange niceties and finish your meals.

Ron finally clears his plate of the mashed potatoes. Fred and George were recounting the events in Egypt to Lee, who was now laughing at Ron as well. Hermione finished her meal and got up, beckoning Ron to go with them, as they had classes the next day. Harry, however, was looking at Ron and back at you, shooting a look at him–like he was egging him on. Ron instead decides to get up to go back to the common rooms, and Harry, a little disappointed, follows.

The hall of students seem to finish their meals the same time as you, as one by one they leave their seats. Your fellow Beauxbaton classmates leave their seats as well, as Madame Maxime gave full permission to explore the grounds and fraternize with other Hogwarts students, so as long as they return to her by a certain period. Ginny gets up in front of you to join her other friends, and you contemplate on your next move. You get up from your table and saunter towards her.

“Uh, Ginny, yes?” You ask her, as she spins around to meet you.

“Yes, [Y/N]?” she responds neutrally.

“I would just like to say–ask, I think is a better word–if we could be friends? I know not much about Hogwarts or anything, really,” You question, “You seem very nice,”

Ginny is taken aback, but gladly obliges. She introduces you to her group of friends, and you try to keep their names in mind.

“Bloody hell,” Ron exclaims.

“What now, Ronald?” Hermione complains.

“I forgot my bloody wand in the Hall, d’you mind?” He asks her. Without waiting for a response, he runs back to the hall and spots you, Ginny, and her friends stopped to the side while groups of students pour out the hall. He freezes in place foo two reasons: (1) He is absolutely mesmerized by your face, (2) you’re talking to his little sister. He takes a few steps to where he was sat a few minutes ago and grabs his wand. He could do two things right about now–leave or make up some pathetic excuse to talk to Ginny, and by extension talk to you.

He chose the latter.

He was rehearsing all kinds of stupid excuses to talk to Ginny and veer the conversation to you.

“Ginny! Mom sent you a howler, telling you off for being annoying, I mean I could tell you that myself.”

“Ginny! Hermione says your hair looked greasy today, you should probably start a fight.”

“Ginny! Remember when you poured your heart to a diary and almost got the life sucked out of by You-Know-Who in the flesh?”

He was distracted and by the time he reaches you and Ginny and her friends, he’s stone-faced. His blood goes cold and a sweat starts to trickle on the nape of his neck.

“Hello, hello, uh,” He stammers. Ginny looks at him, in turn making you look at him. He sees you now, up close. You’ve grown a lot since that summer in Egypt. Your lips fuller, your hair longer, and you’ve grown into your features. You were sporting a paler look than you had last seen him, but he still thought you were glowing.

“Slugs–” He starts out. Ron didn’t know why he began with slugs. Ginny gives him a bizarre look and your eyes widen. It’s as though your brain was flipping through pages of memories and it finally landed on the page it was looking for–Egypt, 1993.

“It’s you!” You exclaimed. Ginny was now giving you a bizarre look. “You were the boy who ate slugs, correct?” Ron was so nervous, and he felt all his blood pooling in his face.

“What did you say then, er,– candied, yes?” Ron was silent through this, he was unaware of what to say.

Ginny’s eyes light up, as she finally put two and two together, “You’re the french muggle girl Ron went on about!”

“He went on about me?” You questioned. Ginny’s friend’s had sensed this was a conversation amongst the three of you, and left, telling her they’d meet her in the common room and left.

Ginny’s arms were now crossed against her chest, looking between you and Ron. You took off the signature Beauxbaton hat and fixed your hair, now conscious of the way you looked. Ron was too nervous to fix himself. Half his button-up was untucked and peeking from underneath his sweater, his collar was lopsided and his tie was arbitrarily knotted into a poor excuse of a windsor. He was transfixed on you, studying your features as though he were making sure that it was really you he tripped at King Tut’s tomb a year ago.

Ginny turned to her brother, and their eyes met, gesturing him to talk. Ron opened his mouth but his vocal chords refused him any vibration. You stared at him, as the gears grinded in his head.

“Er, I wouldn’t say went on about you,” Ron explained

“Wouldn’t say? Don’t lie, Ron.” Ginny said. Ron looked at her annoyedly, and Ginny smiled in return.

You smile, “Is it true you eat candied slugs here?”

Ginny chortles, “Candied slugs?”

“Is it not, uh, a delicacy? He told me that last year,” You ask, pointing to Ron

“Blimey…” Ron mutters. Ginny laughs. He reasons, “I thought you were a muggle.” You shoot him a puzzled look, “Muggle?”

“Normal, non-magic,” Ginny cuts in. Ron shoots her another look.

“Oh? Did, uh, I look not magical?” You ask jokingly.

“You were more than magical,” Ron says in a dream-like tone.

You fluster at his words and Ginny’s face turns into a disgusted look.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Ginny says, turning her heel to exit the hall. Ron pleads at Ginny through his eyes, but she takes no notice and leaves him with you.

A pause takes you both. You recollect yourself, planning out what you want to say to Ron.

“I still have our, uh, polaroid.” You say warmly at Ron. He feels lighter, more comfortable knowing you kept the little piece of memorabilia from Egypt.

“So do I!” He exclaims, too enthusiastically. He sinks back down into composure, silently scolding himself for the unwanted burst of energy. “I thought you weren’t a witch, honestly.”

You smile, “I could see your wand.”

Ron blushes fiercely, shades of red slowly taking place on his face, soon it becomes so strong, it’s enough to rival his hair, “I-I’m sorry?”

“Your, uh, wand. It was held together, by, uh, tape.” You declare.

Ron sighed in relief, “You did?”

“Yes, it was in your back pocket the whole time, no?”

“Call me daft, I really thought no one would notice.”

“It’s why I thought you knew I was a witch,” You say. “I didn’t care to point it, er, out.”

Ron laughed humorlessly.

“Would you, er, care to show me around the castle?” You ask him. Ron inhaled deeply and his mouth crunched into himself, a habit that showed when he was nervous.

He carefully pushed a bang out of his face, before responding, “Uhm, okay.”

Ron feigns gentlemanliness, gesturing you to the exit of the hall. His feet don’t move in tune with each other, causing him to lose balance. He utters choice words, but you don’t seem to notice. You walk towards the exit and Ron is right behind you, eyeing you up and down, while whispering a strained bloody hell.

As Harry and Hermione waited for Ron at the hall doors, they were surprised to see you come out first with him on your tail. Hermione’s jaw dropped and Harry’s face lit up in approval.

“‘Ello!” You greeted them, “My name is [Y/N]!”

Harry’s eyes were wide, blinking away; Hermione scoffed in Ron’s direction. Ron merely shrugged, one of his bangs falling over his right eye. You looked back at Ron and at them, smiling. You were absolutely oblivious to the unspoken conversation the three were having amongst themselves. Ron’s head tilts in your direction, begging with Harry to say something.

“I’m Harry, Ron has told us so much about you, this here is Hermione,” Harry says, gesturing to her. Ron panics silently and makes a pained noise, causing you to look back at him. Harry is losing it and trying very hard to stay composed. Hermione is still silent, looking at you and looking back at Ron.

“Has he?” You ask Hermione and Harry.

“Oh, loads.” Says Harry simply. Ron wants to die.

“Er, why don’t we walk her around for a bit, yeah?” Ron takes you by the wrist, shuffling between Harry and Hermione. Hermione looks to Harry in disapproval, arms crossed. Harry shrugs and follows Ron.

Hermione catches up to Harry and whispers angrily, “What? Like she’s a dog?”

Hermione decides to leave the group, taking a right to the moving staircases, and she drags Harry along with her, much to his dismay. Ron was alone with you now.

The walk around the castle was quiet but you didn’t seem to mind. Ron was looking at you the whole time, looking away when you looked at him. Ron was taken back with how you were willingly donating your time to him, when you could have joined the Durmstrang boy who sat next to you during the feast. He could swear you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Though he was supposed to be leading you around Hogwarts, he was letting you lead and following you like a puppy.

You two finally stop at the courtyard, taking a seat on the grass. Ron stays standing, hands in pockets, pushing his cloak back. He’s looking around, avoiding your gaze. You catch his eye and pat the grass next to you. He cautiously sits down and assumes a long-sit. It is silent for a while, as you are basking in the moonlight. Ron is holding his breath, trying to emulate your relaxed demeanor but failing miserably.

“I think it’s important to tell you,” You start, breaking the silence, “I’m part veela.”

Ron is bewildered, “Veela?”

“I think it is why you are so nervous around me,”

“Nervous? Who said I was nervous?” He chuckles humorlessly and boomerangs back to a neutral expression. You laugh in response.

“It’s not really an, uh, intended effect. It comes with it, like how you are a wizard who does magic. Veelas attract other people very much so.”

“Oh,” Ron musters as a response. He stays silent, and so do you. It gets dark quickly, and you shoot up immediately.

“I didn’t realize how late it has gotten!” You exclaim to Ron, who stands quickly. You dust off your uniform, while Ron watches you. You’re quite the sight under the stars and Ron is absolutely lovestruck. “Madame Maxime will, as the English say, have my head.”

Ron smiles at you, unable to muster an answer as your smile is distracting and mesmerizing and simply put, beautiful. You grab his hand and pull him closer, landing a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you for bringing me around,” You whisper in a hug. As you pull away, you continue, “I hope to see you around again Don’t, uh, worry. I think I can find my way back.”

Ron is staring at you, rubbing his palm over his cheek. You giggle and walk back the same route you came. Ron is behind you again, looking you up and down again, while whispering a signature bloody hell again. He sees you walk down the hall until he can no longer see your figure and he makes his way back to the common room.

Harry is waiting on the sofa, as Hermione tucked herself in an hour before.

“I’m in love!” exclaims Ron to Harry. “I think I love her. I love her.”

Harry laughs in response.

“I’m not joking, mate!” Ron says to him in a serious tone. “I have to see her again.”

“Alright, you aren’t joking!” Harry replies back strongly.

“Harry, I mean it I have to see her again!” Ron says again, with such a remarkable tone of desperation in his voice. His face is so close to Harry’s, Harry wrings his head backward for protection.

“They’ll be here the whole year, Ron. You don’t have to worry.”

Ron is satisfied with Harry’s answer, and wordlessly climbs up the stairs to his bed. He makes a beeline for his sock drawer, thrashing it open, throwing sock after sock out of it until he finds the polaroid of you two together. He lays it on his bed, photo in hand, resting it on his chest. He repeats your name with a smile on his face. He doesn’t bother to change out of his school clothes, and falls asleep hoping to see you the next day and the day after that and the day after that.

part 2? lmk! <3

masterlist here

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x y/n #ron weasley #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley fic #ron weasley x female reader #ron weasley fluff

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