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dreamcubed · 8 months

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me! | george weasley x reader

song; me! [taylor swift, brendon uri(n)e] pairing; george weasley x fem!muggle!reader genre; accidental marriage, s2l, fluff, comedy word count; 7,8k timeline; post-second wizarding war (fred lives au) warnings; swearing, referenced alcohol consumption, references to hook-ups, references to sex, references to the war summary; after waking up in bed with a red-haired stranger and no memories of the night prior, you run off as quickly as you can. it isn't until months later when you're trying to buy a house that you learn that you can't just leave that forgotten night in the past

thought it would be ironic to have the song with the lyrics "i promise that you'll never find another like me" and "i'm the only one of me" with one of the twins lol

masterlist

"you're the kinda guy the ladies want."

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Typically, you were more responsible than this. You had always stayed away from drunk hook-up culture, hoping (perhaps too idealistically) to find organic love. Yet, on the night of your cousin's bachelorette party, you got so drunk that you found yourself in bed with a stranger the next morning. And you didn't know what to do.

All you could do for a few moments was look around the hotel room that you had evidently decided was necessary for the hook-up - and although you couldn't remember a single thing after your tenth shot at the club, the fact you were both naked gave away the events of the night prior.

He was red-haired, and quite nicely toned, but he also donned a partially missing ear. You couldn't see his face, so at that particular moment you couldn't judge whether or not drunk you had good taste. You pushed that thought aside - that was the least of your concerns. You needed to get out of there and forget that anything had ever happened, which shouldn't be too difficult thanks to the alcohol-induced memory loss.

So, with that, you slipped out of bed and scavenged for all your clothes around the room, and then quickly departed. You made it all the way down to the lobby without any human interaction, but it was there at the desk that you finally had to communicate.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?" the receptionist smiled at you.

You frowned, not understanding why they would address you as such - probably had mistaken you for someone else. But, you were in a hurry, so just grinned and nodded, leaving to never return.

***

Not many people were fortunate enough to buy their first home (alone) at the age of twenty-four without any help from their parents, but you had chosen a rather well-paid career path and had been meticulous with your money savings, so this was a reality for you. After a few months of working with a real estate agent to view houses and find the perfect home for you, you had finally come to a decision.

You had stumbled upon it really, when travelling from London to visit your family, you came across a road that you had sworn hadn't been there before. Curiosity had overcame you, and you had driven down it to find the cutest village named Godric's Hollow, which could also be described as peculiar. A lot of things in the village didn't make sense - like the fact they all seemed bewildered at the sight of your car - but the architecture was gorgeous. When you drove past an adorable rustic cottage with a 'for sale' sign out front, you didn't even have to think twice about viewing it.

It was a strange process, however, as the sign didn't have a number for the real estate agency, but instead read 'owl Cauldron Realtors for more details'. You asked around for information about Cauldron Realtors (a particularly strange name, comparable to the robes many of the older members of the village wore), and they pointed you in the direction of the realtor's.

From then on, the process to view the house and apply for a mortgage had been relatively normal, if not a bit old-fashioned in the lack of technology used. However, you reasoned that it was a small village and that they merely hadn't updated themselves like cities just yet.

***

"Why have you asked me to come here?" you asked as delicately as you could upon entering Cauldron Realtors.

"We have had something come up," Mr Linseed said to you. He was an eccentric old man, constantly adorning a pair of half-moon spectacles perched on the tip of his nose.

"Like what?"

"You told us that you weren't married."

You frowned.

"And I thought it was a bit strange given your muggle situation, but honestly I had simply assumed that you were a squib."

He was using a lot of words that you didn't understand. You had heard the word muggle passed around in the time that you had spent in Godric's Hollow, but had been unable to find out what it meant online or in any dictionary. Everyone used it so commonly you had felt too embarrassed to ask.

"Obviously, this changes the process for you to apply for a mortgage. We need your husband to sign off either that he will partially own the house or have no claim over it."

"I don't understand- I'm not married," you said.

"No?" the man raised a brow at you, "When we searched for legal documentation of your name, we found that it hadn't been Y/N L/N for a few months, but instead Y/N Weasley. I didn't think much of you not having gotten around to changing your bank details yet since it hasn't been long, but going by your maiden name is a little strange. So, I assumed that the marriage was short-lived."

Why did Weasley sound so familiar? You wracked your brain for when you had heard it before.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?"

Your eyes widened.

The guy from the hotel.

"What did you say my husband's name was?" you said slowly.

"I didn't, but George Weasley," Mr Linseed replied, "You knew that, though, correct?"

You nodded, "Yeah... just making sure."

The man frowned at you, "He is quite well-known I suppose - the shop Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is quite famous. Anyhow, here are the new forms that I need you to fill out and then we will be back on track."

You accepted them in a daze, but snapped your eyes up towards him again, "Where can I find Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"Diagon Alley, of course," Mr Linseed was clearly confused that you didn't know where your husband worked.

You had never heard of Diagon Alley, and he sensed that.

"You know? Through The Leaky Cauldron? On Charing Cross Road?"

Finally, a name you recognised.

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Mr Linseed, I'll be back soon."

God, what a process to get yourself a house.

***

You were pretty sure that in all your visits to Charing Cross Road, you had never seen that pub squeezed between those buildings before. But, you weren't about to complain, as you were desperate to find George Weasley and sort everything out. You couldn't remember his face, but you remembered his red hair and partially missing ear - that should be enough to identify him.

You hoped, anyway.

Upon entering the gloomy pub, you were met by quite a shocking sight - but one that wasn't entirely indifferent to Godric's Hollow. Except, you would describe the pub as having a more creepy ambiance, in a way. Beady eyes peered in your direction as you walked up to the bar, and you tried to hold your own as a woman with matted grey hair and disturbingly long fingernails smiled at you with missing teeth. You forced a smile back.

"Excuse me," you said to the bartender, who was similar to the woman in energy, "How do I get to Diagon Alley?"

He pointed to the door out the back.

"Just through that door?"

"You'll need your wand too," the woman who had smiled at you said, "To tap the wall."

"Wand?" you squeaked.

"I'll show you," the woman said eerily.

In any normal circumstance, you would have declined the offer, but you had already had so many new experiences you found yourself following her out the back.

"You're not one of us, are you?" she asked with a giggle of glee, pulling out a wooden stick from her pocket.

You didn't reply, watching as she brought it up and tapped some of the bricks on the wall. To your amazement, they then parted, presenting to you the most bustling and magical street that you had ever seen.

"Diagon Alley," she stated, "Although I prefer Knockturn Alley."

You thanked her, and hurried into the street.

***

The pet shops were strange: mostly having owls, cats and toads. The book shops were strange: having cages of moving books in the display windows. The clothes shops were strange: pretty much exclusively selling robes and pointed hats. All in all, Diagon Alley was the most eccentric place you had ever been.

There was a broomstick shop, a wand shop, and a place to buy cauldrons. You were so out of your depth that you decided you should focus on the task at hand.

It wasn't long before you found a bright and buzzing shop named Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, looking ten times more exciting than all the shops before it. You were almost overwhelmed with all the young people inside once you entered, and it finally became obvious to you that it was a joke shop. The numerous prank items on display were clearly enchanted in a way too, only furthering your amazement at this street.

You scanned around for a redhead, but it was really difficult to spot anything within the chaos. Eventually, you located a flash of red by the till and hurried over. The queue was unfortunately long, but you waited impatiently nonetheless.

When you finally reached the front, the red-haired man behind it looked at you, and you couldn't help but noticed he had two full ears.

"Are you buying anything, miss?"

"I'm looking for George Weasley," you said quickly.

He rose an eyebrow at you, "What for?"

"It's a long story, I really need to talk to him."

"I'll fetch him," he said, and disappeared out back for a few moments before returning with a man almost identical to him save for that all-too-familiar ear. He didn't look at you like he recognised you - maybe he drank so much he had memory loss too? That would make sense, considering he hadn't tried to find you either.

"Can I help you?" George Weasley asked, gesturing for you to move to the side so that his twin could continue at the till.

"This is gonna sound crazy, but," you took a deep breath, "You're my husband."

"You're right, that does sound crazy," he chuckled.

"You woke up in a hotel room a few months ago, right?"

His eyes widened, "I thought I hooked up with someone," he said, "Wasn't sure, though, because I woke up alone."

"Sorry about that. I don't really do hook-ups, I kinda freaked out and bolted."

"I don't really do hook-ups either," he shrugged, "No hard feelings."

"Anyway, as I said, it turns out we got married that night."

"Wow. I honestly can't remember anything."

"Me neither," you shook your head, "And we can't get an annulment - the cut off is three months. And we were way too efficient with sending off the marriage registration - we did it immediately."

He hummed, "That's quite a predicament. Divorce, then?"

You nodded, "Yes, obviously. But that will take ages, and I'm trying to buy a house for myself right now. I need you to sign off that you have no claim over it."

"That's no problem," thank God he was agreeable, "But what's your name?"

"Y/N L/N," you said, "Well, legally Y/N Weasley."

The man smirked at you, which admittedly made your stomach flip. Drunk you definitely had good taste: this man was gorgeous.

"Where's the house you're buying?" he asked.

"Godric's Hollow."

"Ah, my sister lives there," he hummed, "Nice village."

"Can I ask you a question - since you're my husband and all?" you didn't know why you added the last bit.

"Fire away."

"Why does everyone keep going on about muggles and wizards and witches and magic? I'm so lost, I don't know what's happening."

"Wait- you're a muggle?"

"As everyone apparently keeps saying."

He chuckled, "Oh, wow. My wife's a muggle."

"What does it mean?"

"I'll explain," he gestured towards the door to the back room, "But it'll be a lot to take in."

"I don't care, I just want an explanation."

And so, your husband, George Weasley, explained about the wizarding world that he was a part of. And how, by marrying him, you had automatically been granted permission by the Ministry of Magic to be an exception for all anti-muggle charms. Which was why you discovered the road to Godric's Hollow all of a sudden as a non-magic person, which you learned was what muggle meant.

At the very end of his explanation, you sat back in the armchair he had offered to you, "That explains so much. It's insane- but I'm relieved that it's not me going crazy."

"Must be quite a shock," he hummed, "I can't believe we got married. Are there any photos?"

"I mean, I suppose we could find the chapel we got married at and ask."

"Maybe it will trigger some memories of that night. I got drunkenly married - who knows what else I did?" he sighed.

"I don't know if I want to know."

George shrugged, "Better to find out that way than have a random woman come into your place of work and announce she's your wife."

You grimaced, making him laugh.

"I'm just teasing."

"Can I get your number? So I can contact you when I need to?" you asked.

George stared at you, "Number?"

"How do wizards and witches communicate?" you exasperated.

"By owl."

You blanked.

"You might want to get yourself one if you're moving into a wizarding village."

"How do they know where to go?"

"They just do."

You sighed.

***

"So, I phoned the chapel that we got married at and they confirmed that we signed the marriage registration and sent it off immediately," you said to George, taking a seat opposite him in your flat that you currently resided in, "They also posted this to me." You presented a large envelope to your husband and watched as he carefully opened it - even though it was already unsealed thanks to you.

He pulled out a marriage certificate: lettered in italic gold writing and clearly signed on the bottom two corners. As he pulled that out, another piece of card fluttered to the ground. You chewed your lip as you watched him pick it up.

"Wow," was all he said.

It was the same reaction you had when looking upon the photo of you and George at the alter: lips pressed together with smiles creeping on to your faces.

"We look so happy."

You hummed, "The photo hasn't triggered any memories for me."

You watched curiously as he waved it about. "It's weird that muggle photos don't move," he commented, "But- yeah- I can't remember anything more either."

"Maybe it's been too long," you reasoned, "Perhaps if we'd seen the photo the day after, it would've helped."

"Probably," he shrugged, "I can find a charm or potion that will help us remember - if you want to."

It hadn't occurred to you that magic was now a readily available tool.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you said after a while, "I just really want to seal the deal on my house."

George nodded, "Of course, I'll sign the papers saying I have no right to it."

"Thank you for making this so easy," you said, giving him a warm grin, "When I found out I was married, I was so worried it was to a complete asshole."

"When I found out I was married, I thought it was simply a cute way a gorgeous woman had of flirting with me."

You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his comment. George was a stunning man: his damaged ear only added a rugged element to him, enhancing his beauty in a way that you didn't know possible.

He noticed your flustered reaction and chuckled a bit, "However, there is one problem with me signing those papers that your real estate agent really should've mentioned."

"What?" you filled with worry: that house was your dream house.

"If you're buying a house in the wizarding world, you're going to need a wizarding bank account."

"He kept going on about galleons," you thought for a moment, "But then he converted to pounds so I didn't think much of it."

George hummed, "Yes, but you're still going to need to pay in galleons."

"How do I get a wizarding bank account?"

"Only wizards, witches, squibs and muggles married to any of the former can access one. Oh, and muggles with magic children, even if they aren't married."

You realised what he was getting at. "So I can get one, but..."

"But it has to be a shared one with me."

You pulled your hands down your face, "But I love that house so much."

"I promise you I'm not trying to trap you."

"No, no- I get it. I just- that means I'd have to stay married to you until my mortgage is paid off. And that takes like thirty years."

"Even then, the bills would still need to be paid in galleons."

"Oh, fuck," you muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

George watched you in silence.

"I'm sorry. I'll divorce you and forget about the house," you said eventually, "It's not fair for me to force you to stay in a marriage for the rest of your life - I mean, I can't force you."

"I didn't say anything about that."

You frowned. In your mind, there was no other option.

"I'm willing to do it."

"George, it's just a house, you really don't need to-"

"I will," he reiterated, "You realise that if you divorce me, you won't be able to access the magic world anymore?"

It had become something you were so excited to explore that you were disheartened by that fact.

"It would be cruel for me to take it away from you, I think."

"But-"

"So, I will set you up on my bank account, sign off on the house, and stay married to you."

Your mouth was opened wide as you stared at him, and in a flash you had leaped across the coffee table in order to pull him into a hug.

"You're so amazing," you mumbled, hugging him tighter as he returned the embrace, "Thank you so much."

"Hey, anything for my wife," he chuckled.

Your heart stopped.

***

"I've had to change my name on my driver's license and passport and bank account and everything else," you sighed, "Such a hassle for a fucking house."

George, who was walking with you throughout the empty house that you had just officially bought, chuckled, as he seemed to enjoy doing, "You must really love this place."

You shrugged, "The house, I would probably get over. An entire magical world that I would lose access to? Not so much."

He hummed, gazing around the place. You had decided that he at least deserved to see the property that he had given up so much for you to own.

"I can't wait to begin decorating," you sighed, "I have big plans for the downstairs rooms and the master bedroom."

"What about the other bedrooms?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you pondered, "I'll probably make one of them an office, but the other two, I honestly don't know. It'll be a while before I have any kiddly winks running around."

"How come?"

"I need to find a man to create them with first," you reminded, "And that will be especially complicated since I'm married."

"Not if it's with me."

You were pretty sure his words held a joking undertone, so you laughed.

"Well, I shan't keep you any longer," you said, "I guess we'll keep in touch?"

"Stop by my shop as much as you can," George replied, but you sensed a slight trace of sadness in his voice.

Nonetheless, you smiled, "Of course."

***

Was two days later too soon to take George up on his offer of stopping by? Maybe, but life was too short for you to not do the things that you wanted to do. Plus, you were exhausted from moving furniture and painting (since you were stuck doing it the 'muggle' way), so a getaway from your new home was needed.

After getting someone from the Leaky Cauldron to let you into Diagon Alley, you made your way down to the corner that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes sat on. You couldn't help the fond smile that tugged on your lips as you pushed open the door and heard the tinkle of the bell above you. The last time you were there, you had been too nervous about meeting your husband to properly appreciate the joyful buzz of the shop; it was truly a marvel to witness. You wish you had grown up with access to such extraordinary things.

"Hello," a redhead popped up beside you.

You jumped a little, not failing to notice the fact this man, although initially appearing to be George, had two full ears.

"Hello... Fred?" you attempted to recall his name.

He nodded, "I must say, I wasn't expecting my sister-in-law to pop by today."

It hadn't occurred to you that George would have mentioned his marriage to his twin brother, but now it seemed obvious that he would have.

"Is my husband here?" you asked, adding a joking undertone. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but notice how warm saying that made you feel.

"Of course, he's out back."

"Should I...?" you trailed off.

"You don't need to ask permission to go out back," he chuckled, in a strikingly similar way to George, "You're married to one of the owners."

"Yeah, but-" but before you could finish your sentence, your brother-in-law had disappeared. With a sigh, you proceeded on your way to the staff-only space, unable to push aside how special you felt being able to freely enter the area.

It was only when you caught sight of George's back did you realise that you had nothing to say and had simply stopped by.

"Y/N!" he smiled, turning around upon sensing your presence, "What brings you here?"

You shrugged, "You said to stop by often."

His grin stretched wider, "That I did, I'm glad to see you."

You felt shy after hearing him say that, and avoided eye contact.

"How's moving in going?"

"Oh- well. Exhausting, though," you sighed.

"I can't imagine having to do everything without magic," he said, "If you want any help to speed up the process, I'm more than willing."

You shook your head, "You've done enough for me."

"I could never do enough for you," he half-mumbled, but you heard it. You couldn't believe it, but you heard it. "I'm free this weekend," he said at a more regular volume.

"I mean- if you're sure-"

"Of course I'm sure."

"I-" you stopped yourself, "Thank you, George."

"Georgie!" a voice called from the front of the shop, not long before a short plump woman appeared in the doorway. "There you are," she said with hands on her hips.

"Oh, hi, mum," he said, "I wasn't expecting you."

"I was just in town looking to pick up your father a new shirt - I don't know how he wears them out so quickly!" she sighed, "I thought I'd take the chance to invite you over for a roast on Sunday."

You smiled at the evidently kind woman.

"And who is this?" she asked.

"This is Y/N."

"How did you two meet?" this time she had a glint in her eye.

"Uh, funny story, actually," George scratched the back of his head, "We're married."

You were surprised at his honesty with his mother.

The woman's eyes widened, "And you didn't tell me!"

"No one knew, mum- not even us," he quickly added.

She seemed to ignore what the last part of his statement implied, and swooped you into her arms, "Welcome to the family, my dear, we have a lot of time to make up for! You'll be coming on Sunday too, yes?"

She didn't give you a chance to reply.

"I'll have to tell your father immediately - do all your siblings know? I expect Fred does. Probably Ron too." She paused, "I haven't even introduced myself! Molly Weasley - call me Molly, of course."

"Mum-"

"Godric- I have so many people to tell! I'll see you both Sunday at four o'clock, please don't be late."

And with a hug to both of you, Molly Weasley departed just as rapidly as she had arrived.

"I'm sorry about that- my mum can be very full on," George apologised.

"I think she's sweet."

A soft smile graced his face, "Yes, she's a very lovely woman."

You hummed.

"I'll get you out of the dinner."

You frowned, "Why?"

"Well, my family will think you're- well-"

With a shrug, you replied, "I don't mind."

"I have a big family."

"I know."

"Most of them are quite loud people."

"That's okay."

"They'll ask a lot of questions."

"George, I want to meet your family," you realised as soon as you said them what your words could potentially mean.

"It's just- I- I don't want them to scare you away."

"Scare me away?"

He nodded.

You chuckled, "I'd like to see them try."

***

Sunday rolled around quickly, and as promised, George showed up at your house to pick you up at five to four. You figured that his parents must live very nearby if he was picking you up so late, but you hadn't given it much thought. All you had done was focused on yourself, dressing up what you deemed the adequate amount for a family event.

A knock sounded on the door, and you quickly rushed to open it, smiling when you were faced with the red headed man that you could call your husband. He was wearing a knitted jumper and baggy jeans, which was a relief to you since you also sported a knitted jumper, just with a skirt instead.

"Hello," you said, almost shyly.

"Hey," he replied, "You ready to go?"

"Yep, let me just-" you hurried back inside to grab the bouquet of flowers that you had bought for his mother, you weren't familiar with the guidelines for meeting family as you had never been in a relationship long enough to reach that stage, but flowers had felt like the right thing.

"Oh, for me?" he said teasingly.

You shook your head, dramatically holding them away from him, "You would be so lucky."

He chuckled, "Right, let's get going," he held out his arm for you to take, "You're gonna want to hold tight."

You frowned, but took his advice nonetheless, taking a firm grip of his bicep which had a hardness that made your heart flip. But before you could dwell on that thought, you felt like you had been sucked into a vacuum and spat out again in a split second. Your stomach cramped up and you felt nauseous as you fell on to grass in a completely new location.

"Sorry, that often happens the first time," George quickly helped you up along with the flowers, which thankfully were unharmed.

"Did we just- teleport?" you asked, holding your stomach. Thankfully, the nausea was already dissipating.

"We call it apparating but yes, we did."

"Why couldn't I be born a witch?" you whined, following George as he began walking up the path ahead of you.

You could only be amazed when the strangest house that you had ever seen came into view: looking like it should tumble over instantly with the mismatched extensions stacked on top of each other. Not too long ago, you would have been worried about its sketchy looking state, but now you immediately concluded that it was kept steady by magic. Even at the distance you still were from the house, you could hear a lot of noise coming from it.

"I bet you anything Fleur and Hermione insisted on being early," George grumbled, "Making my brothers look like angelic sons."

You smiled to yourself: his relationship with his siblings was making you want to reach out to your sister.

George didn't bother knocking when you reached the door, simply throwing it open and grinning at everyone who was stood around the kitchen. You couldn't help but feel some level of nerves as you were faced with so many strangers.

"George! Y/N!" Molly beamed, pulling you both into a hug, "I'm so glad that you could make it."

You presented the flowers to her, "I got you these."

"Oh, they're gorgeous!"

You watched as she pulled out her wand and arranged them in a vase without even using her hands. You didn't think observing magic would ever get old.

"Thank you, dear," she said, before turning to the others in the room. There was Ron, who you vaguely recognised from the shop, with a curly brown-haired woman on his side. Then there was the most ethereal woman that you had ever seen next to one of the more rugged looking men that you had seen in your time. There was also an older, balding, red headed man, who you suspected to be George's father.

"Y/N, you might remember Ron here," George said, and you nodded, "And this is his fiancée, Hermione. This is my dad, and over there is my oldest brother, Bill, and his wife, Fleur."

"Our little shit of a son is running around here somewhere," Bill added.

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N," George's father shook your hand, "You can call me Arthur."

"I didn't realise you were bringing a guest, George," Hermione said.

"Oh, she's no guest," Molly smiled, "She's family."

The only person who didn't exchange confused glances was Ron.

"I'm his, uh, wife," you said, feeling awkward. You didn't really want to say it, because it felt like you were lying to them even though you weren't.

What followed was an array of congratulations, and Hermione accusing Ron of not telling her when he clearly already knew. And then, upon being asked, you both finally revealed that it was an accidental marriage upon which you were both very drunk. Molly was new to this news as well, but nonetheless, before you could give any more detail on where your 'relationship' with George currently stood, she spoke.

"As irresponsible as that was, I think there's something beautiful in the fact that you're now happily married."

While you weren't unhappily married, you didn't know how to say that you didn't know you were married until a couple months later, and that you weren't in a relationship with George. He said nothing to clarify, either.

That was when a small boy tumbled into the room.

"Ah, zis is Victoire," Fleur said, "Our son."

He was just as red headed as his father.

God, your kids with George would probably end up redheaded.

You internally froze at that thought - why had it seemed so natural to imagine yourself having kids with George?

You were yet again distracted from your mind, as seemed common in the Weasley household, when more people arrived. It was Fred and his fiancée, Angelina, as you soon learned. Shortly followed by Harry Potter, allegedly quite a celebrity, who was dating George's only sister, Ginny.

The only person to arrive alone was Percy, who had a much less chaotic energy than the rest of his siblings.

"You'll meet Charlie at some point," Molly said to you, "But he lives in Romania for his work with dragons."

It was insane to you that George had five brothers and one sister; having six siblings seemed like such a hectic upbringing. That thought almost led you to brush over Molly's mention of dragons - dragons?

Once again, you were introduced as George's wife, solidifying you in their eyes as a sister-in-law. These were your in-laws, you realised.

"Dinner's almost ready," Molly announced over the noise of all the people.

Many people rushed forward to help the woman with the finishing touches and laying the table, and you felt like an ass for not assisting as well, but you would have been of no help. They were all using magic, which was ten times faster than you could complete any task.

"What year did you graduate school? I can't remember you," Ginny said, evidently assuming that her lack of recognition was because you had been in a different year at Hogwarts from her. George had told you how most witches and wizards in a similar age group knew each other because of there only being one magic school in the country.

"I didn't go to Hogwarts," you said.

"Oh, did you study abroad?" she asked, walking over to the table with you.

"No, uh, I'm a- I'm a muggle."

Her eyes widened in realisation, "Oh! I see," she hummed, "That makes sense now that I think about it."

"You're a muggle?" Hermione, who had overheard, said.

You nodded.

"I'm muggle-born," she said, "I was raised muggle."

"I was raised muggle too," Harry added on, "But I'm not muggle-born."

After that point, Arthur Weasley kept posing an array of questions to you, explaining that he was fascinated by muggles, and it was even what had led him to having the job that he did. Wanting to be liked, you answered all his questions as best as you could, and found his childlike curiosity quite endearing.

"Leave the poor girl alone, Arthur," Molly scolded her husband.

"I don't mind," you replied, and, really, you didn't.

The food was absolutely delicious, to the point you almost moaned when you first put it in your mouth. You didn't think you had ever eaten such delectable food before, and you made sure that Molly knew.

Once the first course was finished and dessert was being brought out, Bill and Fleur stood up.

"We have an announcement to make," the latter smiled, looking to her husband.

"Fleur's pregnant," Bill grinned, placing his hand on her abdomen.

"Oh, that's wonderful news!" Molly exclaimed, "How far along?"

"Twelve weeks, two days ago," Fleur said, "In ze clear zone, as zey say."

"We don't know the gender yet," Bill added.

"For your sake I hope it's a girl," Molly sighed, "It took me six tries."

"We will be happy eizer way," Fleur said simply.

You couldn't help but get the sense there was some level of tension between her and Molly, so you leaned over to George as everyone began chatting again, congratulating the expecting couple.

"Do your mum and Fleur get along?" you whispered.

"Well, yes, but they haven't always," he whispered back, "My mum thought she was vain at first, even thinking that she would call off the wedding when Bill got that scar." He was referring to the large mark on his eldest brother's face.

You hummed.

"They've mostly resolved their problems now, but I think there will always be a bit of tension."

After dinner, you wandered around the home, observing all the moving pictures of the family.

"Aw, you were so cute back then," you said to George, looking at a photo of him as a toddler on a mini broomstick.

"Are you saying I'm not anymore?"

You shrugged.

"And how do you know that's me and not Fred?"

"You may be a twin, but there's only one of you, George," you said in passing, not realising how much those words meant to your husband. As much as he loved being an identical twin, there were times where he didn't want to be seen as part of a package deal. Even his mother struggled to tell him and Fred apart before his ear injury, but you- you could recognise him instantly.

Your gaze moved up the wall.

"That's an interesting clock."

It didn't tell the time, but instead had a hand for all of Molly and Arthur's brood, all currently pointing in the direction of 'home' apart from who must be Charlie, which pointed at work.

"Even on Sundays, he works," George sighed, "You know, there was a time where me and Fred had the same hand."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but after he moved in with Angelina, mum had it altered."

Your eyes flicked over the 'mortal peril' section of the clock, and you didn't realise you had read it aloud til he responded.

"Thankfully that hasn't served a purpose since the war."

It was unbelievable to you that such a life-changing war had happened while you remained completely oblivious.

"I suppose we'll have to expand the guest list for our wedding," Angelina approached you, making you turn away from the clock.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," you said.

"No, no. An extra person is hardly anything," she smiled, "You're family, of course you're coming."

Family.

"Well, thank you."

"Of course."

***

As you and George said your goodbyes and departed, you couldn't help but let out an elated sigh, "Your family is so warm."

He smiled, "I'm glad you like them."

"They're like, everything I want my in-laws to be."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Loud, happy, there for each other - with the slightest hint of drama, of course. They're perfect."

"We've been through a lot together."

"Yeah, I expect so."

You both fell into a comfortable silence, one that had you feeling content with your life in the most heart-warming way.

"You ready to apparate again?" George broke the silence when you reached the end of the path.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you grasped his arm tightly, prepping yourself for what was to come.

You didn't fall to the ground this time when you appeared outside your house, but you did still feel nauseous for a few moments.

"I'm really glad you came," George said.

"I'm glad too," you smiled.

And then there was silence - tension-filled silence. The kind of silence that led up to what you had secretly hoped would happen this entire time.

His lips on yours.

You moved your hands up to his hair as the kiss got more heated, flashes of memories dancing through your brain.

You met at the bar your cousin's bachelorette party was at, and began chatting. He was charming, and funny, and you were both really drunk. You went on a walk together - you walked past a chapel.

You had suggested getting married - jokingly, but he had then said.

"Why don't we?"

And so you did, giggling and laughing the entire time, even when you kissed. The kiss held the same magical feeling as it did now, that's what had triggered the memory.

He had kissed all along your jaw and neck as you both filled out the forms, and it wasn't long before you both booked a hotel and by all technical terms, consummated.

"I remember," you parted from him breathlessly, only to kiss him again.

"Me too," he mumbled, pushing you back against your front door.

"Do you want to come in?" you asked.

***

This time, you were the one to wake up alone in bed, but that wasn't the only difference. You remembered every single moment and sensation from the night before - and from your wedding night, for that matter. A smile almost crept on to your face, but it dropped when the panic set in that George had upped and left like you had before. You scrambled out of bed, pulling a shirt and some pants on, and then rushed down the stairs to see if he was anywhere in your house.

And he was.

There your husband was, in the kitchen, cooking a full English breakfast - using magic, of course. You had electric appliances installed when you moved in, since most magic homes didn't generally possess them, but with George there, you supposed they weren't really necessary.

"Hey, love."

Love. That's what he had called you all of last night and your wedding night.

It made heat travel to your ears.

"Hi," you replied shyly.

"Take a seat, I'm almost finished."

You obeyed, deciding to let the wizard take care of you, even though he really had done too much for you ever since you met him - the second time, that was.

Your dining table was a temporary one, as your entire home was still a work in progress: it wasn't easy decorating an entire house by yourself, especially without the assistance of magic. Nevertheless, it did the job. George came over with the food and sat opposite you, gesturing for you to dig in.

"Thank you," you smiled, picking up the cutlery.

"I told you, anything for you."

"You're too perfect," you mumbled, making George chuckle.

"My ear may be injured, but my hearing's fine."

You looked up at him to make eye contact, feeling like he could read you with his gaze, "Your ear makes you even more perfect."

"I'm glad you think so, would be a bit upsetting for me if you didn't."

"I aim to please," you grinned.

***

"You didn't tell me the wedding would be quite so soon," you huffed, straightening out the pastel pink dress you adorned in the mirror.

George shrugged, tightening his tie, "Didn't think about it."

You were, of course, in reference to Angelina and Fred's wedding, merely two weeks after the dinner in which you met the former. Out of all the moving boxes you still had left to unpack, you had been forced to dig for a suitable outfit that fitted the colour scheme.

Aside from work, you and George had been practically glued at the hip in the days since he first stayed at yours - and he had been consistently staying at yours ever since. He had probably spent about three nights total at his own flat in that time span. So much to the point that when he came over the day prior, he had brought his suit for the wedding with him, fully anticipating that he would be spending the night.

You hadn't put a label on what you currently were, other than legally married, as it was.

"We have to be early," he said, "Since I'm the best man."

"I'm aware," you replied, sitting on the edge of your bed to pull your shoes on, "I'm pretty much ready."

"Alright, let's go."

***

The ceremony was a beautiful occasion: held at the Weasley house, The Burrow. The entire garden was decorated beautifully in shades of pink, purple and white, with bouquets of flowers adorning every table and chair. Obviously, a drastic difference from your own wedding.

You were sat in the crowd while George was up near the altar with the maid of honour, but he was not your focus. Angelina was a transcendent bride.

When it came to the meal, you were - to your shock - sat on the primary table where the newly weds were. You supposed that it made sense, since George was obviously going to be sat by his twin brother, and you were his wife. Generally, married couples weren't separated at events. You were certainly relieved, since you hardly knew anybody else.

The only other people on the main table were Molly, Arthur, Angelina's parents, and Angelina's maid of honour and her partner. There was a second table for the rest of the Weasley siblings and their partners, and so on and so forth for more distant relatives and friends.

Once the toasts were made, the meal commenced, and you hadn't realised how hungry you were 'til that moment.

"Slow down, love," your husband commented, "I'd prefer if you didn't choke."

You shrugged, your mouth full. Once you had eventually swallowed, you said, "Much grander event than our wedding."

"We could always renew our vows," he said, and even though he had made many comments about wanting to do anything for you, and had done many intimate things to you in the bedroom (and elsewhere in your house, for that matter), it felt like the first real confirmation that you were in a relationship. Even more, that you weren't just in a marriage out of convenience, but instead because you simply wanted to be.

You parted your mouth to reply, when some children from Angelina's side began causing chaos by running around. "Lord, our kids better behave," you muttered.

George turned to look at you, and it was then that you became aware of what you had said.

"Our kids?" he was grinning.

"Shut up," you mumbled.

"Never - just let me know when you want to start, love," he winked at you.

"A bit too soon, I think."

He shrugged, "We got married within a few hours of knowing each other."

"We were drunk."

"We can get drunk again."

You sighed, "We don't even live together."

"I can move in."

You didn't have anymore rebuttals.

"Are you out of arguments now?" he asked.

You reluctantly nodded.

"Perfect."

***

Instead of apparating directly to your house, you and George decided to take a late night walk around Godric's Hollow. It was such a pretty village, and you had yet to appreciate its beauty in the dark, with all the magical lamps glowing around you. But, you knew that you and George needed to have a conversation, especially after the kids talk from earlier.

"Are we together?" you asked him, even though your interlocked hands should have answered the question.

"We're married, love."

"Yes, but are we together?"

"I'd like to think we are - do you?"

You remained silent for a few moments, before nodding and looking at him in the darkness of the night.

"Then there you have it."

"I just don't get why."

"Why what?"

"Why you've done so much for me when you hardly knew me."

George chuckled, "I admit, I don't know exactly when I made the decision to do anything for you, but when you strutted into my shop, determined as ever, and announced that you were my wife, I just-" he paused, squeezing your hand, "You looked so cute and I knew- in that moment- that I would never meet someone else like you."

You felt like you were melting on the spot.

"It may have seemed selfless that I helped you get the house - but, to be honest, it was the perfect excuse for me to trap you to me- make it easier for me to pursue you, that is."

"I love you, George," you sighed.

"I'm glad, because I've loved you for quite some time now."

"Love at first sight?"

"You would be so lucky."

You let out a childish giggle at that.

"But, yes, I think it was."

——————————————————

masterlist

written; 18/08/2023 —> 03/09/2023 published;04/09/2023 edited; —/—/——

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artemisia-black · 3 months

Text

Wizarding clothing and fashion

This meta/list of HCs has been sitting in my drafts for a while. But here is my meta about wizarding fashions.

1.0 An insular culture with its own unique dress

No shade to people who enjoy seeing and drawing characters in muggle clothing, but I think that the majority of wizards and witches dress in wizarding clothing.

Indeed, the fact that most wizards can’t dress as muggles and are quite conspicuous is mentioned in the first chapter of the series:

“People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn’t bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion.” PS

And then becomes a sort of running joke:

“Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly: The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho” GoF

And in DH it is (partly) how Harry recognises that people are watching Grimmauld Place:

“The lurkers were never the same two days running, although they all seemed to share a dislike for normal clothing. Most of the Londoners who passed them were used to eccentric dressers and took little notice, though occasionally one of them might glance back, wondering why anyone would wear such long cloaks in this heat.” DH

Side note: it is peak Londoner to barely take notice of something odd. And this also implies that robes and cloaks are all year wear and that wizards potentially don’t have seasonal clothing.

Given that wizarding culture is very insular (with its own economy, government, and education system), it would make sense that while it may occasionally borrow trends from the muggle world, wizarding fashion and clothing are unique.

In fact, only the younger generation are seen in muggle dress, with Harry commenting:

“Their children might don Muggle clothing during the holidays, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley usually wore long robes in varying states of shabbiness.” GoF

2.0 Class and generational differences in dress

The previous quote demonstrates two things: much like in real life, there is generational and class stratification of dress. The condition and quality of wizarding clothing serves as a non-verbal cue about a character's economic status. This disparity is not just a background detail but is frequently brought into focus, such as through Draco Malfoy's derisive comments about Professor Lupin's tattered robes.

“ Malfoy gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the delapidated suitcase.” PoA

“Look at the state of his robes,” Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. “He dresses like our old house-elf.” PoA

Even Harry comments on his robes and observes that:

“Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes”

The patched and frayed nature of both Lupins and Weasley’s robes seem to indicate that robe repairs can’t be done by an individual (or when it is done, it is really visible). Another example of this is when Ron removes the lace from his dress robes and leaves:

“...the edges still looked depressingly frayed as the boys set off downstairs.” GoF

Additionally, in Padfoot returns Sirius’s prison robes still appear tatty despite him having had a haircut and left the country. This indicates that he either can’t obtain new robes or can’t/hasn’t bothered repairing his Azkaban robes.

This is interesting, given that Molly Weasley is able to make jumpers and scarves yet can’t seem to alter robes. While knitting and sewing are separate skills, it seems odd that there aren’t means of repairing robes.

This suggests that robes can only be repaired and bought at official vendors such as Madam Malkins/Gladrags/Twifitt and Tattings.

It is also interesting that both Fred and George buy clothing when they become successful (also a parallel to the real world). They gift their mum:

“….a brand-new midnight blue witch’s hat glittering with what looked like tiny starlike diamonds, and a spectacular golden necklace.” HBP

However, things being ‘frayed’ aren’t always an indication of poverty. Tonks is first introduced wearing an outfit that is a mix of muggle clothing but with something that is distinctly wizarding:

“Tonks stood just behind him…. wearing heavily patched jeans and a bright purple T-shirt bearing the legend THE WEIRD SISTERS.” OoTP

This outfit is heavily reminiscent of Sirius and James in the Elvendork prequel:

“Both were dressed in T-shirts emblazoned with a large golden bird; the emblem, no doubt, of some deafening, tuneless rock band.”

3.0 The underwear question

Something that gets bought up a lot is whether wizards wear underwear.

Harry (who was raised by muggles certainly seems to):

“He was just piling underwear into his cauldron when Ron made a loud noise of disgust behind him.” GoF

And:

“He was shivering now, his teeth chattering horribly, and yet he continued to strip off until at last he stood there in his underwear…” DH

So does Neville (in the UK, Pants means underwear)

“He broke off as Neville entered the dormitory, bringing with him a strong smell of singed material, and began rummaging in his trunk for a fresh pair of pants.”

And infamously, so does Snape:

“Snape was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of graying underpants.”

Also we get some information about witch’s underwear from Sirius’s very Freudian joke:

“Sirius looked slightly disconcerted for a moment, then said, “I’ll look for him later, I expect I’ll find him upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother’s old bloomers.”

Bloomers are a type of historical, baggy underpants (think boy shorts, but make it victorian).

In conclusion, Archie, who wanted a breeze around his privates, was probably an outlier.

4.0 Materials and accesories

So what is wizarding clothing made of?

For robes and cloaks the materials most mentioned are silk/satin and velvet:

“ She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.” GoF

Additionally in GoF, we learn that even witches and wizards from other countries wear robes and cloaks:

“Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep bloodred.”

And

“...Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold.”

Other materials include Dragon hide which appears to be used to make practical gloves and boots but also fashionable jackets.

“... followed by Fred and George, who were wearing jackets of black dragon skin.” HBP

Additionally, robes can be embroidered:

“ The man’s scowling, slightly brutish face was somehow at odds with his magnificent, sweeping robes, which were embroidered with much gold thread” DH

“Harry glimpsed Slughorn at the head of the Slytherin column, wearing magnificent, long, emerald green robes embroidered with silver” HBP

“Madam Rosmerta scurrying down the dark street toward them on high-heeled, fluffy slippers, wearing a silk dressing gown embroidered with dragons.” HBP

Interestingly, both men and women appear to wear heels:

Dumbledore:

“He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots” PS

Madame Maxine:

“Then Harry saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage..” GoF

Monsiour Delacour:

“However, he looked good-natured. Bouncing toward Mrs. Weasley on high-heeled boots, he kissed her twice on each cheek, leaving her flustered.” DH

Madame Rosmerta:

“ Next he saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels,” POA

Furthermore, witches carry handbags:

“Mrs. Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly” COS

“ She was wearing a thick magenta cloak with a furry purple collar today, and her crocodile-skin handbag was over her arm.” GoF

“Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag” OoTP

“Ron was rummaging through the little witch’s handbag.” DH

5.0 My HCs

When I imagine what male robes look like, I imagine something akin to a Morrcan thobe or an Indian Sherwani.

I imagine robes to be enchanted to move and in my fic Pietas, I describe my OC Aeliana’s robes as follows:

“She smiled slightly, smoothing the front of her dress, which was decorated with embroidered flowers and birds that had been enchanted to flutter their wings.”

I also HC some cultural variance in robes- with certain countries using different cloth or the skin of magical animals that are native to their countries. With hotter countries, having lighter robes and cooling/anti-perspiration charms.

#harry potter

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george-weasleys-girl · 3 months

Text

Begin Again - Pt.1

Season of Love Event

Friends to Lovers to Friends to Lovers Again

*I didn't intend on this turning out as long as it did, but here we are. I'm not certain when the next part will be out. I'd like to say it'll be before the end of the week, but it'll more likely be a couple of weeks. Or possibly in March.

George Weasley x fem!reader

Summary: Six years after the war, a familiar face shows up on Diagon Alley

Warnings: mention of underage sex

~•~

Y/N sank back into the oversized, velvety chair. It'd been a long time since she had traversed the cobblestones of Diagon Alley. Not since before the second Wizarding War.

So much had changed. The little coffee shop she sat in used to be... what was it? A shoe shop? She couldn't quite remember. Well, whatever it had been, it certainly wasn't this cozy little place. She sighed and glanced out the window, her eyes drifting back over to the now world-famous joke shop, debating for the umpteenth time since she set foot back in London two days ago, whether or not to pay a visit.

"Here you go, ma'am," the server's voice broke through her ruminations.

Y/N turned and smiled, happy to see that her order of a double shot of espresso and a giant cinnamon roll had arrived. It wasn't the healthiest of breakfasts, she had to admit, but she needed something to jolt her awake.

"Anything else I can get you?" The server asked, eyeballing the stack of muggle tabloids with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.

"Nothing at the moment, thank you," Y/N smiled, ignoring the way he looked down his nose at her. Let him think whatever he wants. She was long past the point of caring what other people thought of her. She had far more important things to occupy her mind.

Like this absolutely divine cup of espresso sitting before her.

She enhaled the heavenly aroma before taking a sip. "Mmm, caffeine, my friend," she mumbled, smirking at her own silliness.

The coffee hit her veins almost immediately. Y/N pulled the Weekly World News from the top of her pile and dug into her morning routine. She scanned the pages, snorting at a couple of the more ridiculous stories. She knew, just as much as any rational person (magical or not), that only the very gullible believed this nonsense.

Except... as she'd come to learn long ago, it wasn't all nonsense. In amongst all the batboys and alien love slaves there was hidden a sliver of truth. And if you knew what you were looking for, you'd find it.

~•~

George shuffled into the coffee shop. He hadn't had a decent night's rest in weeks. April 1 had only just passed, and May was barreling toward him like a rogue bludger. As it did every year since the war.

"Morning, Mr. Weasley."

The redhead pasted on a smile. "How are ya, Albert?" He greeted the barista.

"Oh, fine, fine," Albert grinned. "What'll you have?"

"The usual," George leaned over to look at the pastries. "And a cherry danish."

The barista nodded. "Comin' right up."

"Thanks," the redhead sighed. He didn't particularly like cherry danishes, but Fred loved them. Every year he was gone, his lost twin seemed to drift further and further away from him. George hoped the pastry, as small a thing as it was, would bring a little of Fred back to him.

He turned around to take in the busy cafe, debating whether to eat here or take his meager breakfast back to the shop when he spotted a familiar face. George's heart skipped a beat. Could it be? After all this time? It was a face that once lit up his life, that he once loved to kiss, that he once sought out in every crowd.

And, admittedly, still did.

Y/N Y/L/N. Beautiful, funny, intelligent, and, once upon a time, his.

She was his first everything.

First best friend outside of Fred.

First crush.

First girlfriend.

First kiss.

And after the Yule Ball, his first lover.

He'd intended to propose to her once they'd graduated, but something happened in their seventh year. Maybe it was because of all the stress from everything that was happening then, or maybe they were just too immature, but they started drifting apart. Arguing more. Lots more. They soon realized that they were fighting more than not and decided to take a break and try going back to being friends.

And they did try. But everyone knows how those things go. By the time he and Fred made their dramatic exit from Hogwarts, they were barely speaking.

Not because they were angry. They just didn't know what to say to each other anymore. Everything had become weird.

After that, she visited the shop a few times. The last he saw her, she'd stopped by the store to say goodbye. She'd taken a new job and was moving to Italy.

He'd wished her well, kissed her cheek, and then she was gone.

"Here ya go, Mr. Weasley," Albert's cheerful voice shook George from his reverie. "That'll be three galleons even."

George paid and then made his way to her table. "Y/N?"

Y/N looked up, and the smile that spread across her face lit up the whole room. She saw the boy she once loved in the man standing before her. A boy she once thought she might've eventually married.

Her pulse quickened in spite of herself. "George!"

The years suddenly fell away, and without thinking, she stood to embrace him. He met her halfway, his long arms wrapping around her, pulling her in close.

~•~

"Believe it or not, I use them for work." She admitted when George asked about the stack of tabloids. "And, they're good for a few laughs."

George eyed the stack. "Looks like you need a lot of laughs."

Y/N shrugged. "Life hasn't always been kind."

"I know what you mean," George looked down. "My brother, my twin, Fred, you remember him? He, um, he ...

Six years on, and he still couldn't say the words.

She reached out and touched his hand. "I know. I-I heard. I'm so sorry, George." Y/N said. "I wanted to write, but I... " Words failed her.

"It's alright," he gave her a sad smile. "It's not like I was in any shape to read letters. Truthfully, I wasn't in shape to do much of anything for a while."

Y/N squeezed his hand. She didn't have any siblings, much less a twin. So, she could only imagine the pain he must've endured. "All the same, I should've..."

"No, love, please," he interrupted, taking her hand in both of his. "Don't torture yourself with 'should'ves.' Godric knows I've done enough of that these past few years. And it won't change the past. It only makes things... hurt more." George looked away for a few moments. When he turned back, his smile had returned. "So tell me about this job that requires you to read this crazy stuff." George nodded toward the tabloids.

~•~

"So, your telling me there are other worlds?" George looked incredulous. "And things sometimes travel here through holes in the... membrane between the worlds?"

Y/N nodded.

"And these tabloids occasionally report it."

"Surprisingly often, actually," Y/N grinned.

George opened his mouth, then closed it again. "What's your job in all this?" He said after a few moments. "Do you hunt down whatever comes through?"

"Oh, no," Y/N took a nibble from her cinnamon roll. "I'm a seamstress."

"A seamstress?" George was about to take a sip of coffee but froze at her words.

"I mend the holes," she clarified. "Sew them back together. With magic, of course."

George stared at her for several seconds before speaking again.

"So... um..." he began, still trying to wrap his brain around the whole concept. "Do these holes just appear randomly or what?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "Ok, so... there are three types of openings between the worlds. Holes, gateways, and rips. Holes are where reality got too thin, and things wander through, usually unintentionally. The second are gateways. A hole formed, and instead of repairing it, structures were built to allow easier passage and communication. These are heavily guarded and highly regulated." She paused to take a sip of her espresso. "And then there are rips," she continued. "This is when something decides it wants to get through right now. Damn the rules."

"Wow..." George leaned back in his chair. "What happens when something rips through?"

"There are people whose job is to, well, put things back where they belong."

George nodded, thoughtful. Then something occurred to him. "Why haven't I heard about this before?"

"Used to be top-secret," she shrugged. "Only the highest echelons of the government knew. But then a rip opened in the US president's oval office. No one was there at the time, thank Godric. But, long story short, word of our organization leaked, and then, after a fair bit of chaos, a bunch of stuff got declassified. Now here I am telling you about it."

"Oh, that's good then, you know, that things worked out, and you're, you know, here," George stammered. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," Y/N smiled, reaching for his hand again.

"So, um, how long are you back for?" George asked.

"Permanently."

George's face lit up. "Really?"

"Yep," Y/N smiled wide, matching his enthusiasm. "They're expanding the London headquarters. I'll be retiring from the field next month to head the new training program."

"That's fantastic!" George was practically bouncing in his seat. "I guess we'll be seeing more of each other then?"

"I certainly hope so."

~•~

That night, George poured himself a shot of whiskey as he always did after work. But rather than settling down for the night, he paced the apartment, trying to rid himself of his restless energy.

He'd been bouncing around the store all day like a giddy schoolgirl. It was a far cry from his usual fake smiles and general mopiness this time of year, and, of course, Ron noticed.

He finally cornered his older brother during the afternoon lull. "Mate, are you alright? You've been acting... odd." Ron looked genuinely worried.

George bristled at the question at first, but then he remembered the date.

Oh.

The reminder deflated him a little. "Yeah. Surprisingly, I am okay. I-I ran into Y/N at breakfast."

Ron blinked. Of all the things his brother might've said, that was the last thing he expected. "Y/N? Y/N Y/L/N?"

"The one and only."

"Ok, wow," Ron mused. "Haven't seen her in forever. How long's it been?"

"Too long," George said, walking back to the sales floor.

Ron eyed him warily. He'd lost count as to how many ill-fated whirlwind romances his brother had had since Fred's passing. He hoped this wouldn't lead to another one. "So, um, how is she?"

"She's great," George said. "Moving back to London, actually."

"Oh, yeah? So, I take it you guys are meeting up again?" Ron probed.

"Of course. We're meeting up in a couple of days to go apartment hunting."

Ron screeched to a halt. "You're WHAT?!"

George stopped, eyebrows scrunched together. "Apartment hunting... she's just moved back and needs a place to live. I know the area better than her and thought I'd help her out. W-was that wrong?" He finished, suddenly uncertain of himself.

His younger brother's shoulders relaxed. "No, no. Not at all. I just thought for a second you two were... you know... moving in together."

"What? No, it's nothing like that. Yet," George said, keeping the last bit silent.

"Well, that's good," Ron replied, relief evident in his voice. "Just... take it slow, ok? Get to know each other again before you jump into anything."

George only nodded.

~•~

A disgruntled rumble from his stomach alerted George that he hadn't eaten since lunch. He glanced out the window to the warm glow emanating from The Leaky Cauldron. Dinner out, he decided and grabbed his coat. Maybe a walk would do him good. And he could chat with the bartender while he ate.

George had never gotten used to being alone. Not for very long anyway. It was why he jumped from one woman to the next. Anything to keep his loneliness at bay.

Most of them were friends with benefits, though there was the occasional girlfriend here and there. But in the end, he ended up feeling lonelier with them than without. And so he'd move on to the next one, endlessly searching for that deep, soulful connection.

Like he'd had with Fred.

Like he'd had with Y/N.

George froze mid-step, a thought suddenly occurring to him. Maybe the reason he'd never had a successful relationship was because somewhere in the dark crevices of his heart, he was still holding out for the one he'd never stopped loving.

He was holding out for Y/N.

~•~

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#george weasley #season of love event #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you

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lumosandnoxwriting · 24 days

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Never Let Go || George Weasley

Title: Never Let Go Pairing: George x Reader Summary: Turns out building a family isn’t as easy as George thought it would be. A/N: part 2 to dad!george x nanny!reader! Though it’s not so much nanny!reader anymore as it’s more like stepmom!reader but whatever! Hope you guys enjoy and feedback is always welcome/appreciated! <3

It’s no surprise that George finds them in the backyard.

Summer is finally in full swing in the UK, and he knows Y/N likes to have Remi out in the fresh air as much as possible. The almost two year old has them on their toes, and spending the day out in the garden, running through the grass seems to be the only way to ensure Remi falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow. And George really does mean an actual pillow, since they recently upgraded the crib in her room to a toddler bed.

He has no idea where the time has gone.

He had hoped to sneak up on them, considering the fact that it’s the middle of the day on Tuesday and he’s supposed to be at work. But when he steps out onto the back porch he isn’t met with the sight of Y/N and Remi kicking a ball back and forth or blowing bubbles. No, the scene he walks in on is much more precious.

Y/N is laying in the hammock, one foot on the ground to slowly rock it back and forth while Remi lays on top of her chest, fast asleep. They’ve got matching white sundresses on, a gift for Mother’s Day from Molly. He figures Y/N is asleep too, but when the deck stairs creak under his weight her eyes open and a bright grin takes over her face.

“George,” she breathes, voice quiet so as to not wake their toddler. “You’re home early.”

“I missed my girls and I’ve been jealous of all the fun you two have been having together,” George explains as he approaches. “Besides, Fred has been having so much fun torturing the interns he won’t even notice that I’m gone.”

Y/N giggles and pats the empty netting beside her. “Here, come join us.” When George gives Remi a weary glance, she waves away his concerns. “She’s out cold and probably will be for another hour, Sandra next door’s St. Bernard chased her around the yard for over an hour this morning.”

George rounds the hammock, carefully easing himself down next to the girls so he doesn’t flip them. He lays down on his side facing Y/N, propping his head up with one hand while the other rests on Remi’s bum, just below where Y/N’s own hand is. He leans in and kisses his daughter’s messy curls, before placing one on his girlfriend’s temple.

He can’t believe that it’s been almost eighteen months since that day at the brownstone, when he opened up his front door to meet his new nanny only to fall head over heels in love with her instead. It’s hard to believe how much has changed in such a short time.

For starters he sold that stupid brownstone that he loved so much. As Remi got older it was clear his bachelor pad was not easily converted into a family home, and the pathetic stretch of grass he called a back yard was insufficient for his sweet summer child who loved running barefoot in the grass. Plus with Y/N in their lives, the possibility of someday growing their family was always in the back of George’s mind and a London townhome was barely big enough for the three of them.

So with a great return on his investment and a little dipping into his savings, George was able to buy a large family home in one of the uppity neighborhoods on the outskirts of London. Sure his commute every day is hell, but they’ve got a backyard big enough for them to add a dog or two, the best schools in the country are just a short walk away, and there’s plenty of room in case they decide to add to their family one day.

Which is something George hopes happens soon, one of the biggest changes that has happened since Y/N came into their lives. Before Remi George had a hard time imagining himself settling down, getting married and having some kids, and whenever he did it was far into the future by at least ten years. Once Remi was dropped into his lap that outlook had changed, but he always figured it would be just him and his daughter, something he was totally okay with.

Falling in love with Y/N totally changed all of those plans.

He didn’t want a life that was just him and Remi. He wanted one that included Y/N and the love and light she brings with her, with as many kids as she wants to give him. And he didn’t want that life years from now anymore, he wanted it as soon as she would allow him to stick a ring on her finger.

Hence the diamond ring tucked away in the safe at work. George doesn’t think she’s quite there yet, but as soon as she is he’ll be down on one knee and making her his wife.

But by far the biggest change that’s happened is the fact that he no longer has a nanny. Because now Y/N is a stay at home mum. So far that change has certainly been the most difficult, and it’s all thanks to the stubborn girl laying next to him.

Once their relationship became romantic George knew Y/N could no longer be his nanny. Simply for the fact that it felt wrong to hand her a paycheck on Friday morning only to have her underneath him in bed that night. Besides, once that line had been crossed they both considered Remi to be their daughter, not just George’s and he certainly wouldn’t pay his wife or the mother of his child to take care of them.

So he had proposed two possible paths to Y/N.

The first being that he would stop paying her to watch Remi, and in turn George would take over all financial responsibility in their home. His money would become their money, and George would take care of all of their bills while she stayed at home and took care of the house and Remi.

Y/N had flat out told him no. Which aggravated him and made him fall even more in love with her. But George had understood her response once she had explained that of course she considers Remi her daughter, the fact of the matter is she really isn’t Remi’s mum, and she’d feel weird taking on a role without having felt like she really earned it. Which George thought was total bullshit, he understood her point of view, but he thought it was bullshit.

Which led him to propose the second path. Y/N would no longer be Remi’s nanny, giving her the ability to seek a new, day time position with another family. She of course would still live at home with them, and George would find a new nanny to look after Remi during the day while they were both at work.

He figured that would be the perfect solution. Y/N would still be making her own money while getting to be with him and Remi, Remi would have still have that one on one care George wanted for her and he no longer had to pay his girlfriend to hang out with their kid.

Except her response to this proposition was the same as the first. Hell no.

Which had pissed George off to no end. He was trying to find a solution that would make their family work and keep all of them happy, and his sweet, stubborn girl shot him down. Twice. His anger had abated when during one of their arguments Y/N explained that the thought of another woman being in their home taking care of their daughter made her absolutely sick to her stomach. Because how the fuck could George be mad at her for being jealous at the thought of someone else being with Remi.

So for months George kept signing Y/N’s paychecks and they kept fighting about how best to handle things moving forward. And George uses the term fighting very loosely, considering the fact it was more him trying to convince Y/N to let him take care of her and her saying no.

It wasn’t until they moved into the new house, and their neighbor Sandra slapped George across the face and yelled about him being a dirty cheater, did they finally come to an agreement.

Because when Y/N took Remi to the park down the road she’d introduced herself as Remi’s nanny to the neighborhood moms and nannies that were there with their kids. Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem, except for the fact that they started to notice that when Remi called her Mama she never corrected her, and on the weekends it was always George and “the nanny” taking Remi to the park together and they always seemed to be so close.

So when Sandra saw them kiss in the driveway before George went off to work it seemed to confirm the neighborhood gossip that had been going around for weeks: George Weasley was screwing his nanny and was going to replace Remi’s biological mother with her.

Which explains why Sandra, a woman George had barely spoken to at that point, assaulted and confronted him on his own property. Thankfully Y/N had been able to calm Sandra down, and after awkwardly explaining to her that Y/N was both Remi’s nanny and George’s girlfriend and that there was no other woman involved, the rumor mill dried up and everything went back to normal.

But Y/N felt so terrible that she agreed to quit her job as Remi’s nanny, with the stipulation that George let her work a job that still allowed her to be home with their little girl during the day. So now she works for a few families in the neighborhood as a nanny part time, that way whether she’s working or not Y/N is still Remi’s full time caretaker and she can contribute to the house with her own money.

“Whatcha thinking about?” YN murmurs after they’ve been sitting in silence for a bit.

“You, Remi, life,” George answers simply.

“I can’t believe she’s almost two,” Y/N says wistfully, slowly rubbing Remi’s back. “I feel like just yesterday she was learning to crawl and asking for more juice by throwing her empty sippy cup at me,” she pauses as they both laugh. “Now she runs circles around me and says please and thank you.”

“It’s hard to believe that she used to be that tiny, fragile baby I found on my doorstep.”

Y/N stiffens next to him, just like she always does whenever Remi’s biological mother or how Remi came to be in George’s life is mentioned. She’s never even met the woman, but Y/N feels nothing but hatred towards her purely because of how carelessly she abandoned her little girl. There’s also a little jealousy there too, because as Remi gets older it is apparent that looks wise, she takes after the woman who provided the other half of her DNA, giving Remi a connection to her that Y/N will never have. She will love Remi with her whole heart until the moment she takes her last breath, but she will never be the woman that gave her life.

“Even though I hate the way she came into your life,” Y/N starts, tilting her head back so she can look up at George. “I’m really fucking glad she did.”

“Me too, baby,” George agrees, leaning in to kiss Y/N softly. “Me too.”

“What are the ethical and legal implications for fucking an intern?” Fred asks suddenly, making all of the men groan. “Hypothetically, of course.”

Every month the Weasley brothers get together for a guys night. They play poker, drink beer and just catch up with each other. They’re at Bill’s tonight, in a shed out in the garden that he converted into a man cave. It’s a full house tonight, with George, Fred, Ron, Bill, Charlie and Ginny’s fiancé Harry all in attendance, and all of them are looking at Fred with disappointment.

“Fred, you shouldn’t have fucked an intern,” Bill scolds, forever the responsible eldest brother.

“Hey, I never said I did. I said hypothetically speaking,” Fred points out. “And I’m a little hurt by all of the judgment boys. Georgie over here fucked his employee and all of you congratulated him. Not fair.”

George rolls his eyes, taking a sip from his beer. “First of all, fuck face, if you talk about my future wife like that ever again I’ll knock you on your ass. Second of all, what happened with Y/N and I is completely different than whatever you plan on doing with one of our interns.”

“Oh please brother, enlighten me,” Fred snaps.

“Well for one I’m not nearly a decade older than her,” George responds, narrowing his eyes as he glares at his brother. “Not to mention the second things turned romantic I tried to fire her, not my fault Y/N is the most stubborn woman on the planet. Any intern you hump and dump will still be our employee for at least two more months. And fraternization in that manner can certainly be construed as sexual harassment, which could end in a horrible, very public lawsuit that will ruin the company we worked so hard to build. Me kissing Y/N ended in a very happy, healthy, romantic relationship. We are not the same.”

Fred is silent for a few moments, and George is almost certain he’s gotten through to his twin. Until the other man opens his mouth.

“So what you’re saying is I should wait until August, once their internship has ended, to fuck them?”

“I need another fucking drink,” George grumbles, pushing away from the table before he heads towards the little bar Bill has set up in the corner. He drowns out the conversation Ron has started, since it’s mainly focused on which intern Fred has his eye on, so he’s surprised when Bill slides up next to him.

“Hey. I’ve got that number you asked Fleur for,” Bill murmurs, holding out a piece of paper for George to take.

He gives it a quick glance, noting it’s nothing but a phone number, no name or identifying information, before he slips it into his pocket. “Thanks man, I appreciate it.” Both the number Bill has given him and his discretion in how he chose to give it to him.

Because George isn’t one hundred percent certain what he’s doing is legal, and the less people that know about it the better.

It feels kind of silly, scolding Fred about ethics and legal ramifications when George finds himself in a similar position, but his motivation has nothing to do with getting his dick wet, so he feels like his pursuit is at least a little justified.

Six months ago he had his lawyer start looking into what’s legally required for Y/N to be able to adopt Remi once they get married. He knows it kills her that the only claim she has to Remi is the one in her heart and George wants to make sure that she has the legal rights to their daughter as well.

Unfortunately for George, the answer was far from simple. Because when Emily, Remi’s biological mother, dropped her on his doorstep there was no documentation that she was officially terminating her rights. Meaning that even though George has been her sole legal guardian for nearly 24 months at any moment in time Emily can reappear, demand custody and have it granted. It also means that Y/N can’t legally become Remi’s mother.

His lawyer had spent a few months trying to dig up any information, in the hopes that Emily had filed the paperwork to terminate her rights and they just didn’t know about it. When that search turned up empty their focus pivoted, and George had his attorney find out how to contact Emily, hoping that they could get her to agree to meet and come in to sign her rights away.

But so far every attempt has failed. Either the numbers his lawyer finds are out of service or no one returns their call. Places of employment claim to have no employees under that name and every address is outdated. It’s been months since their search began and they still have nothing.

Luckily for George his sister-in-law knows some interesting people. He doesn’t want or need to know why Fleur has the number for a private investigator who has a knack for hacking, he’s just thankful that she does.

Because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his family.

But the blurred lines between right and wrong keep him from telling Y/N about the information Bill passed along to him when she asks him how boy’s night went as he slips into bed beside her that night. That way if this all ends up blowing up in his face George will be the only one hurt in the process.

At least he hopes.

The little family Y/N pulled together started on an unsuspecting Monday morning.

So it makes sense that it all starts to fall apart on one too.

“What did you forget this time?” Y/N teases as she pulls open the front door. George only left for work a few minutes ago, and after a weekend at home with their family it’s pretty typical for him to get on the road only to have to turn around to retrieve something he forgot. But the smile fades from her face when she realizes George isn’t the one who rang the bell, but a beautiful brunette woman.

A beautiful brunette woman who has soft curls falling down her back and a face shape that she would recognize anywhere considering the fact that she presses a kiss to that same arched brow every single night.

Nope, Remi’s Father is not standing on the porch - her Mother is.

The woman, Emily, smiles at Y/N either oblivious to the distress on her face or she simply does not care enough to react to it. “Is George home?”

“N-no,” Y/N stutters out, too stunned to say anything else. “He’s at work.”

Emily shakes her head, looking Y/N up and down in a way that’s anything but friendly. “Ah, you must be the nanny then.”

The way she says nanny creates a pit in Y/N’s stomach, and it takes all of her strength not to flinch. Because how fucking dare this woman who abandoned her child show up years later and be anything but thankful and appreciative for the woman who picked up her slack.

“Is there something I can help you with, Emily?” she asks after taking a moment to compose herself.

Because as much as she wants to give this woman a piece of her mind, Remi is just in the other room, and she has to keep her head on straight to make sure no harm comes to her daughter. No matter what this horrid woman thinks of Y/N, Remi is hers, and she’d do anything to keep that little girl safe.

If Emily is surprised to be recognized it doesn’t show on her face. She pulls a card out of her pocket, offering it to Y/N. “No, George will know why I was here. Have him give me a call.”

Y/N isn’t in control of her body as she reaches a shaky hand out and takes the proffered card, her mind numb. She watches as Emily turns on her heel and walks away without a care in the world. Like she didn’t just blow up Y/N’s life.

Because why the hell would George know why Emily came by the house?

And why the fuck doesn’t she?

George knows something is wrong the second he walks through the door that night.

Usually the house is filled with noise, Y/N almost always has music playing in the background as she cooks dinner and the sounds of her and Remi laughing echoes off the walls. But tonight when he swings the door open, his mouth opening to shout a greeting he’s met with dead silence.

He’s immediately on edge, worried something has happened to his girls.

“Y/N?” he calls out, voice frantic. “Where are you?”

He searches the bottom floor, switching between calling out for Y/N and Remi, his anxiety heightening each time he goes unanswered. His palms are sweating and he feels like he’s on the verge of a panic attack when he heads upstairs, his body moving without really being aware of where it’s going.

All George knows is that something is wrong and he needs to find Y/N and Remi before he loses his mind.

Finally he swings open Remi’s bedroom door and he takes his first deep breath in what feels like hours. Because Y/N is standing there, her back to the door as she gazes out the window. Her shoulders stiffen, so George knows she’s aware of his presence, but she doesn’t turn when he murmurs her name. It’s then that he finally notices a lack of their daughter, and the packed duffle bag sitting on the floor next to Y/N.

“Where’s Remi?”

“At Bill and Fleur’s,” Y/N answers, her voice flat as she still refuses to look at George.

Her lack of emotion and just general shitty behavior does nothing but piss George off, which is why his words come out sharper than he intends them to. “Y/N what the fuck is going on?”

She finally turns to look at George then, and her appearance has him stifling a gasp. While no tears fall from her eyes, they’re rimmed with red and slightly puffy - a tell-tale sign that she’s spent a good chunk of the day crying. Her body is stiff, her arms crossed like she needs to protect herself. And her eyes, those eyes that George loves so much, are filled with one emotion: betrayal.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

That isn’t what George expected her to say, and he feels a little lame that he doesn’t immediately have a response.

“Maybe you can start by telling me why the fuck, Emily showed up at our house today looking for you, and when I said you weren’t home she just left her number, claiming that you would know exactly why she was here.”

Oh fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

George’s stomach is in knots and he feels like he’s going to throw up. He should have told Y/N that he was looking for Emily, he feels like such an idiot for keeping that from her. His lawyer has called several of her friends and family members to try and get a hold of her, of course one of them was sure to tell Emily George was looking for her. So it really isn’t a surprise that she decided to track him down instead.

Well at least, not a surprise to him. And why should Y/N have been expecting Emily to show up at their door after no contact for almost two years? He really, really fucked up.

“Baby, wait, it’s not what it looks like,” George starts to explain, taking a step towards her.

But Y/N takes a step back, holding up her hand to cut him off. “Really? Because it looks like you went behind my back and sought out the biological mother of the child you claim to be ours, after she abandoned her on a front porch no less.”

Fuck, it sounds even worse when she puts it like that.

“Please, just let me explain,” George pleads.

But Y/N just shakes her head. “The time for you to explain would have been before any of this shit started.” She picks her bag up and tears start to well in her eyes. “I need a second George, to think about things. To think about what Emily being back around means for me and us and this family. Fleur and Bill are going to keep Remi for tonight, and Sandra agreed to watch her while you’re at work for the next few days.”

As she walks out of the room Y/N pauses next to George. “Emily’s number is on the counter in the kitchen. You better have a damn good reason for needing it.”

George stands there alone in the middle of Remi’s bedroom until he hears the front door click shut behind Y/N. It’s only when he’s sure he’s alone does he allow himself to break down: tears rolling down his cheeks as he falls to his knees.

He thought keeping this secret was going to ensure Y/N felt secure in their family, but now it looks like he may have lost her for good.

Y/N plasters a fake smile on her face, not needing all of their friends and family to know how torn up her insides are. Because of course, the weekend after George’s betrayal is Remi’s second birthday, and despite the fact that they’re still not speaking and she’s still not sure where her place in their family is anymore Y/N will always show up for Remi. She’s already had one mother walk out, and Y/N is not about to be another. Emily’s reappearance be damned Y/N loves that little girl, and she’ll happily suffer in silence if it keeps a smile on her daughter’s face.

Despite George’s best efforts, she’s managed to stay away from him so far. Of course they need to have a conversation about what happened, but the middle of their backyard while celebrating their daughter’s birthday is not the time or the place. So she’s kept close to Remi, reveling in the feel of holding her tiny hand as the toddler dragged her around the yard to all of the different activities they have set up.

She’s standing outside the bounce house, watching Remi tumble around with her friends and her Uncle Fred, chatting with one of the Mum’s when she feels his presence behind her. The warmth of his body seeps into her skin, and Y/N’s eyes flutter shut as the scent of his cologne washes over her. Despite all of her hurt and her anger this week without George has been torture, and she’s afraid to admit how good it feels to be near him again.

“Hi,” he greets, leaning in to murmur in her ear. “I’m really fucking happy to see you. I was afraid you weren’t going to show up.”

The other Mum gives her a cheeky wink before wandering off, clearly thinking Y/N and George are reconnecting during a quiet moment of a hectic day. Her stomach drops, both in fear and excitement.

“It’s our daughter’s birthday, George,” Y/N responds once she’s composed herself, eyes reopening as she takes a deep breath. “If you think I’d miss it just because I’m pissed at you, you don’t know anything about me. I’m not Emily.”

Regret slaps George in the face, and he kicks himself for being so stupid. He hasn’t been able to think straight since Monday night, when he came home and his whole world fell apart. Life without Y/N is bleak, and if it weren’t for the little girl giggling wildly as she has fun with her friends, George is sure he would have given up by now.

“I’m sorry, I’m such a fucking idiot,” he apologizes, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Remi hasn’t been sleeping at night because she misses you and I haven’t been sleeping at night because I miss you and I feel so fucking terrible about everything and I can barely breathe let alone think straight.”

He pauses, taking a second to get his shit together.

“Of course I knew you would show up today, your love for Remi has always come first. That’s what I love most about you, how fiercely you love the people you care about.”

Y/N simply nods, to over run with emotion to trust her voice to come out clear and even. Knowing that Remi has been struggling during this time absolutely kills her, and she hates that she has brought her even an ounce of pain. But at least she’s young, and if this really is it for this relationship, Remi will never remember Y/N and the love and loss her brief stint in her life caused.

That’s a thought Y/N has had many times over this past week, and it’s just as heart wrenching to think about as it was the first time. Remi will never remember Y/N, but she’ll spend the rest of her life loving and missing that little girl.

“Can we talk tonight?” George pleads. “I want to explain everything to you, like I should have done on Monday. Or rather even before that night. And if you still want to walk away from this relationship after that I will let you go. But please know that you will always be a part of Remi’s life, whether you and I are together or not. Remi may have come from Emily, but you are her Mother and you always will be.”

George walks away then, and Y/N furiously wipes at the tears leaking down her cheeks before anyone has the chance to notice.

Y/N decides to hear George out.

Because even though her heart is hurting and she feels like her trust has been broken, just being in his presence today has made her feel the most normal she has all week. Being by his side while they held Remi and everyone gathered around to sing her happy birthday just felt right, like she was just where she was supposed to be. There is no doubt in her mind that George is the love of her life, and Y/N knows deep down that she’ll always regret not fighting for their relationship. And when George had assured her that no matter their relationship status Y/N would always be in Remi’s life, she figured she had nothing to lose by sitting down and hearing George’s side of things.

Plus, sticking around until the last partygoers made their way out means she gets to put Remi to bed for the first time in almost a week.

Which is where she is now, laying on her side in Remi’s bed with the little girl snuggled up against her. They’ve just finished reading her favorite book ‘I love you to the moon and back’ and now Y/N is slowly stroking her soft curls as she watches Remi’s eyes flutter open and closed and she fights off sleep.

“Mama miss me?” Remi’s sweet voice mumbles, and it makes Y/N’s heart break.

She leans in, pressing her lips against Remi’s forehead. “Mama missed you so much, baby.”

“Miss Mama,” Remi agrees, her lips smacking together as she tries to stay awake. “Love you Mama.”

“I love you too, Rem-Dog. More than you’ll ever know,” Y/N promises. That reassurance must make Remi feel safe enough to fall asleep, and Y/N watches as her eyes finally flutter closed and once her daughter’s breaths have evened out she presses one more kiss to Remi’s forehead before extracting herself from the bed.

“Goodnight, baby,” she murmurs, taking a second to tuck the covers tightly over Remi’s body. She heads towards the door, taking one more look over her shoulder before she closes it behind her. Taking a deep breath Y/N steals herself, preparing for whatever conversation is awaiting her downstairs.

George nearly jumps out of his seat when Y/N comes down the stairs, furiously wiping the sweat from his palms on his trousers. He gestures towards the seat across from him, giving her a small smile. “Sit, please.”

Once she’s seated across from him George sits down too, awkwardly fidgeting in his chair. He crosses and uncrosses his legs several times, his hands wringing together as he tries to figure out where to start.

“Thank you for staying and agreeing to hear me out.”

Y/N gives a curt nod. “I’m not making any promises here, George. But I at least owe it to myself and our family to sit here and listen to what you have to say.”

She watches as George grabs a thick manilla envelope off the chair next to him, waiting with bated breath as he slides a document out of it. He places it on the table, slowly sliding it towards her so that she can see what it is.

Y/N takes a moment to read, her eyes scanning the words over and over again so there’s no doubt in her mind what she’s looking at. As the information soaks in, tears start to form in the corners of her eyes, and she presses a hand to her trembling lips.

“George these are,” she starts, eyes finally flicking up to meet him.

“Adoption papers,” George confirms with a nod. “I told you earlier that no matter what happens between us you’ll always be Remi’s Mum, so I figured this would be a good place to start. That way once this conversation is done you can be free to feel however you want to feel, and not make a decision based on your love for Remi. I love you, Y/N, and I want us to be a family. But I understand that you might not feel that way anymore. So all you have to do is sign on the places that are marked, I already did, file these with the court and Remi will legally be yours too.”

“George, I,” Y/N stumbles, unable to find the words. This is the last thing she imagined George would say to her. And she knows now that whatever awful things she thought George was doing behind her back were nothing more than her insecurities speaking out.

When Emily showed up on their porch it surprised Y/N to her core, and all of those negative thoughts she’s had about feeling like she could never measure up to Remi’s biological mother came rushing back to the forefront of her mind; only made worse by the fact that George had seemingly been trying to get in contact with Emily behind her back.

But sitting here, now, with George offering her a permanent place in Remi’s life even if she doesn’t want one in his - she knows. She knows that this is all just some stupid misunderstanding and she nearly let the best thing that’s ever happened to her slip away.

“What about Emily?” Y/N asks, voice shaking. “I mean, isn’t she technically still Remi’s Mother like, legally?” she clarifies. She remembers when they had to register Remi at their new pediatrician after they moved, and they needed her birth certificate for her file. Y/N had noticed that Emily was still listed there, and when she googled what that meant that night, she found out it meant Emily hadn’t ever signed her rights away, so she still, legally, had a claim to their daughter.

“She signed her rights away,” George explains, a small smile forming on his face when Y/N’s jaw drops. “That’s why she showed up that day. My lawyer has been trying to hunt her down for months, and she must have heard I was looking for her.”

“And she signed them away?” Y/N asks, still in disbelief. “Just like that?”

George nods before launching into the story of what happened.

“You’re a hard woman to track down,” Martin, George’s attorney, jokes as Emily and her attorney take seats at the conference table across from them. But the smile is wiped from his face when George gives him a glare.

This is not the time for joking. He’s barely been functioning since Y/N walked out two nights ago, and he just wants to get this shit over with so he can come clean to her and get on his knees to beg for forgiveness. And at least with Emily out of the way, even if Y/N doesn’t want to take him back she can still adopt Remi. He will deal with shared custody and watching Y/N fall in love with someone else as long as it means his girls are together and happy.

“That’s what happens when you don’t want to be found,” Emily replies dryly. Her eyes finally and on George and the smirk that appears on her face makes his stomach turn. “Weasley, long time no see.”

George huffs. “Can we just cut the shit and get this over with? I’d like to get home to my daughter.”

He can’t help but notice that Emily doesn’t react to him claiming Remi as only his, and it just solidifies that going through all this shit was a good decision. Clearly this woman doesn’t give a shit about the little girl they created together, because if he had said something like that in front of Y/N she would have slapped him upside the head and made him sleep on the couch for a week.

“I’m sure she’s doing just fine with the nanny.” Emily’s voice drips with condescension, and it pisses George off even more.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” he seethes. “Y/N is not Remi’s nanny, she’s her mother. And she’s a damn good one, which is something you know nothing about, so I’m not going to let you sit here and talk shit about the woman who has stepped up and done what you never had the balls to do.”

The room is silent, George’s words echoing around the room until Emily’s attorney clears his throat.

“Well now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he drawls. “Why are me and my client here?”

“Oh, right.” Martin grabs the manilla envelope sitting on the table, drawing a document out of it. He hands it to Emily’s attorney, giving him a moment to look it over before he speaks again. “We’d like for Emily to relinquish her rights to Remi. It’s been nearly two years since she abandoned the infant, and George would like for his partner to formally adopt their daughter.”

Every second Emily is silent makes George’s stomach sink further and further, and he can feel the bite of his nails digging into his palm from how hard his fists are clenched. Martin had assured George that even if Emily refuses to sign her rights away there were other ways to have them terminated, but it would be a lengthy process. Which George would absolutely not hesitate to pursue, but he wants this done as quickly as possible, which hinges on this right now going the way he wants.

“So I just sign and that’s it? The baby isn’t mine anymore?” Emily finally asks after she’s read the document.

Martin nods in confirmation. “Precisely. If you sign that today I’ll have it filed with the court this afternoon, and you will no longer have any legal rights or ties to Remi.”

“All right, do you have a pen?”

Not even a second of hesitation. The second her attorney puts a pen in her hand Emily is signing, double checking to make sure she hasn’t missed a spot. As soon as she’s satisfied that everything has been taken care of Emily slides the papers back over to Martin, and George feels as if a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. Emily is finally out of the way, and he and Y/N are free to be a family in every way possible.

As long as she still wants him, that is. That part of the plan is still up in the air.

“So, yeah. That was that,” George trails off as his story comes to an end. He sits back in his chair, just watching Y/N as she takes everything in. There’s a few different emotions flitting across their face, but they’re gone before George can tell what they are. Her eyes look at everything in the room except for his face, and he can’t tell if that’s a good sign or not.

“She just signed them away? Just like that?” Y/N finally says, her voice thick with emotion.

“Yep. We were ready to file a lawsuit for abandonment to have them involuntarily terminated but she just picked up a pen and signed them away.”

Y/N shakes her head. “Wow. Fuck her.”

George can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I was pissed at first too, because Remi is fucking amazing and how dare her Mum not realize that and fight to be in her life. But then I realized it doesn’t matter, because Emily isn’t Remi’s Mum and never has been. From the second you walked into our lives you have been her Mum, and the reason why she’s such an amazing little girl is because of you and the love and attention you have shown her. It doesn’t matter that Emily gave Remi half of her DNA, you’ve given Remi everything a real Mother should and that’s what matters.”

She doesn’t even know she’s crying until a few tears drip off of her chin, and Y/N works to quickly wipe them away. Everything George has said just erased every single doubt she’s ever had in her mind. Y/N always felt like Remi and Emily would have some kind of bond due to the fact that they share DNA, but hearing George just now and knowing Emily signed her rights away as if it were nothing proves that it’s all bullshit.

The only woman Remi will ever have that bond with is Y/N, and it has nothing to do with blood.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were looking for Emily, George?” Y/N finally asks. “I would have understood and supported you.”

“Because I’m a fucking idiot, for one,” George admits honestly. “When I first talked to Martin about the steps it would take for you to legally adopt Remi I wanted it to be a surprise. I bought a ring and had this whole plan to ask you to officially be a part of this family. But when we found out that Emily hadn’t signed away her rights I decided to keep it to myself. I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it wasn’t going to go the way we wanted it to.”

Y/N nods that she understands to encourage George to keep going. It’s actually kind of sweet that George had put so much thought into this whole thing, and she understands why he didn’t say anything. Clearly George was aware of the sore spot Y/N had regarding Emily, and she kind of loves him a bit more for trying to be sensitive to that.

“And then Martin’s search for her was going to shit. Every address we had was old or wrong, every phone number was out of service. Any employer we talked to just said she didn’t work there and any friends or family would ignore us. I was kind of starting to get a little desperate,” he admits sheepishly, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “So I talked to Fleur and got the contact information for a guy with a, um, special set of skills.”

That gets Y/N curious. “What kind of skills?”

“Hacking, mostly,” George mumbles. “And I wasn’t one hundred percent sure that whatever he was going to do was totally legal, and I figured the less you knew about that the better. If it was all going to go to shit we both couldn’t be in jail. Remi would be left to Fred and we all know how that would end up.”

Once it’s clear George has said everything he needs to Y/N takes a deep breath, taking a second to just let everything sink in. Obviously George made a few mistakes in the way he went about things, she can’t deny how full her heart feels at his gestures. And it’s clear he feels absolutely terrible about how things came about and he regrets not being honest with her.

“That was really the only reason why you didn’t tell me you were looking for Emily? Because it was supposed to be a surprise and you didn’t want me to know about your potentially illegal activities?”

“I swear,” George promises, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m so sorry I kept it from you and I hurt you. I didn’t mean for that to happen and if I could go back and do things differently I would.”

Y/N nods in understanding. She brushes her fingers over the adoption papers, tapping them twice. “And no matter what happens between us you’ll let me sign these papers and legally become Remi’s Mum?”

“Of course. You’re her Mama, and I know how much you love her and she loves you just the same. We can go to court to figure out custody or we can just do it between us, whatever you want. But I will never stop you from being a part of our daughter’s life.”

“Well, I think I’ve heard everything I need to.” Y/N pushes away from the table, biting her lip to keep from grinning at the dejected look on George’s face. She stands, but instead of heading towards the door like he thinks, Y/N rounds the table, plopping herself right down into his lap.

“You got your chance to speak,” she starts, putting a finger to George’s lips to keep him from saying anything. “And now it’s my turn. I’m sorry too, for acting the way I did that night. Emily showing up shocked me, and brought all of these insecurities and negative thoughts to the forefront of my mind and I went spiraling down this dark path. I knew that there was a rational explanation for Emily being on our porch and I didn’t give you a chance to explain things. For that I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” George responds once she lets him speak. “But just know I’m only saying that to appease you and not because I really think you owe me an apology.” Y/N finally breaks out into a full smile, and George feels the happiest he has all week.

“And you’ll never go behind my back ever again?”

“Never,” George answers honestly, his voice firm.

Before George has the opportunity to realize what’s happening Y/N leans in, pressing their lips together and pouring every emotion she’s felt over their separation into their kiss. George wraps his arms around her waist, absorbing every bit of hurt, pain, anger, longing and love she passes off to him. Even when their kiss breaks he keeps her pressed tightly to his chest, silently telling her that he plans on never letting go again.

“So,” Y/N starts, her voice teasing. “What’s that you said about buying a ring?”

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #George Weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfic #harry potter #Harry Potter au #gw #golden

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iiwontgiveuponmilkk · 6 months

Text

Her Curse. His Blessing. | F.W.

summary: she lives with a curse, never able to touch anyone without gloves. fred walks into her life one day and she finally lets someone in. a horrible prophecy makes her realize he will be her worst curse or her biggest blessing

word count: 3906

warnings: mentions of death, fluff

notes: i think this is the last update, but maybe not

Living with her curse was never easy, but it was easier when she was alone. She had felt alone her whole life, never being able to touch anyone. After finishing her studies at Beauxbatons, she left Southern France for London to open a small shop. Owning a small bookshop in Diagon Alley seemed like it would bring her in contact with more people than she would like, but it didn’t. She had spent most of her life collecting books, old grimoires that she hoped would hold the answers she was looking for. She sold many of these books in her shop, the ones that wouldn’t cause any harm if they fell into the wrong witch or wizard's hands. The basement of the shop held an enchanted chest, one that held the grimoires that should not be in circulation. She had even destroyed a few. Despite her massive collection, she could never find any answers. Out of the thousands of books she had come across in her life, she never found anything to point her in the direction of removing her curse. She had tried countless spells and potions, all of them yielding the same result. Nothing ever changed. She only ever found one useful piece of information. It was the only bright side to her curse. A small piece of hope in a dreadful situation, yet she never wished for the situation to arise. She wasn’t sure what consequences such magic could hold. Besides antique spell books, she sold everything one could need for divination. She offered readings of tea leaves as well, as she was a gifted seer herself. Her life of solitude, though, had taken a turn when a joke shop opened a few months after her own little shop opened. The joke shop brought in some extra customers, usually parents who had brought their young witches and wizards to Diagon Alley. One of the twins had caught her eye though, the first day she saw him. She could easily tell him from his twin. His face was slightly rounder, his nose straighter than his twins. She was kind to the twins who ran the shop next to hers, they all lived and worked next to each other. She enjoyed the small interactions she had with both of them. She seemed to run into Fred more than George. He always seemed to make her laugh when she was least expecting it.

It wasn’t until one twin walked into her store to finally introduce himself that things began to change for her. She heard the soft jingle of the bell and began meandering through the rows of bookshelves to the front of the shop. That’s when she saw him, just standing there taking in her shop. His eyes slowly drifted to her, a smile gracing his lips. “Hi, I’m-” He was cut off by her. “Fred Weasley.” She smiled. He felt as if the world had come to a halt when he heard her voice. Her accent sounded like Fleur’s, but so very enchanting. She took his hand as he stuck it out to her. It was then that he noticed that gloves were still adorning her dainty hands, even inside the warmth of her shop. He had noticed she always wore gloves when she was outside, but it had been cold lately. It would start snowing any day now, most everyone was bundled up when they were out and about. She smiled at him, beginning to introduce herself. He almost butted in with her name, but loved hearing it roll off her tongue. He tried to repeat her name, enunciating the same way she had, causing her to giggle. “Now, Fred, to what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked, giving him a shy smile. “Just wanted to see my favourite neighbour.” He grinned as she wrinkled her nose at him, trying to hide a small blush.

After his first stop at her shop, Fred started to make it a point to wander over to her shop as she was closing up. Their brief conversations lead to having tea and just talking for hours. He made it his mission to make her laugh, the sound like music to his ears. Stopping in to see her soon became a daily habit. She quickly started to look forward to Fred stopping in every day. She often found herself counting down the hours until she could close up, knowing Fred would greet her at the door as she flipped the sign to ‘closed’. She was grateful to have Fred as a friend, though she knew she wanted more. He quickly won her heart. His jokes always made her laugh, so did the harmless pranks he pulled on her. His blatant flirting always caught her off guard, but she loved it. She often found herself subtly flirting back. She tried to keep him at a distance, and seemed to fail at it. She wasn’t sure if it was to save her own feelings or to protect him from herself. A friend was one thing, but a lover or anything more, that was something she could never have. No one would want her when they found out her secret. She was afraid to let people in, to share more about herself, specifically the curse that plagued her for her whole life. She couldn’t bear the weight of the rejection. Yet she couldn’t ever seem to say no to Fred. She couldn’t keep herself tucked away from him. She leaned into any gentle touches, trying to convince herself that the touches were just friendly.

It was a moody and cold night that Fred had asked her to dinner and she couldn’t bring herself to say no to him or herself. As always, she seemed to have an enormous soft spot for the man. She had grown used to him being around. She found being in his company comforting. She enjoyed being close to him, enjoying his warmth. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel so alone. Even if Fred was just her friend, she was thankful to the sense of belonging he brought to her despite everything. They had spent hours talking and laughing over dinner. They always seemed to have plenty to talk about, even if they saw each other every day. Over the past few months, Fred had noticed that she never took her gloves off. He wasn’t sure why. Was it a germ thing? Was she insecure about her hands? She had mentioned that she had done countless failed spells but never elaborated on how or why they failed. Was there damage done to her hands from a spell backfiring? He had many questions about it, but never asked. He wasn’t sure how she would react. He didn’t want to ruin the night. He could listen to her talk for hours. Her accent always caught and held his attention. They could be in the loudest pub and she would still hold all of his attention. They finally left as the restaurant was closing. She hadn’t realised how much time had gone by. He led her out, his hand on the small of her back. She felt her stomach flutter at his touch and the pressure of his hand firm but soft. As he was walking her home, he grabbed her gloved hand, intertwining their fingers. This was the first moment that her heart truly began to yearn for more. The first time in such a long time. She had longed for friends as a child, longed for normalcy in her life, but now it was him. She longed for anything more than their friendship. She had never felt someone’s skin with her bare hands, never experienced such a small act of intimacy. They walked in silence, but she found herself stepping closer to him, bringing their joined hands slightly in front of her body so she could hold onto his arm with her other hand. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Thank you, Fred. I had a great time with you.” She said quietly as they came to a stop in front of her door. “Thanks for coming, love.” He smirked, giving her a wink. “Fred!” She smacked his chest gently, causing him to laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, love?” She nodded, turning to her door. “Bonne nuit, Fred.” She gave him a smile. “I don’t know what that was, but you can talk dirty to me anytime.” He grinned. “Goodnight, Fred!” She laughed, shaking her head. “G’night, love!” He shouted as he made his way to his door. She locked her door behind her, still smiling to herself. What was she getting herself into?

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon when Fred had finally asked the question she had been dreaded for the last six months. “Hey, love. Why do you always wear gloves?” His voice startled her as she was placing new products on the shelves. She took a quiet breath, preparing herself, trying to force down the feeling of panic. She turned to find him standing right behind, a small sigh leaving her lips. “I-, well,” She paused, she had never told anyone of the curse that plagued her, her whole life. Only her parents knew. She kept it a secret, it was easier that way. She preferred to be thought of as weird for wearing gloves, rather than having people fear or pity her. “Freddie.” She whispered, looking up to meet his gaze. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she wasn’t sure what to say, that she was struggling. “I’m sorry, you don’t ha-.” She cut him off before he could finish. “I cannot touch anything living or dead with my bare hands.” She whispered, looking up to meet Fred’s eyes. The words spilled out of her mouth. His hand came up to cup her cheek, noticing the change in her demeanour. Her eyes closed for a moment, savouring his touch. “Why?” He pressed as she turned to press a kiss to his palm. “Just the slightest brush of my fingertips will take the life from anything living. My touch can bring someone back, but to do so is to bind their life and their soul to mine. And mine to theirs. But I-. I can’t save someone from the fate I brought upon them.” She felt her bottom lip tremble as she spoke. She blinked back the tears that welled in her eyes. She was terrified of what he would say, what he would do. She waited for him to turn and walk out the door, but he didn’t. Anyone would, and he probably should. He could easily take it all back now, before it was too late. Before she was too attached to him. He swiped his thumb across her cheek, wiping away a tear that she hadn’t realised had fallen. Her hand came up to his, gripping it. The thin material of her glove separating their hands. She thought of a thousand things that Fred could say or do, but she didn’t think this would happen. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She froze at first, slightly shocked. It only took a moment for her to kiss him back. She brought her hand to his face, cupping his cheek. The kiss was gentle, lasting only a few moments. He pulled away resting his forehead against hers. “Fred.” She whispered, shaking her head slightly. Maybe it wasn’t too late to back out of this. He pressed another kiss to her lips. “That doesn’t change a thing. Doesn’t change how I feel.” He whispered, pulling her into his chest. He always seemed to know what she was thinking before she could even say it. “Will you stay?” She whispered, breathing in his cologne. “Of course, love. Always.” He pressed a kiss to her head. “I meant tonight, Freddie.” She said, pulling back from the embrace to look at him. “Yes, absolutely.” He grinned, stealing another kiss from her lips.

She went with him when he went into hiding, spending her days with the order. It was a quick, stolen kiss that seemed to push her into her gift. Images flash before her eyes and her lips begin to move. “You, Fred Weasley, will be the greatest blessing or the most devastating curse.” She gasped, tearing away from Fred. “Je suis desole, I tried to stop it.” She whispered, staring at him with wide eyes. The images replayed in her head. The flashes, the horrible images she saw. He would die and it seemed like there was nothing she could do to stop it. She prayed that what she saw was wrong, that it was just a small possibility and not an absolute. She couldn’t lose him, not now, not ever. She shared her heart and soul with this man, she would willingly give her life for his if she could. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, she could feel her heart breaking. She would lose him, she wouldn’t be able to protect him, but she may be able to save him. Only if she got there in time. There was a chance that she could save him. But what would be the cost? She realised that she didn’t care. She would gladly pay it. She didn’t realise that she was trembling until Fred had pulled her to his chest. “Whatever you just saw, it will be okay.” He murmured into her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Her fingers dug into his shirt as she stood there breathing him in. “I love you.” She mumbled into his chest, the words almost inaudible with how she was burying her face into his shirt. She almost expected him to make light of the situation, maybe make a joke to snap her out of her current state. “Je t’aime.” Fred butchered the pronunciation, but her heart fluttered at his use of her native language. A small giggle came from her. The warmth in her heart, momentarily, pushing away the dreadful vision and thoughts. “Was it that bad? I practised!”

She spent the remaining months researching while Harry was off finding horcruxes. She scavenged through every last resource she could find. She asked Hermoine to keep a lookout for any old books if possible. Hermoine had sent her three books, two almost helpful, but not. The third one from the Black house was exactly what she needed. She didn’t find a way to reverse her curse, but she now knew what she had to do if her vision was true. She wasn’t sure if she was prepared to do what needed to be done, but she at least understood what would happen if she did. The spell would be taxing, it would drain her of all her energy and possibly more. There was a chance that it could fail and she would die. If she were to save him, she would need to essentially meld their souls together, split them both in half to share between the two. There was a light at the end of the tunnel, but she knew she couldn’t let him out of her sight. She would have very little time to act, such a small window before it would be too late. Fred found her in their room, mulling over the old, yellowing book. “Find anything, love?” He asked, standing in the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe, taking in the sight of her. Her eyes met his when she tore her gaze from the book. “Nothing that I’m looking for.” She lied. She felt bad, lying to Fred. She just couldn’t bring herself to tell him what she knew. She was surprised that she had been able to mute her prophecy, in a sense. She was able to twist it to a statement, instead of rambling out the events and key details. She knew it in her head, but Fred only knew the words that came out of her mouth. He often didn’t ask about what she meant on the few occasions this had happened. She often didn’t remember what she said when she fell into a prophecy. But this one was different. It was like a permanent scar on her heart, a constant replay in her mind. She couldn’t forget it and, despite the pain, she was thankful that she hadn’t. If remembering was the reason she was able to save Fred, she would live with the pain until that day. She would sacrifice anything for him.

It was in the next month that he asked her to marry him. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just the two of them. She wore the ring on a delicate chain around her neck most days. She owned very few gloves that the ring would fit over. She longed for nothing more than to be able to feel his skin under her fingers, to know what his hair felt like when she ran her fingers through it. Fred was, well, he was something else. He loved her for everything that she was. He loved her despite not being able to touch her hands. He loved her even when she went into trances. He could have swore she hung the moon in the sky herself. She didn’t think she could ever repay him for how unconditionally he loved her, despite everything. She wished she could. She wished they could have some sense of normalcy, she wished she could touch him.

Her heart pounded in her chest the day they went to Hogwarts, waiting for the worst to happen. She had tried the whole night to stay close to him, but it was so hard in all the chaos. Her body ached. She had been thrown to the ground countless times. She had been hit by more curses than she cared to admit. Perhaps it was dumb luck that she was still alive, but she hadn’t been hit by a curse to take her life… yet. She couldn’t let that happen. Not until she saved him. She didn’t care what happened to her as long as he was okay. He needed to be okay. She lost him once or twice, panic running through her. She needed to be close to him. She couldn’t let him out of her sight. She couldn’t lose him. The first person she let in. The first person she wasn’t afraid would run from her if they found out what she was unfortunately capable of. The first person to love her, and really love her. The first person who wasn’t afraid of her touching them with gloved hands. She lost him again when she was hit by another curse. All of the air left her body when she hit the ground. She wasn’t sure she could get up, the pain was unbearable. The pain in her ribs made her think that she had finally broken something. She rolled over, pushing herself to her feet. She was sure her body was going to give out from the pain. Every step seemed to awaken a new pain in a new part of her body. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, desperately looking for Fred.

She finally spotted him on the battlefield, running to him. Her legs were protesting the exertion, but she kept moving. The pain in her ribs made it hard to breathe, let alone stand. She pushed herself further, trying to get to him. A scream left her lips when she saw the curse hit him. The pain, the heartbreak threatened to freeze her in her tracks when he hit the ground. She kept running, peeling her gloves off as she got closer to where he lay. She was oblivious to curses being thrown her way, too caught up in the only thing she could do. She fell to the ground when her body jerked, another scream leaving her lips at the pain. She could feel the blood soaking into her shirt, her hand coming up to the wound, wincing at the slight touch. She forced herself to move, scrambling on her hands and knees to get to Fred. That’s when she saw him, George running for his twin. She cursed to herself as she cast stupify at the man, sending him flying back, hoping she didn’t hurt him. She just needed space, needed to focus. She couldn’t have George near her, near Fred. She wasn’t willing to risk anyone besides herself. There was a chance this wouldn’t work. It could all go horribly wrong. Her hands trembled, reaching for Fred’s face. She froze, her heart aching as she looked down at the man that she loved. His chest was still, his face covered in dirt and blood. He was gone. Her tears started to fall, but she forced herself to focus. She had to do this. This was the only way. She couldn’t lose him. She cupped his face in her hands, her head falling to his chest. She began to chant the incantation, trying to block out the sounds around her. The screams, the maniacal laughter, and George yelling. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, the words not registering as she focused on the spell. Moments passed in what felt like hours, her body fighting with her will. The pain was getting to be too much, but she was so close. She was almost done, her body slumped onto Fred’s as she felt her energy draining. A scream left her lips as she sat straight up before the world faded to black.

She woke to the sound of hushed voices, muffled sobs, and groans of pain around her. Her breath caught in her throat. Where was she? Did it work? Did she save him? The last thing she remembered was passing out, exerting all of her energy into the spell. A hand squeezed hers, a panic coming over her at the feeling. It was a new feeling, one she had always longed for, one she feared. She ripped her hand away, trying to sit up. She whimpered, falling back to the ground. “Easy, love.” A familiar voice whispered, a hand brushing against her cheek. The voice registered but it couldn’t be… She opened her eyes, letting out a shaky breath that caught in her throat. There he was, leaning over her. He reached out, taking her hand again. His fingers laced with hers, her hands bare. Tears sprang to her eyes and she pushed herself up, ignoring the pain. She slid her hand from his grasp, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She whispered into his neck. “Love, you saved me.” His voice was filled with a sense of awe. He peeled away from her, grabbing her hand. She stared at him, a sense of wonder settling in. He pressed her bare palm to his cheek, giving her a soft smile. She brought her other hand up, cupping both sides of his face. “I can’t live in this world without you, Fred.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips. The kiss was passionate, though short. He pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers. “I love you, more than anything.” He whispered. She pushed her fingers through his hair, smiling. She never thought she would be able to touch him, not like this. Fred gently laid her back down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

#imagines #one shots #harry potter #one shot #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley smut #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasly x reader #fred wealsey fic #harry potter one shots #harry potter imagines #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #iiwontgiveuponmilkk

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marauderverse · 4 months

Text

With Love//F.W x Reader Pt.2

Summary: Y/n Dursley of number 4 Privet Drive hates her life. That was, of course, until the summer before grade 9, after an oddly charming redhead and his brothers helped her cousin escape. it was probably a good thing he forgot to return that key.

word count: 2k

The second time Y/n Dursley ever formally met Fred Weasley was the summer before year 12 when the Weasley family got stuck in her electric fireplace.

She had known they were coming; Harry had been babbling about the quidditch World Cup any chance he could since he got the letter from Ron.

Even though she had no idea what on God's green earth a Bludger, Quaffle or snitch was, she would happily listen to him go on and on about it.

“I am not wearing that,” She stated, placing a hand on her hip and glaring at her parents.

“But you must,’ her mother insisted, thrusting the ghastly dress in her direction.

It was a horrid shade of yellow, with frills and lace that made her eyes hurt.

“I would rather drink bleach and stick pins in my eyes than wear that,” she said, mustering up as much disdain in her voice as she possibly could before pushing past her mother.

Petunia let out a scournful gasp as her daughters words.

Y/n continued her way up the steps and to her room, which she stayed locked up in for the remainder of the evening. She hated it when her parents got like this.

What were they trying to prove?

Who were they trying to impress?

She huffed, flopping down onto her bed, teenage angst oozing from her annoyed frame.

She turned, opening her bedside drawer and fishing out the thick stack of letters shes collected over the past year. She unlopped the rubber band and began shuffling through the yellowing parchment.

She hadn’t intended on exchanging letters with Fred weasley as long as she did.

It started off with him simply returning the key to the cupboard under the stairs, and her sending him back a thank you note. Things seemed to just snowball after that.

He was fascinated by the prospect of muggle life and muggle school, and she the idea of growing up in an all magical family.

She had learned so much from the letters they exchanged. Things that harry would conveniently forget to tell her;

Like when all the bones in one of his arms disappeared, or how he can speak to snakes. Fred explained the intricacies of the wizarding school system, about the O.W.Ls and the N.E.W.Ts. in return she explained the muggle school system which wasn not unlike the wizarding one.

She complained about her crazy family and he complained about his brothers.

She knew he was coming to pick harry up tonight, along with his father, George and Ron.

She knew about his plans with his brother to open a wizard joke shop. He said that it was refreshing to talk to someone that wasn’t his twin about the shop. She loved receiving the letters from him everyother week, it was just about the only thing that kept her sane in this god forsaken house.

She was determined to get out of here as soon as she graduated highschool. Move away from Surrey and move to the heart of London. She’s always wanted to live in the city.

She was alerted to the presence of the Weasleys by a loud banging and crash, followed by screaming and yelling. She shoved the letters back into her draw, leaping up from the bed. Stopping to fix her hair in the mirror before leaving her room.

As she stepped out of her room she almost ran straight into someone.

“Careful,” he said, gently grabbing her forearm as to stop her from falling.

She looked up, grinning at the boy before her. It had been almost two full years since she had seen him face to face, save the passing looks they shared when she picked harry up from Kings Cross at the beginning of the summer.

“You seem to have an affinity for destroying my house,” She said, mind drawing blanks on really anything else to say.

He simply grinned, letting go of her arm.

“I don’t do it on purpose, i promise,” He said.

They seemed to stare at one another, neither knowing exactly what to say.

She noticed he was considerably taller than last time, his hair was longer and his jaw seemed stronger.

“Oi, stop flirting and come help me,” His brother called from Harry’s room.

She felt her face heat up at the insinuation, before looking away and making her way down the steps.

She stopped, not being able to stifle a slight laugh at the sight before her. The typically pristine living room was covered in broken drywall and chipped paint. Her family covered in the white powder, tarnishing thier nicest sunday suits.

"Ah, this is your other cousin, is it, Harry?" said Mr. Weasley, turning to face the girl in the door frame.

"Yep," said Harry, "that's Y/n" He and Ron exchanged glances and then quickly looked away from each other; it seemed they were sharing intelligence that y/n was not privy to.

She ignored the glare her parents were sending her.

She ignored the way her brother gasped as she grasped Mr. Weasley’s hand shook it. She exchanged a knowing smirk with her cousin at the look her father sent her.

"Having a good holiday, Y/n?" he said kindly.

“Yeah,” She sighed, “I Start mt GCSEs this year so you know,” She said vaguky.

“Right,” Mr. Weasley said slowly, turning to look at Harry for clarification.

“They’re like the muggle equivalent of O.W.Ls Mr. Weasley,” Harry explained.

“Ah yes,” He said, clapping his hands together in understanding “very important, my sons, Fred and George did their O.W.Ls last year, only three owls each can you believe that,” he said, exasperation evident.

“Oh my,” She said, unsure of what exactly that meant but certain it wasn’t great by the tone of his voice.

As though summoned by the mention of their names, Fred and George came back into the room carrying Harry's school trunk. They glanced around as they entered and spotted Dudley. Their faces cracked into identical evil grins.

"Ah, right," said Mr. Weasley. "Better get cracking then." He pushed up the sleeves of his robes and took out his wand.

y/n watched as the res of her family the drew back against the wall as one.

"Incendio!" said Mr. Weasley, pointing his wand at the hole in the wall behind him. Flames rose at once in the fireplace, crackling merrily as though they had been burning for hours. Mr. Weasley took a small drawstring bag from his pocket, untied it, took a pinch of the powder inside, and threw it onto the flames, which turned emerald green and roared higher than ever.

"Off you go then, Fred," said Mr. Weasley.

"Coming," said Fred. "Oh no - hang on -" A bag of sweets had spilled out of Fred's pocket and the contents were now rolling in every direction - big, fat toffees in brightly colored wrappers. Fred scrambled around, cramming them back into his pocket, then gave the Dursleys a cheery wave, stepped forward, and walked right into the fire, saying "the Burrow!"

Aunt Petunia gave a little shuddering gasp.

There was a whooshing sound, and Fred vanished.

"Right then, George," said Mr. Weasley, "you and the trunk." Harry helped George carry the trunk forward into the flames and turn it onto its end so that he could hold it better. Then, with a second whoosh, George had cried "the Burrow!" and vanished too.

"Ron, you next," said Mr. Weasley. "See you," said Ron brightly to the Dursleys. He grinned broadly at Harry, then stepped into the fire, shouted "the Burrow!" and disappeared.

Now Harry and Mr. Weasley alone remained.

"Well . . . 'bye then," Harry said to the Dursleys.

y/n moved forward, embracing her cousin.

“Be safe okay, don’t get yourself into too much trouble,” She said.

“I won’t,” He promised, although they both knew that was a lie.

“Don’t die and remember to write to me or I’ll go crazy,” she said, stepping away and breaking their embrace.

But as expected, Y/n was the only one to say goodbye to Harry, the rest of the dursleys didn't say anything at all. Harry moved toward the fire, but just as he reached the edge of the hearth, Mr. Weasley put out a hand and held him back. He was looking at the Dursleys in amazement.

"Harry said good-bye to you," he said. "Didn't you hear him?"

"It doesn't matter," Harry muttered to Mr. Weasley. "Honestly, I don't care."

Mr. Weasley did not remove his hand from Harry's shoulder.

"You aren't going to see your nephew till next summer," he said to her father in mild indignation. "Surely you're going to say good-bye?"

Her father’s face worked furiously. The idea of being taught consideration by a man who had just blasted away half his living room wall seemed to be causing him intense suffering.

But Mr. Weasley's wand was still in his hand, and she could see the unease in her fathers face as he eyed it suspiciously, before he said, very resentfully,

"Good-bye, then."

"See you," said Harry, putting one foot forward into the green flames,

At that same moment, however, a horrible gagging sound erupted behind him, and Aunt Petunia started to scream. Y/n wheeled around. Dudley was no longer standing behind their parents.

He was kneeling beside the coffee table, and he was gagging and sputtering on a foot-long, purple, slimy thing that was protruding from his mouth. One bewildered second later, she realized that the foot-long thing was Dudley's tongue - and that a brightly colored toffee wrapper lay on the floor before him.

their mother hurled herself onto the ground beside Dudley, seized the end of his swollen tongue, and attempted to wrench it out of his mouth; unsurprisingly, Dudley yelled and sputtered worse than ever, trying to fight her off.

Their father was bellowing and waving his arms around, and Mr. Weasley had to shout to make himself heard.

"Not to worry, I can sort him out!" he yelled, advancing on Dudley with his wand outstretched, but Petunia screamed worse than ever and threw herself on top of Dudley, shielding him from Mr. Weasley.

"No, really!" said Mr. Weasley desperately. "It's a simple process it was the toffee - my son Fred - real practical joker - but it's only an Engorgement Charm - at least, I think it is - please, I can correct it -" But far from being reassured, her family seemed to became more panic- stricken; Petunia was sobbing hysterically, tugging Dudley's tongue as though determined to rip it out; Dudley appeared to be suffocating under the combined pressure of his mother and his tongue; andtheir father, who had lost control completely, seized a china figure from on top of the sideboard and threw it very hard at Mr Weasley, who ducked, causing the ornament to shatter in the blasted fireplace.

"Now really!" said Mr Weasley angrily, brandishing his wand. "I'm trying to help!"

“Dad, let him help,” Y/n shouted back, ducking out of the way of another china ornament.

“You stay out of this, child!” He called.

She turned to Mr Weasley, an apologetic look on her face.

It was another five minutes of this back and forth. More China being smashed, and more and more tears and screams before they finally relented and allowed Mr Weasley to help Dudley.

As soon as his tongue was back to normal, her family stepped out of the room, muttering about ‘these people.

“I’m sorry about that, my dear,” He said, flicking his want and repairing the broken ornaments.

“No, don’t be; it’s incredibly entertaining for me. I should be the one apologising. I’m sure you know already, but my family is kind of crazy,”

“Well, it was nice meeting you; Harry speaks very highly of you,” he said.

“Really? Well, it’s good to know he doesn’t think I’m crazy,” She laughed lightly.

She watched as Mr Weasly stepped into the flame, repairing the wall and electric fireplace. A muffled ‘the Burrow!” Could hear a loud whoosh, and he was gone.

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley #harry potter imagine #harry potter fandom #harry potter

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peeves-gurl · 9 months

Text

Thighs

Fred Weasley × BigThigh! Female

i literally have no idea where this is coming from after a year of writing nothing.

Summary: She hates her thighs, but her boyfriend loves them, and he wants to make sure she knows.

Warnings: established relationship, self hate, body dismorphia, lots of fluff, pet names (sweetheart/baby/darling/ love), mention of pregnancy, 18+ MDNI!!

FEMALE CHARACTER HAS NO NAME, AND NO SPECIFIC SKIN/EYE/HAIR COLOUR (partly because i couldn't make my brain come up with so many details😭)

smut: oral fem recieving, thigh fucking, face sitting, unprotected p in v, praise, body worship, hickeys? idk

She looked at herself in the mirror, light makeup highlighting her features beautifully. The thin straps of the sundress hanging across her shoulders, the top resting just above her bust, not exposing much, but not showing anything either. The fabric was a light powder blue with tiny flowers along its length, and it hugged her figure perfectly. It was the perfect summer dress, upto her mid thigh.

She looked alright in her opinion, good even, but for her thighs. They were too thick, with too many stretch marks. The cellulite was dimpled and heavy, and jiggled with each movement of hers, and it truly disgusted her with herself. She was okay with her body, and honestly thought she was attractive when she was dressed well, like today, but her thighs were always the problem.

Gritting her teeth in annoyance, she flung open the door of her wardrobe that she shared with Fred, and picked out a different dress. It was a pale pink one, loose and long, and extended beyond her knees, hiding her biggest insecurity. Still slightly grumpy, she completed the finishing touches to her look, when she heard her boyfriend's voice from the door.

"You ready love?" Fred called out, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah. All done." She smiled, grabbing her purse and slipping on her sandals, before walking towards the handsome man. He was dressed in a white tank top vest and blue jeans, and a blue and white floral shirt wrapped around his broad shoulders, completing the summery look.

Fred held out his hand to her, and she delicately placed her much smaller one into his, and he gently pulled her closer to himself. Placing a tender kiss on his lips, she smiled up at him, admiring his beautiful eyes and perfect freckles and his signature Weasley hair that she loved so much.

Fred's eyes trailed down her body in admiration, before he turned back to meet her eyes with a puzzled look.

"You didn't wear that dress?" He asked sincerely, hoping to finally see her in it since she had been so happy buying it weeks ago.

"Not in the mood." She lied, and he nodded convincingly, though he was anything but convinced by her answer.

"Gorgeous, never the less," he said, complimenting her as he always did.

"You more," she smiled, kissing his cheek.

Since buying the dress, it was the only thing that she had talked about. She gushed over how her bag and sandals went perfectly with it, and how she'd style her hair whenever she'd get the chance to wear it. And now, she stood there, wearing something else, and Fred was sure there was more to it than she was showing.

They hurriedly locked their place and apparated to their destination, Lee Jordan's housewarming party. It was just a close knit celebration that he and his girlfriend, Andrea, were hosting together, since moving into their first appartment in London.

She blended quickly among the known faces, smiling and chatting with all their old friends and then joining Andrea and Angelina in a small tour of the appartment. The entire party then ended up in the living room, and she, along with Fred, George and Angelina hopped around their circle, enjoying the little reunion they were having with the entire gang from Hogwarts.

Fred couldn't help but look at her. He always thought her to be the most beautiful woman in the world, and himself to be the luckiest man in the world, to be able to call her his girlfriend. He loved looking at her hair, her soft makeup and her smile, but today it wasn't as big as it always was, and he knew it wasn't as real, and it physically hurt him to not know the reason for it. He was sure it had something to do with her dress, because every time someone complimented her tonight, there seemed to be a bit of hesitation before she uttered her usual 'thank you'.

She'd been saving it up for some 'special occasion', and as soon as Lee had called to extend an invitation to the party, she had been delighted at the idea of getting to wear it the way she had wanted. Fred was happy that she was happy, and now she wasn't, and he didn't know why.

It was nearly midnight when the party ended, and Fred and George finally bid goodbye, ready with their plan to spend the next day together at their shop, as per usual. She hugged Angelina, and then got hold of Fred's hand and apparated them back to their front door. Fred unlocked it and hung the keys in their spot as she headed back to their room to change into her pajamas. The feeling of her thighs touching each other under the dress made her want to throw up. She felt disgusting in her body and she just wanted to cover herself from head to toe and bury herself quietly into the blankets.

Her expression must have given it away, because Fred walked into the room right as she took out her pajamas.

"Hey," whisper into her ear, kissing her neck softly, and his hands circled her waist. "Don't change just yet, love. I haven't had the chance to admire you properly tonight."

"The dress is a bit uncomfortable", she replied, trying to stop her voice from breaking.

"Just a few minutes, please?" He requested, and she complied, twisting around in his arms to finally face him. His eyes were so full of love for her that it nearly made her cry, and when he leaned down to press his lips to hers, a stray tear managed to find its way down her cheek.

"Baby what's wrong?" He asked, gently wiping the tear away.

"Nothing, just tired," she lied.

"Why didn't you wear that dress today?" He asked again, and she repeated her previous answer of not being in the mood to wear it.

"Don't lie to me," he condemned softly, and she knew she was caught. "Tell me love, why didn't you wear it?"

The singular tear that had made its way out of her eyes was now followed by many more, and before she knew, she was a sobbing mess in front of her boyfriend. Fred pulled her into himself and comforted her, his hands gliding over her back and just letting her know that he was there, and he would be there forever.

When she had finally calmed down, Fred gently guided her over to their bed, and sat down, as she stood before him with puffy and swollen eyes. He slowly pulled her onto himself, making her straddle his lap and resting his hands across her back.

"What's the matter Princess?" he coaxed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It's something about that dress isn't it?"

She breathed in deeply, contemplating weather she should tell him or not. Of course she can tell him, he's Freddie, her Freddie, and he'd always understand.

"Ihatemythighs" she blurted out in a single breath, only to find Fred looking down at her, amused.

"Try saying that slower baby? I'm not that smart," he joked, earning a small smile.

"I hate my thighs," she said finally. "They're fat and ugly and they move around a lot, and that dress reveals them too much."

"Don't say that darling!" Fred said seriously, upset over what she'd just said about herself. "I've seen you try that dress on and you looked gorgeous!"

"Those trial room lights make everything look good, but I look horrid in that dress." She said.

"Do not say that about yourself," Fred scolded. "You're the most beautiful woman I've seen, with the most beautiful body and the most beautiful thighs. I won't hear anyone talk like that about you, even if you're the one saying it."

"You'd obviously say that, you're my boyfriend," she reasoned.

"I'm not lying sweetheart, I swear. You don't have to be insecure about anything." He said, only to be matched with a blank look from her.

"You don't believe me." He stated in disappointment, settling his hands over her thighs, through her dress, his fingers steadily moving towards the hem. "Can I?" He asked cautiously, not wanting to make her any more uncomfortable. She took a deep breath before nodding, allowing him to flip it up and run his fingers on the smooth skin.

"I love you. Every thing about you is perfect. You've got the most beautiful face, and I can't stop looking at it. Your eyes, your lips, your cute button nose," he said, leaning in to peck it. "I love your hair, and you look gorgeous when you leave it down. I love your neck, and that tiny freckle on your collarbone." He buried his nose at the base of her neck, breathing her scent, and nibbling gently.

"I love your boobs, and I can't stop thinking about them when you're not around, and your bum too," he smiled cheekily as his hands trailed up her thighs to gently squeeze her ass, and then returned to their previous place. "I love your arms, the way they wrap around my neck when I kiss you. And those damn hands, those fingers, could very well be the death of me." He smiled, kissing her exposed shoulder, and then her upper arm a few times.

"And your stomach is so soft darling. I love just looking at it, thinking if someday you'd let me put a baby in there?" He smiled, earning back a smile and a nod from her. "Your pussy, baby. I'm not even going to say anything, because you know she's better than drugs. And I love your legs, especially when you show them off in pretty skirts and dresses. I love it when you wrap them around me and pull me closer when I make love to you."

"So pretty," he whispered, caressing her thighs, barely audible. "Such beautiful thighs baby, so soft. I want to bury myself into them right fucking now."

"Freddie, please" she whispered back, not even sure what she was pleading for.

"Can I baby? Please?" He said, running his fingers over the smooth skin, and she nodded without thinking.

Fred's arms looped around her back, holding her tight to himself as he stood up and turned them around. He gently lay her down on the bed and got on between her legs. Leaning down to kiss her deeply, he whispered praises to her, making her feel so loved.

He kissed her neck and collarbone, leaving a few stray hickeys, and then pushed the straps of her dress aside to show the same love to her shoulders. Looking up at her for confirmation, he slipped her dress off her body and tossed it away in the room.

She was there now, in nothing but a pair of panties, and she could feel her usual confidence seep back into her body. She reached for Fred and pulled him back in, kissing him passionately and lovingly. Her hands fisted his shirt and pulled it off him, soon followed by his tank top vest, leaving his torso as bare as hers.

"Hmm that's how I like it," he encouraged into the kiss. Soon enough, he moved to her breasts, biting and sucking, and the room was filled with her moans. He kissed his way down to her panties, and she lifted her hips to let him pull them down. He placed her legs over his shoulders, and she shut her eyes in anticipation.

Instead of going right to her clit, he began to kiss and caress her thighs. "They're so pretty sweetheart. Why would you ever dislike them?" He whispered, teasing the skin with his teeth. He licked up the length of her left thigh, but stopped short of where she needed him. He began to suck and nibble the flesh there, drawing moan after moan from her throat. Soon enough, he was repeating his actions on her right thigh, and she was getting hornier by the minute.

Finally, his tongue reached where she wanted, and her eyes rolled back into her head at the feeling. Her fingers found themselves intertwined in his hair, pulling and tugging each time he did something more pleasurable than he'd done previously. Her walls had began to clench around nothing, and the pleasure she felt was too much to hold back. She was so close to her climax, moaning Fred's name, at the edge of bursting, when Fred stopped his actions and pulled away. Groaning, she sat up to face him, as he smiled through his slick covered lips.

"Sit on my face," he demanded with a grin.

"What? No." She said breathlessly.

"Please baby, it's not something that we haven't done before," he reasoned.

"But my thighs are really big and you..."

"No buts, come on!" He said, lying flat on his back, waiting for her to climb onto him.

Still not very sure of the idea, she positioned herself, but didn't put any weight on him, choosing to hover over his face instead. A blush crept up her neck and made its way to her face at being so spread out in front of him.

Fred smiled and licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit, and her head hung back at the feeling, as he picked up right where he had left off. Seeing her pleasure, his hands caressed her ass, before he pulled her onto himself entirely. He moaned at the feeling of being between her thighs, and began eating her out with even more enthusiasm than before.

She was so lost in her pleasure that she forgot her insecurity and began grinding down his face once his tongue entered her, and her moans were reciprocated with his own. She was coming in mere minutes, and it was probably the one of the best orgasms she'd had.

As she came down from her high, she shifted back from his face, sitting on Fred's chest now. His eyes were drowsy and his face was covered in her slick, as he smiled up at her. She immediately felt something hard behind herself and instantly reached her hand out, unzipping his jeans and letting her hand slide under the waistband of his boxers to reach his dick. Fred groaned in pleasure when her hand brushed against his sensitive tip, and instinctively jerked his hips forward.

"Don't," he grunted, almost sounding pained. "I won't be able to hold it in."

"Then don't hold it in, Freddie." She smiled, leaning down to kiss him, moaning at her own taste all over his mouth. She quickly whispered a soft "I love you," only for him to hear.

"Want to fuck you baby," he said. "Please."

She let go of him at his request, and climbed off him. Her hands busied themselves with getting rid of his jeans and boxers, as he lay on the bed watching her. As soon as he was completely undressed, he sat up, and then proceeded to get off the bed, much to her confusion. He walked over to ger dresser, hurriedly tossing everything off it onto the chair next to it. He came back towards her then, offering his hand to her, and she took it, following him off the bed.

"Going to fuck your thighs today, baby." He declared, "Need you to know how much I love them. Is that okay?"

She nodded, letting him sit on the sturdy wooden table, with his back against the mirror, and stood right between his legs. One of his hands rested on her waist as he finally took his length in the other and guided it to her slit, rubbing it through her wetness and letting his head fall back against the mirror in pleasure. She had enough of his teasing now, so she quickly took matters into her own hands. Her fingers pulled away his own from his dick, and she wrapped her palm around him now. He let her take the lead, both his hands clutching onto her waist, and holding her in place. Spreading her hickey covered thighs a little, she guided his tip through the gap. He thrusted forward in relief, and he brushed perfectly against her clit, giving her just as much pleasure as him. His head now rested on her shoulder, and his moans went straight into her ears, turning her into a complete mess.

It was slow at first, since they had never tried this before, but once the pleasure built up, Fred's thrusts became more confident and sure, until he was close enough for them to become sloppy once more. She was just as close, her clit throbbing with each stroke against it.

"I'm so close baby," he whispered hoarsely. "Where do you want it?"

"Inside Freddie, please!" She replied, barely able to keep her eyes open. He immediately pulled her onto himself and she was straddling his lap now, her hand guiding his tip into her warmth. She sat down as soon as the tip was inside, completely sheathing him, and burying her face into his chest.

"So warm love. So good." He moaned, thrusting up into her mercilessly.

"You're so big Freddie. Could never get used to you," she said back in her state of complete haze. Her walls fluttered around him, and he connected their lips, his tongue intertwined hers as she came hard. Fred followed seconds later, his moans swallowed by her as their lips remained connected, and his warmth coated her insides.

She once again buried herself into his chest as they stilled, her arms in their rightful place around him, and his softening dick still inside her. He held her close to himself, warm breath fanning her back as his head rested on her shoulder.

"Baby?" He whispered after a few moments of silence, and his voice was laced with his usual mischief.

"Hmm?"

"Do you like your thighs yet? If not then I'd love to try again."

#fred and george #fred weasley #harry potter #weasley twins #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #fredweasley #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut

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t1oui · 4 months

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i had another fic idea. (bear with me, it's a long one. read it after the cut.)

percy weasley was always the black sheep of the weasley family - the outcast, the nerd, the one who didn't quite click. so when he was sorted into slytherin, not gryffindor, it wasn't really a surprise.

the weasleys couldn't believe it, though, could they? percy was the smart one. the kid arthur and molly could brag about, the older brother fred and george could prank. slytherin was different. slytherin was a statement.

percy loved it.

for once in his life, percy was away from siblings, parents, and expectations. he was going to forge his own path, and they wouldn't have any hand in it - and that's why he was there, wasn't it? his ambitions, bigger than his family could ever imagine.

percy was still a good student, don't get me wrong. he studied hard and got good marks, and he befriended penelope clearwater, a ravenclaw who valued schoolwork even more than he did. percy was still a good student, still analytical and logical, but not nearly as uptight as his family remembered him. his parents watched as he smiled over letters with his new friends the summer after his first year, and the twins were surprised to see how often he laughed the summer after his second. when they joined him for his third year, their first, they couldn't help but grudgingly respect the easygoing, confident manor of the boy at the slytherin table.

by his fifth year, percy was fairly popular in his house. nobody made fun of him for being made prefect; instead, they congratulated him. as percy waited for his youngest brother to get sorted, he sat beside marcus flint, the two of them making small bets on which houses they thought the first years would be placed into.

neither of them put harry potter in slytherin. neither of them knew what to say when the sorting hat announced the boy who lived was a snake, and neither of them said anything as they accepted oliver wood's distant apologetic smile at the outrage of the gryffindors. harry was supposed to be theirs.

but percy knew that silence, that outrage, that surprise. the discomfort that came with expectations not being followed. so, really, waving harry over to sit beside him wasn't a difficult decision.

in harry's second year, as people spread rumors about him being the heir of slytherin, percy and marcus and oliver and penny and even cedric and cho, third and fourth years themselves, were always there to defend him. their youngest ally, their youngest friend, percy's brother. the boy who respected him, looked up to him, when his own family didn't.

ron and ginny were gryffindors, but harry was a slytherin. harry walked the halls with blaise zabini, draco malfoy, and pansy parkinson, but he also walked them with percy weasley and marcus flint.

as percy grew, watching the odd happenings that surrounded his brother, he learned not to assume the best. he never had, really, but now he knew more than ever how dangerous optimism could be. percy did not go straight into the ministry, still riding the high of being head boy. instead, he spent long evenings eating takeout in oliver's dingy london flat and meeting up with penelope and marcus to discuss books. (oliver said he would've joined their book club, really, but with puddlemere, he was far too busy, and none of them faulted him for it.)

when percy was 18, he was surprised to find tickets to the 1994 quidditch world cup in his mailbox, but he agreed to attend with his family. he received two tickets and chose to bring marcus, letting oliver use his second ticket for penelope. when death eaters arrived, the four of them stayed back to help usher people into the forest. they didn't show their faces, and even then, as he shared a look with marcus at the sight of the dark mark above their heads, percy knew what he had to do.

at the triwizard tournament, percy - now an employee of ludo bagman - found himself sitting with harry potter once again, watching him and cedric (who was already much bigger than the last time percy had seen him) compete. he saw the way harry watched cedric and cho at the yule ball and couldn't help smiling, knowing what it was and going to send oliver an owl about it as soon as he could. he's growing up, percy had scrawled, unable to contain his happiness.

when percy weasley was 19 years old, still a mere child, he didn't walk out on his family for the ministry. he didn't make his mother cry, and he didn't call harry potter a liar. he didn't deflect and forge papers for muggleborns, didn't get them to safe houses. when percy weasley was 19, he and marcus hugged oliver and penelope goodbye before leaving to take the mark, hoping that their sacrifice would be enough.

just like he had in his few months with the ministry, percy quickly rose voldemort's ranks. he smiled as he spoke of getting revenge on blood traitors like his own family, and he laughed when voldemort killed muggles before him, and he gained the dark lord's trust like no other. he sat around a table with severus snape and watched as his former head of house studied him, not realizing how similar the two of them really were.

percy did not forge papers or lead those in need to safe houses, but he didn't have to. that was oliver and penny's job, and he knew enough to know that they were doing it well. he couldn't send letters, but he could send a patronus, and when he learned of cho chang joining the order the second she was of age, he sent one offering his congratulations and telling her to stay strong. not like you aren't already, he'd said. she'd come a long way from the excited little girl who annoyed penny with talks of quidditch.

percy celebrated his 21st birthday with marcus flint and a silvery stag, curled up beside him with the promise of a reunion in the near future.

percy weasley was 21 when he arrived at hogwarts for a battle he pretended to be on the wrong side of. he kept his hood up and his mask in place, and he squeezed marcus's hand before he broke off into the crowd. he may have looked like one of the bad guys, and he may have acted like one all his life, but what was percy if not unpredictable?

when he found fred behind a crumbling wall barely separating him from three death eaters, he cast a spell. he didn't stop to see who he'd killed in favor of this boy (not his family, not anymore), and he didn't stop to revel in fred's surprise as his older brother's voice spilled from a death eater's mouth and told him to get to safety.

percy weasley did not slow down. percy weasley did not hesitate. percy weasley killed friends and foe - they were often one in the same, nowadays - and he fought until it wasn't his fight anymore. he fought until it was time for him to stand back, holding up a bleeding marcus as he watched his baby brother, the one with green eyes the same color as his tie, face off against the man he'd been reporting to for months.

percy did not cheer when voldemort fell, instead dropping marcus into oliver's arms and running foward to pull the brother he'd almost lost into a long-awaited hug.

"i'm proud of you," he whispered, and he held harry, let him sob into his shoulder, until aurors arrived and threatened to take anyone with a mark on their forearms. harry stood his ground, ready to defend, but he wasn't surprised to find percy gone. he walked back to blaise and pansy and draco, collapsed into their arms and gave a small smile to ron, the boy who'd given him company during the dark months in grimmauld.

percy weasley was tired, far more exhausted and far more mature than someone his age should've been. as he fell asleep in oliver's flat for the first time in years, squished between oliver and marcus on the couch, hands tangled in penny's hair, he couldn't help but smiling at one thought:

he was a better spy than severus snape. he was a war hero.

you can now read part 2, from harry's pov, here!

#harry potter #harry potter fandom #percy weasley #percy weasey centric #slytherin percy weasley #slytherin percy #percy weasley x oliver wood #perciver #penelope clearwater #marcus flint #oliver wood #dark percy weasley #slytherin harry

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whinlatter · 1 year

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Heyyy I absolutely loooove your metas and fics and istg I've read all of them and I constantly keep reading them. Big fan, maam! Also I have a question, how do you think Ginny's family, especially each of her overprotective brothers reacted when they got to know that Harry and Ginny dated? And then broke up and the again got back together?

Thank you so so much for reading (and re-reading!!!!) all of my stuff, you absolute legend 💗💖💘

You will be unsurprised to hear that I've thought about this one a lot. The short version is: I'm Team The Weasleys Always Sort Of Knew Something Was Going On and Were Supportive (if a bit Amused). The longer version is below the cut!

(Also someone else kindly sent an ask about this a while ago, about Molly and Arthur knowing about the break-up, and I completely forgot to post my reply to that, so very sorry to that anon, and hope the too-long discussion of this Q under the cut makes up for it!)

I think there's a lot of evidence that throughout the series at least some of the Weasleys speculated something was going on or would one day go on between Harry and Ginny (especially the observant ones - Bill, Molly, Arthur, maybe even the twins, to some extent):

Ginny's historic crush on Harry in CoS is about as subtle as a brick through the window, visible both at the Burrow and at school with the Valentine, which the twins and Ron all know about (and rinse Harry for)

Ginny's romantic life is canonically the subject of some sibling speculation (see Fred and George at WWW in HBP), as are the love lives of all the siblings bar Charlie and the twins (Bill, Percy, Ron all get the sibling side-eye)

Starting in Christmas in OotP Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny begin to hang out a lot that Christmas as a foursome in ways that might invite some idle speculation about the pairings within…

By HBP, Harry does spend both the summer and Christmas holidays of 1996 either in cahoots with Ginny to tease Ron or staring at her or getting goosebumps whenever she got physically close to him (have you seen a teenage boy with a crush? Also criminally unsubtle)

When Harry and Ginny get together in HBP, I don't think Ginny would ever tell her parents or any brothers other than Ron that she's started dating Harry. But there may well have been clues her family might pick up on:

After Bill's attack by Greyback, Bill remains in the Hospital Wing. It's implied that Molly, Arthur and Fleur stay either in the castle or in Hogsmeade in the days between the attack on the Astronomy Tower and Dumbledore's funeral. Harry and Ginny are together at this point, spending all their time together with Ron and Hermione. Obviously Fleur, Molly and Arthur would be preoccupied with Bill's recovery, but I do think it would be noticeable that the trio had become a four, and that Harry and Ginny seemed much closer than they were previously - Fleur in particular I think might notice, given her affection for Harry, and likely pass on her speculation to Bill (hi sorry you got savaged by a werewolf but guess who your sister is smashing)

Many of the teachers close to Molly and Arthur (such as McGonagall and Hagrid) likely knew about Harry and Ginny (if Snape and Slughorn knew, the goodies knew too, I reckon). They would have had occasion to mention it to the family at least in passing in that interim period between the attack and the funeral (my money is on Hagrid)

At the funeral itself, Harry and Ginny sit together in public and interact quite intimately before the break up takes place (Ginny whispering in his ear, nudging him, then obviously staying sat alone together after the funeral is over). All her family are in attendance, and remain close by when the break-up happens, and likely travel back to London altogether (though I don't think they would necessarily witness the breakup or notice it happening in the moment). I think it would be clear that there was something going on between Harry and Ginny, even if it wasn't at all clear what that was

In DH, you have quite a few moments where there are even more little hints that Harry and Ginny was a bit of an open secret among the Weasleys:

In DH, Ron makes that comment about Ginny and the tattoo as they strip off in the seven Potters scene, in front of his dad, Bill, Fleur and the twins (Ginny's seen Harry shirtless because they're just very good pals, don't worry about it!)

Ok this one is a bit galaxy-brain take sleuthing on my part but during the wedding prep Molly is deliberately trying to separate the trio and convince them not to leave. She allocates the tasks and assigns them to combinations of people very deliberately. The evening after Molly corners Harry and tries to get him not to leave, she makes Harry and Ginny set the dinner table alone in the kitchen. Now, do we think Molly Weasley, Mastermind in Chief, might have put Harry and Ginny on a task together as she tries to persuade Harry not to go on the hunt... is this Molly pulling out the big guns...

At the wedding, Ginny winks at Harry in front of her entire assembled family when Muriel says she's showing too much boob (icon alert). And then Harry spends most of the reception leaning against a pillar staring at Ginny in front of her entire family. I mean, lads. You're killing me

When the DA summon the Order before the Battle in the Room of Requirement, Ginny is my petty queen has that infamous interaction with Cho over the diadem in front of the twins, showing she is giving precisely zero shits at this point

Harry and Ginny have that wordless interaction where Harry refuses to support her staying behind to fight in the battle, in front of all her family, where she at least appears to agree to go home only because Harry has said so, taking his direction over that of her family's. (I mean, we all know Ginny then tries to sneak off to fight because she's not only a petty queen but also a sneaky one but... still significant)

The big one for me is Ginny's reaction to Harry's death. She screams the loudest out of McGonagall, Hermione and Ron when she sees his body, in front of all the Weasleys and all combatants. I'm not saying this grieving war-ravaged family were thinking like huh weird that Ginny's so sad rn given the situation at hand, but I do think it was quite a telling moment for what Harry and Ginny had become by this point in the narrative

All this is to say I think many of the Weasleys might have suspected something was going on, but didn't know the full story, and have the discretion not to blame Harry for Ginny’s misery nor to pry too much after the breakup, especially when Ginny comes home from school heartbroken (which is partly why I had them trying to cheer Gin up somewhat ambiguously in think / hope - her parents can see she's extremely sad, they aren't entirely sure about why or about of the details, but I think they're attentive, loving parents who aren't stupid and might have their suspicions).

Overall, then, when Harry and Ginny get back together after the war, I think the family both sort-of suspect there's been this thing coming on between them for a while, and, while they'd perhaps be surprised by the extent of it (there is literally no chill way to say 'hey I thought of your sister as I died!'), I think Molly, Arthur and the brothers would just be happy for them, with a few jokes and 👀 comments here and there. I don’t think they’d be angry at Harry for the breakup or sincerely over-protective and territorial over Ginny. They love Harry like a brother, they'd love the idea of him being formally part of the family one day, and they trust him implicitly.

Honestly, I think it makes sense that Ron was the one who would have by far the most extreme reaction to the breakup in particular, and even his response is reasonably mature. It's worth noting that it's actually only Ron and the twins that ever openly actually discuss and try to pry/interfere in Ginny's romantic life - the twins in HBP to take the piss a bit (in a slightly slut-shamey way - 'you're going through boyfriends a bit fast, aren't you?'), and Ron both during in the infamous fight over the Dean kiss and during his angry conversations with Harry post break-up. I think this is peak big-brother-to-Ginny-but-actually-little-brother-to-everyone-else energy, playing up overprotective. I don't think Bill, being eleven years older than Gin would at any point be that interested in policing Ginny's romantic life, I think Charlie truly would notice very little and care even less. Percy's got bigger fish to fry and other issues to wrangle with after the war, not to mention a whole relationship with both Ginny and Harry to mend. I think, at most, Harry and Ginny get a bit of teasing from her brothers but that's about it (my dumb headcanon is the first time they hear Harry call Ginny 'Gin' they're like... excuse me? Who the fuck is that?) I think actually protective big brother energy, from the likes of Bill, would mean worrying about the two of them in terms of public media scrutiny, which must be relentless, and about their long-term safety from reprisal attacks more than anything else.

I also think it’s clear that Harry really doesn’t care all that much what the rest of the Weasleys think lol, and certainly doesn't fear them. He does fear the loss of Ron's friendship in HBP (wrongly, because Ron is an OG Hinny shipper), but that’s a fear specifically about Ron’s reaction, not that of his wider family. In DH, Harry’s fully about to go hold Ginny for a bit in front of Molly with zero qualms, and the two of them hold hands in the vicinity of Order members and family members twice (once entering the hospital wing in HBP, and once at the Burrow) - not an especially declaratory gesture, but one that suggests they don’t hugely fear discovery. I think both of them would accept the need to be braced for mockery but basically trust the family not to be dicks about it. The important thing to remember is that canonically Ginny Weasley can and will hex you if you step out of line

#do i think the weasleys took the piss relentlessly for the rest of their lives? yes!#do i think they challenged harry to a duel to the death for ginny's honour? no i do not #played professional quidditch and married rich: ginny weasley bossed up and all her brothers know it #thanks anon i am buzzing that you reread my stuff and stressed about how many typos you must have come across #meta #hinny #the weasleys #ginny weasley #harry x ginny

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emeritusemeritus · 4 months

Text

No Good Deed. [George Weasley x Reader]

Title: No Good Deed. Part 1.

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. Tags will be updated with each chapter.

"How dare they! It's all I have left of him! I've already lost him once and now I have to lose him all over again?!"

You'd never seen George so angry as he stepped into the office, kicking a cardboard restore box under the table that stored this quarter's paperwork in sheer frustration. He tugged off his tie and ran his fingers through his flame red hair, trying to calm himself, his face downcast despite his anger. You silently stood in the doorway of the office, just observing him, not quite knowing what to say or how to comfort him after what had happened earlier that day in the meeting you'd both attended.

"Mr Weasley, there is one final notion on the mandate which must be discussed," the balding, sour-faced man says from the other side of the table, briefly looking up from his typed paperwork as he strains his neck once again, a habit you'd noticed him doing frequently during your hour long meeting which was thankfully coming to a close.

You'd accompanied George to a meeting with his investors in London, notetaking for him and assisting him with the figures that the investors required to see periodically throughout the year as per their contract. You'd always had an affinity for bookkeeping and had found your skills utilised upon employment at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes just after you left Hogwarts, immediately taken onboard by your childhood best friends Fred and George Weasley.

After Fred's death and the end of the war, funds had been low due to the long store closure despite their best efforts at an owl postage service and once George was ready to reopen the shop, he had needed to take on investors in order to get the money to replenish products and reopen the store, giving them shares in the company and the overall profits. Fortunately, the business had immediately boomed once again when the store reopened, only increasing in popularity and therefore profit when Hogwarts reopened and Diagon Alley bloomed with old and new shops opening seemingly every day. The investors were largely silent, providing money without any input to the business, proud to be associated with the more popular store in Diagon Alley, at least until today.

"It has come to our attention that you are providing services under a false pretence which we must discuss," another man says, much harder in his expression.

Your eyes flick to George who looks rightly offended and confused at the vague notion, seeing him shift in his seat somewhat uncomfortably.

"As there are no longer two of you, the name 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' is redundant, incorrect and therefore unmarketable as it stands. We propose that changes must be made to change the name to 'Weasley's', moving the apostrophe so that it denotes the true ownership. Mr Weasley, you have 30 days to make the necessary change or else our shares will be pulled and we will no longer be investing in your business."

The meeting had come to an abrupt end as the investors exited, leaving you with a seething George who had surprisingly held it together until you both apparated to the outside of the shop. You'd struggled to keep up with George as he bounded up the stairs towards the office, completely ignoring Ron and a few regular customers who had greeted him. You shot them apologetic smiles, wordlessly trying to excuse his uncharacteristic behaviour as you followed him to the office.

He threw down his jacket onto your chair as you entered behind him and immediately began tugging at his tie in frustration.

"I can't change the name! It was always me and Fred, I've already lost him once I can't lose him again, not like this," his tone was no longer filled with anger or rage but rather deep sadness and heartbreak at the thought. You closed your eyes for a moment, unable to watch any longer as his words hit you like a freight train, the pain overwhelming you not only at the mention of Fred but of George's evident sadness.

You hear him throw himself down into his chair and you open your eyes again to see him looking completely defeated as he clearly plays out his options in his mind to prevent this from happening.

"Ginny's about to become a Potter, Bill and Charlie aren't in the bloody country, Percy's… well, Percy and Ron can't join in as a co-owner, the deeds are in mine and Fred's name. Six, well, five siblings and not one of them can help. Unless there's a way of bringing Fred back through the bloody veil, which I've exhausted all options in my bloody mind believe me, then I'm fucked. Everything Fred and I built is ruined."

You watch as his long fingers run over his face, rubbing his eyes which you suspect are brimming with unshed tears judging by his emotion filled voice.

Your words flew out of you before you could even comprehend what you were saying, surprising even yourself for a moment.

"I'll marry you."

George looks utterly astounded by your words as his eyes shoot up to yours, confusion evident over every single one of his features as your words sink in.

"Eh?" His brief reply conveys every inch of perplexity that his features show and at any other time the look on his face would have made you double over with laughter.

"Angel, I don't think now's the time," he says with a gentle frown, clearly treading carefully with his words despite his confusion. You fight to get the words out to explain yourself, knowing that somewhere before your unexpected outburst there was solid reasoning in your mind.

"You need another Weasley and the only way you can override the shared deed is by entitlement, like by marriage," you say, moving forward to stand in front of him before taking a seat on his wooden desk. Your leg brushes against his as you hop up and you don't miss how his eyes briefly flicker to the point where your legs touched just for a second.

"I've seen it with my parents, when my mum and dad divorced she was entitled to the interest of his business as a matrimonial asset. We'd have to check if there's a time limit on that but with Fred gone, it's the only way you'd be able to get another shareholder in his place."

You were trying to keep your explanation simple, pulling from your firsthand experience in similar matters but as you fought to explain yourself, you found yourself rambling a little under George's intense gaze.

"If we got married you wouldn't have to change the name, I'd take your name and we'd both be Weasley by law, cancelling out their demands. You'd have to put me on the business documents but we could draw up some sort of contract that doesn't actually entitle me to any money or profit from the business, but they don't need to know that."

Your words hang in the air for a few moments, tense silence lingering between you as your words replay over and over in your mind, wondering if you'd gone too far and made things too awkward.

"I couldn't ask you to do that," George says quietly, averting his eyes.

"Georgie I'd do it for you without a second thought, it might be the only way you could keep the business exactly as it is," you say, reaching out to touch his shoulder, trying to urge him to listen to you.

He fell silent again for a few more tense moments and you could see the conflict on his face as he considered his options, allowing your proposal to sink in. He's quiet again when he replies and if anything he looks a little timid as he speaks.

"But you and Fred," he weakly argues, his words making your stomach lurch painfully. You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment. You hadn't considered this part, the mental and emotional conflict of your proposal. You and Fred had been something throughout your later school years and a little while after, but had never wanted to make anything official, a secret shared between you both that never allowed you to commit to each other.

"Are in the past," you unwillingly admit with a sad sigh, "Fred's gone, it's taken me a really long time to mostly accept it, but if this means keeping his memory alive just as it is then I'd do anything, for him and for you."

Things were a little awkward for a couple of days following your outburst and each time you saw or crossed paths with George you inwardly cringed. You'd shut yourself in the office most of the time, trying only to see him before store opening and packing up and rushing off just before close, ensuring you wouldn't have to spend any prolonged time together.

"I know you're avoiding me," A familiar voice behind you says as you gather your bag and mug off the desk just before the end of the day, 3 days after your outburst. You turn slowly and see him leaning on the door frame with a little knowing smirk on his face, though his eyes look sad. You bite your lip, knowing you'd been caught out and flick your eyes to your bag, to the clock on the wall and then back to George, not really knowing how to respond.

"It's okay, I understand," he says, taking a slow step into the office, "but there's no need to feel awkward, not with me, I don't take it personally that you regret offering."

"I don't regret it," you reply quickly with a frown, effectively cutting him off. Your words make his eyebrows shoot you a little in surprise, or maybe it was the conviction in your voice that surprised him. "I've been avoiding you because it's been painfully awkward to offer yourself like that and be rejected."

"I didn't reject you," he replies quickly but with a gentle tone, now cutting you off. Your eyes widen a little at the quickness of the reply and you can't help but look into his eyes, seeing his tongue poke out and wet his lip as he looks nervously back at you.

You both look at each other for a moment as a little tense silence falls and you both breathe out a chuckle at the awkwardness in the room.

"So to make it clear, I could still marry you?" He asks, walking forwards towards you.

"I think the agreement was that I'd marry you," you teased, smirk tugging at your lips which earned you a roll of his eyes. "But yes," you said, now with a more serious and honest tone. "My offer to get married is still very much open, for the sake of the business."

He stands before you and you crane your neck upwards towards his familiar height and there's an intimacy that passes between you both that had never existed before as you look at each other, communicating only with your eyes.

"Then I accept your proposal," George says, taking your hand mockingly and you gasp at him, pulling your hand away to smack his arm lightly.

"I didn't propose to you!"

"That's not what I'm going to tell our grandkids," he jokes, pulling you into a hug. You can't deny that even though his words were mocking, your tummy did a little nervous and excited flip at his words.

"Thank you, so much," he says as you pull apart, completely serious as he looks at you with such intensity if makes your knees a little weak. "This means so much to me."

"And me."

It was Saturday night and you'd invited George around to your flat after work, to talk over your agreement. You'd opened a bottle of wine and ordered a takeaway, a benefit of living in muggle London that you loved, and started writing out some plans to your agreement as you both sat on the sofa beside eachother, the coffee table littered with notebooks and paper.

"We should move in together, make it believable," George says, taking a sip of his wine. You look at him in surprise, not having expected those words to fall from his lips.

"Who are we trying to convince?" You ask, a little confused at how deep this was going.

"Oh yeah, right," he says, looking away, taking another sip of wine. You immediately felt a little bad seeing his apparent negative reaction to your words and considered his idea for a moment, thinking of the implications.

"Unless the investors ask for character references," you said, picking up your own glass. "I suppose it's possible, we'd have to tell your family wouldn't we."

George nods slowly, on the same wavelength as you.

"Would your family be able to lie if they were questioned?" You ask, looking up at George.

George snorts into his glass and shakes his head in reply, "About hiding Harry, yeah, about this? No way."

"Then we'll have to convince your family that we're actually married," you say, feeling a little uneasy at the thought of lying to the family you cared very deeply for. George made a vague noise of agreement and placed his empty glass down onto the coaster on the coffee table, smoothing the creases in his trousers out with his long fingers.

"How long would we have to be married for?" George asks with a frown and you can't help but feel a little stab in your chest at his words, as silly as it was.

"Oh I don't know, until the investors drop the demand? Or maybe get new investors?" You ask, placing a strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen into your face. George watches your every move and you can't help but stare back at him, seeing him paying close attention to you.

"How far away would we be from being able to do away with the investors? Business is good right, maybe I could cash in their shares and become sole owner," he says, flicking his eyes down to your work bag by the door, knowing that there's his accounting documents in there.

"Good idea," you say, placing down your glass and moving over to reach for your bag. You begin calculating the investors shares against the profits of the business and try and work out a timeline for how long it would take for George to earn the money to buy out the investors, assuming business stayed as good as it was now.

"Looks like two years, based on the projections," you say, placing down your pen. "If business stays at the rate it is, you'd be clear from all investors in just under two years."

"Is that, is that okay with you?" George says, looking up into your eyes, his voice suddenly quieter and a little more timid.

You smile at him and nod in reply, genuinely okay with that. "What about you?"

"Of course," he smiles, chuckling to himself a little as he picks at the tweed of his trousers, "you're doing me the biggest favour imaginable, I have the easy deal."

"You have to be married to me, I'd say that's not easy," you tease, picking up your glass and drinking the last sip of wine left.

"I don't know, I can think of many worse things than being married to you," he says with a grin, reaching out to refill both of your glasses. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest as you bite back a smile.

"I have to admit," George says, handing you back your glass, "I feel as if I'm treading on Fred's toes a little, he'd probably be conspiring to turn my eyebrows purple if he knew I was stealing his woman, that or he'd shave them off whilst I slept," he says with a laugh. You chuckle, picturing the scene in your mind but it doesn't stop the little pang of sadness running through you. You wanted to tell George the whole truth but you couldn't, especially not now and so you simply allowed yourself to laugh and took another sip of wine.

"He'd understand," you say, perhaps a little quietly as you try to tell yourself that it was the truth, trying to justify your actions in your mind. George makes a sound of agreement and just as his glass reaches his lips, the buzzer rings out alerting you that the food had arrived.

"So, we have to convince your family that we're getting married, without dating beforehand?" You say, both of you still chatting as you eat your Chinese food. At this point you were feeling a little buzzed from the wine and everything felt a little easier to get out, the hesitation and trepidation of your words no longer bothering you.

"Good point, though we've always been really close so I don't think they'd think it was too out of the ordinary," George says, taking a huge bite of fried rice. "Did anyone know about you and Fred?"

"I don't think so," you replied, thinking of all the time you'd spent at the Burrow and of each family member, "I think Ginny had her suspicions but she never asked me about it. Thank god you were identical, we could always lie and say it was you if anyone did notice something," you chuckled, earning an enthusiastic laugh from George.

"How do we explain the divorce though?" You asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence, your thoughts drifting into all possible outcomes. "I don't want to lose your family because I become your horrible ex-wife," you say, feeling sad about the potential of that.

"You'd never be horrible, not to me and not to them," George says, reaching out to touch your hand. "We could always say we were just better off as friends? That marriage was too constricting for both of us? That way no ones to blame."

"Yeah that could work," you say, feeling a weird sense of sadness at the concept of divorcing George.

"On a serious note though," he says, temporarily placing down his cutlery as he looks at you, his eyes staring intensely into yours. "If you don't want to do this, I completely understand. It's asking too much of you and I'm very aware of that. It would mean no open dating or seeing anyone else until everything was over," he says carefully. You hadn't really considered that but it was a price you were willing to pay. The fact that George had said no open dating had made you feel a little off, knowing he intended to still date even though you were married, which of course was normal in the circumstances but it still made you feel a little funny.

"You'd still want to date?" You asked, the words falling from your lips before you could stop them, immediately mentally cursing the wine you'd drank that had apparently released your filter.

"Merlin no," he says with a little self deprecating chuckle, "I meant for you."

"I don't want to," you said, perhaps a little too quickly as it earned you a confused flicker of a look from George. "I mean, everyone would think I was cheating on you and I couldn't do that, not to you."

He seems to understand as he nods his head, once again picking up his fork and loading it up with the food.

"We can cross that bridge when we come to it," he says, with a determination in his voice that seemed to settle your anxious thoughts. "So, I suppose we really should move in together."

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#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #george weasley masterlist #George Weasley #George Weasley x you #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley smut

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dreamcubed · 11 months

Text

london boy | fred weasley x reader

song; london boy [taylor swift] pairing; fred weasley x fem!american!thunderbird!reader genre; s2l, fluff word count; 3,1k timeline; post-second wizarding war au (fred lives) warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption summary; after taking the plunge and moving across the world, you are unsure of how to form a new social circle and support system. it appears there was no need to worry, as you soon meet a charming man who runs a joke shop with his twin brother

a/n; this was actually suggested by an anon! sorry it took a couple months to write

masterlist

"babe, don't threaten me with a good time."

———————————————

The Second Wizarding War, while primarily occurring in battles throughout the United Kingdom, was something that had put the global wizarding world at stake. The United States were no exception, and as a recent graduate of Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you decided to wander across the pond to the country where the liberty of witches and wizards was saved. That, and you had no other plans for the course of your life.

You worked for the first year after your graduation in order to save up money for the move, but you were pleased to say you had finally stepped foot in England: specifically, Diagon Alley.

It was where you had managed to rent a small flat from, as arranged thanks to your mother having connections in the area as a result of her travels back in the day. You were beyond excited to meet new people and settle into a new life.

But you did need a job.

Your savings would suffice for a few months, which would hopefully give you sufficient time to secure an income - key word, hopefully. First on the agenda, however, was exploring your new local area to see if you could make new friends early doors.

And so you found yourself stood outside a completely buzzing joke shop, after visiting the local bakery and book shop. The name of shop was written in gold: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Chadwick, that was a tongue twister - fitting, you supposed.

You pushed open the door to be greeted by both the bell tinkling above you and the sound of laughing children (and even adults) in all corners of the establishment. A smile pulled its way on to your face as you began walking towards the nearest display table, covered in enchanted prank items. You picked up what appeared to be a normal whoopie cushion, and began examining it.

"Looks normal, but is in fact quite the opposite," a British voice in your left ear caught you off guard, making you quickly turn to be greeted by a tall ginger-haired man, "First of all, it camouflages once it's set down, so anyone who's smart enough to check their seats before sitting down can't catch you out."

You stared blankly at the man.

"Second, it doesn't just make a fart sound, it produces the whole package," he grinned, "A hyper realistic fart smell - and even a greenish smoke if the person sits down with a lot of force."

You came to your senses and smiled, putting the cushion delicately back down. "I'm guessing you're Weasley?"

"One of them," he nodded, "There's two others - one of them fresh out of Hogwarts."

You hummed.

"And I was gonna ask why I don't recognise you from school, but I think your accent gives me the answer."

"Yep, I'm an Ilvermorny grad."

"First time in Britain?"

You nodded, "So far, I love it."

He grimaced, "Depends where you go, Diagon Alley gives you an idealistic impression. How long you here for?"

"Indefinitely."

"Oh?" he quirked an eyebrow, "You're living here?"

"As of today," you smiled, "Y/N. Y/N L/N."

"Fred Weasley," he replied, "Allow me to be your first friend in this foreign country."

You giggled at his feigned poshness.

"What are your plans for work?" he asked, beginning to walk away. Instinctively, you began following him.

You shrugged, "I don't know. Haven't thought that far ahead."

"Oh?"

"I have some money saved while I settle in and find a job."

"That's good," he nodded.

"Have you always wanted to run a joke shop?" you asked.

"Oh, yeah. Always," he said with a smile, "Me and my twin brother, George, have loved pranks since we were kids."

You raised an eyebrow, "Twin?"

"Identical - well, used to be. He has a missing ear now so no one ever mixes us up anymore. Sad, really."

You didn't have to ask how he lost the ear.

"Our younger brother, Ron, decided to join us too. Although I don't think it's a childhood dream of his."

"How many siblings do you have?"

"Six."

Your eyes widened, "Six?"

"Five brothers, one sister."

"Your poor sister."

"Well, she's not doing too bad for herself. She's just starting her quidditch career and she's dating none other than Harry Potter so," he shrugged.

"You know Harry Potter?"

He laughed, "Well, I went to school with him, so yeah. Although I suppose I am a bit closer than normal as Ron's his best mate and my sister's dating him. He actually helped fund the start of this very establishment."

"That's cool."

Fred beamed at you, "Wanna grab a coffee after my shift?"

***

"So, yeah, that's how I ended up losing my virginity to a no-maj," you finished off, sipping on your piccolo, "Poor guy doesn't know he lost his to a witch."

"How do you know it was his first time?" Fred chuckled, sat opposite you, having been intently listening to the story.

"Because he started crying afterwards saying how God was never gonna forgive him for not saving himself for marriage," you said through stifled laughter.

By this point, Fred was practically cackling.

"Honestly, I took it as a compliment. I'm sexy enough to get a guy to suspend his beliefs for a couple hours."

"Not surprised about that," he gave the slightest of smirks to you.

You stopped laughing, suddenly feeling flushed and embarrassed.

"You told a guy you just met how you lost your virginity and only now you get shy?"

You scoffed, "I didn't realise there were rules around when I'm allowed to get shy."

Fred shrugged, "There should be- by that I mean, you should have to do it more. You're cute when you're shy."

You couldn't help your lips from stretching into a grin.

"Oh, shit, is that the time?"

"What?"

"I agreed to meet some of my brothers and friends for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Oh-"

"Wanna come?" he quickly asked.

You frowned, "I don't wanna intrude."

"Don't be silly, I grew up on a 'the more, the merrier' policy."

"Well, if you're sure- fuck it."

***

"Fred, there you are!" a voice rang out from the bar, where a group of guys were gathered.

"Where you been, mate?" a man identical to Fred (save for a missing ear) said.

"If you'd been at the shop today, you'd know."

George, the name you remembered from Fred's many stories, laughed, "I'm just teasing. Ron told me," he nodded his head towards one of the other ginger men in the group. That was when he turned to look at you. "So, you're the mysterious lady Freddie disappeared off with."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N."

"Ooh, accent!" the man who had initially called out to you both said.

"Alright, alright. Y/N, that's Lee there, this is my twin, George- obviously. Over there is Ron, Wood, and one of my older brothers, Bill."

They all greeted you.

"So, where in America you from?" Bill asked.

***

Some way, some how, many firewhiskeys later you found yourself laughing your ass off with a bunch of guys you had only met a few hours ago. You were drunker than the rest of them, that was for sure, as despite US drinking laws not having stopped you from drinking to drunkenness before, they still meant you had had less opportunity to do so. Thus, your tolerance wasn't good.

At some point during the evening, your group had migrated from the bar to a larger table in the corner, where you sat with Fred's arm around you.

"Oh, come on, Ron, you have to admit it's a little ironic that your girlfriend is on her way to be the next Minister of Magic meanwhile you run a joke shop," George said through wheezes.

Ron's expression suddenly went solemn, "How could you say that to me?"

Everyone went silent for a few moments, until Ron erupted in laughter again with everyone else swiftly following. You found it even funnier that the jokes weren't actually funny anymore: you all were just plastered.

As the laughter died down again, you turned to Fred at your side, "I like your friends."

"Better not like 'em more than me," he said, "I know it's only been a day but I'd like to think I've already called dibs on you."

"Called dibs on me?"

"Yeah, well, dibs on being the first British guy you date."

You grinned, "That's up to you to make it happen, London boy."

"I'm not even from London," he retorted.

"Eh, tomato, tomato."

***

How things ended up well past midnight with you stumbling down Diagon Alley, a red headed man helping support your weight, and an unhealthy amount of alcohol in your system - you didn't know. All you knew is that you had learned so much about the man in the last several hours that you felt very comfortable with him.

"Okay, love, is this your flat?"

"Yeah, that's the one," you slurred, moving towards the stairs that led up the side.

"Woah, hold up there, pretty girl," he said, quickly aiding you so you didn't trip and break your face, "You shoulda told us you were a lightweight. We wouldn'ta ordered you so many."

You grumbled, but didn't say anything in response, instead fumbling around in your pockets for your keys.

"Fred, I can't find them," you whined.

He pulled out his wand, "Alohamora." The door clicked open. "I see you haven't put an anti-unlocking charm on your flat yet."

"I literally just moved in."

"I feel like it's a first priority."

You didn't reply, instead tumbling forward into your new small home. Again, Fred steadied your weight, chuckling to himself in the process.

"You need to get to bed."

After helping you get your shoes off, Fred walked you to your bedroom and watched in amusement as you collapsed on to the mattress.

"You all good from here, sweetheart?"

You hummed softly, "Thank you, Freddie."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, "If you're not too hungover, stop by the shop tomorrow. I can set you up with a job."

"Really?"

"Of course. I have a sneaky feeling you're gonna be in my life for a while."

You giggled, "Me too."

"Alright, I'll see you. Take care."

"You too-" you yawned, "-Freddie."

***

It was mid-afternoon by the time you made it to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, still nursing a hangover but feeling better after a long shower, a painkilling potion and a big glass of a fizzy non-alcoholic drink.

"Oh, good, you're here," Fred opened the door, seeing as the shop was in fact shut. They functioned on weekend days of Monday and Tuesday since Saturday and Sunday were prime business days. (Apart from in the lead up to school starting again, as George explained in detail to you the night prior how they couldn't miss out on any day of the week when Diagon Alley was swarmed with kids.)

"You seem perkier than me," you grumbled, entering the unusually quiet store.

"I didn't get nearly as drunk as you," he reminded, walking towards the back room, "Anyway, I assume you're here for the job?"

You nodded, "That... and to see you."

He gave you a soft smile at that, "You're always welcome."

"You literally met me yesterday."

"What? Were you too drunk to remember what I said last night?"

You suppressed a smile, "No."

"Then you know. Call it divine intuition if you will but you're gonna be around for a while."

"I certainly don't plan on leaving," you replied, following him into the office area.

"Well, let's set you up for a job here then."

"It's really nice of you to do this."

He winked at you, "I don't do favours for free."

"What do you want in return?" you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Another date."

You grinned, "I think I could agree to those terms."

***

Not even a week later, you and Fred were walking down Diagon Alley, ready to go out for lunch for your second date. An hour ago, the sun had been shining brightly in the sky, warming your exposed skin. Now, the shimmery blues had been veiled by a thick layer of dark grey clouds, casting a shadow over the bustling street. You heard Fred, a normally cheerfully optimistic man (as you had quickly learned), let out a sigh.

"Looks like the forecast has taken a turn," just as he finished his sentence, droplets began cascading down from above, growing in intensity by the second.

You couldn't help but giggle slightly.

"Doesn't this bother you?"

You laughed harder, "No. I like it."

Fred smiled at you, "Really? A rainy date?"

You shrugged, "Don't threaten me with a good time."

"Well, okay, then."

He held out his hand to you, and you took it, letting him twirl you around before you both continued walking in the direction of the café he had in mind.

"Your smile is so pretty," he commented after some moments of delicate silence.

You couldn't help but beam at his words, "Really?"

He hummed, "I could look at it for the rest of my life."

In your chest, your heart was performing somersaults like a circus acrobat, and it was making you feel giddy. This was the most alive you had ever felt and you never wanted to let it go.

"Do it then," you replied, "Nothing's stopping you."

He stopped in his tracks, forcing you to halt as well since your hand remained interlocked with his.

"What?" you asked, looking back at him from your position one step forward.

"Can I?" he spoke with a soft gaze, the usual mischievous glint absent.

"Can you what?"

"Look at your smile forever?"

You shrugged limply, "If you can make me smile forever, sure."

"Can I say something crazy?"

"I would expect nothing less from you."

"I kinda want to marry you."

"Kinda?" you raised an eyebrow, feeling the swarm of butterflies spinning in your stomach but remaining calm and collected on the outside.

"I know we only met a week ago, but what would you say if I asked?"

"Guess you'll have to learn the hard way," you gave him a cheeky grin.

"Okay," he said, and it was only then you realised that the rain had caused the street to clear out of most people. Your eyes widened as he got down on one knee, still holding your hand. Suddenly, you could no longer feel your wet hair clinging to your face, nor your damp clothes sticking to your skin. Not because they had dried, but because all your focus was elsewhere.

You were pretty sure you had forgotten how to breathe.

"Y/N, in the short time I've known you, which is admittedly very short, I have had so much fun," he began, "And as I said right at the beginning, I have a feeling that you're gonna be around a while, it's why I even came over to talk to you the first time you entered my shop- I felt drawn to you. And, well, I'm known for my impulsive decisions, but they've all worked out so far, so, I have no reason not to act on this one too," he took a deep breath, "I don't have a ring right now, but will you marry me?"

You stood, stunned. You hadn't thought he would actually propose to you.

"Don't feel pressured to say yes," he quickly added, making you snap out of your daze.

You shook your head, "Yes- I'll marry you, Freddie."

The man's face lit up as he zoomed to his feet and picked you up, spinning you around as your lips touched each other's for the first time. You couldn't believe it: Fred Weasley was now your fiancé, when he was never even your boyfriend.

"Now, what say we go get some food to celebrate?" he asked.

"Sounds good to me."

***

THREE YEARS LATER.

***

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the officiator called out, "You may kiss the bride."

You watched from the crowd as Ron pressed his lips to Hermione's, joining the rest of the audience with the applauding.

"This is a lot grander than our wedding," Fred leaned down to whisper in your ear.

You laughed gently, "Ours was a much more last minute affair, Freddie."

"Mm, how long was our engagement again?"

"Three weeks," you reminded, "The courting only lasted a week too."

"What can I say? I'm a man who knows what I want."

You shook your head with a smile, picking up the applause again as Hermione and Ron began posing for photos from the photographer.

"Oh, they're calling us up now," Fred said, grabbing your hand and pulling you up to the altar with him. All of the Weasley siblings and their partners were also en route to where the newly weds were.

As you took your position in the photograph with Fred's arm wrapped around you, he leaned down to whisper in your ear yet again.

"Can I just say, my love, you look absolutely gorgeous- as always."

Your bright smile was one of the most genuine in the photograph, as Hermione later commented, and in response to that Fred had immediately taken a copy for your own house.

"What?" he had said when you raised an eyebrow at him, "I told you, I want to stare at your smile forever."

You chuckled.

"And you said I can, provided I make you smile."

You hummed, recalling the conversation that led up to his impromptu proposal fondly.

"And correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm the one that made you smile in this photo."

Unable to argue with him, you gazed at the moving photograph of Fred turning his head away from your ear to smile at the camera. It hadn't quite captured the moment in which he complimented your looks, but it didn't need to, as you knew that you would never forget the context for the image.

Not when your smile really did shine so brightly in it.

—————————————————

masterlist

written; 19/04/2023 —> 31/05/2023 published; 31/05/2023 edited; —/—/——

taglist ; @workinatdapyramid @iluvweasleys

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fadingsnow · 1 year

Text

MASTERLIST AND ABOUT ME - welcome to the iron throne's residence

divider credits : @cafekitsune

ABOUT ME: You can call me Mel :)! I'm a girl who loves to write on anything I like. HUGEE fan of CAOS for literal years. Never hesistate to reach out to me! You can request anything as long it's in these fandoms:

THE CHILLING ADVENTURES OF SABRINA, LOCKWOOD AND CO, HOUSE OF THE DRAGON, GAME OF THRONES, SHADOW AND BONE, WARRIOR NUN, DOMINA, THE LAST KINGDOM, THE SANDMAN, THE SUMMER I TURNED PRETTY, HARRY POTTER, THE GREAT, KARATE KID AND COBRAI KAI, HUNGER GAMES or others if I've watched them!

REQUESTING RULES : I'm not comfortable writing gore, etc. Anything that's really typical violence.

GOT UNIVERSE

AEGON

power is power, pt 1 pt 2

love me harder

"would you fancy to sleep with me tonight, in my bed?” “only if we cuddle.”

round 2?

aegon targaryen cuddling headcanons

comfort (short)

my heart will never feel, never feel, never see (my heart, then it falls)

AEMOND

power is power, pt 1 pt 2

being aemond and helaena's lover headcannons

if our love died, would that be the worst thing?

willow

HELAENA

being aemond and helaena's lover headcannons

RHAENYRA

my perzītsos

being yandere! rhaenyra and yandere! alicent's lover headcannons

ALICENT

being yandere! rhaenyra and yandere! alicent's lover headcannons

DAENERYS

falling in love with you

LUCERYS VELARYON

if i k*lled someone for you

poison

modern bf headcannons

CREGAN STARK

cuddling headcanons

MYSARIA

bloodline

SANSA STARK

nice closet

PERCY JACKSON UNIVERSE

PERCY JACKSON

werewun semachelew

CAOS UNIVERSE

SABRINA SPELLMAN

"You're only supposed to start missing things after you've said goodbye to them, right?"

the first date

THE SANDMAN UNIVERSE

DREAM

the dreaming

midnight swim

DOMINA UNIVERSE

GAUIS

manipulation headcannons

HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE

FRED WEASLEY

i'll spend her love

HUNGER GAMES

CORIOLANUS SNOW

give me tough love

in the end, it's him and i

no, don't stay quiet

g-genius

time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me

love me harder

cardigan, pt. 2 - london boy

christmas burrito

dress

afterglow

snowman

new girl

and then she made my lips turn

#house of the dragon #make this go viral #hotd #hotd x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #alicent hightower x reader #Spotify

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cl-01-kestis · 1 year

Text

Come Back, I Always Do - Fred Weasley x Female Ex!Reader | Part 1

Summary: You break up with Fred Weasley after being accepted into a school overseas. Things are going well after you’re sent back to Britain 6 years after to work in Hogwarts, but you soon realise your story with him isn’t quite finished like you imagined.

Warnings: slow burn, angst, break ups, everyone lives AU, reader is muggle-born

Part 2

You still remembered the day you left Fred Weasley, the two of you were sitting inside a small muggle cafe not far from Kings Cross, silent and scared to speak.

He knew it was coming, he often heard you speaking of your desire to work overseas and specialise in Magizoology. He loved hearing you speak about your plans for the future, but he feared the day it would come true.

Fred sat with tear stained cheeks over an untouched americano as he watched you explain your situation, showing him your acceptance letter into a magic university in New York. He was speechless, smiling through his tears as he read through the letter. But his heart was ready to cave in, he couldn’t process that it was all coming true.

The two of you nearly died in the battle of Hogwarts, although you were closer to death than he was. He and Molly held you in their arms as they tried to shake you awake, his cries being the only thing anyone heard in the great hall. He thought you had died, your body was so cold and still. But his mother managed to bring you back into consciousness with some form of unknown magic.

Yet here you were, leaving him again. Just when he thought he was safe, just when he thought you could both finally settle down, you were slipping through his fingers. You gave him a necklace which you wore everyday, marking a reminder of your love for him. Fred wanted to refuse it, angry that you couldn’t stay. But he couldn’t say no to you, especially when you were just as upset as he was.

You left him sitting alone in the cafe, trying not to sob on your way out as you clutched your acceptance letter tight.

Your parents comforted you when you returned home, knowing how difficult the situation was for you. Fred was your world, but there was no way he could come with you, and you couldn’t stay. They both helped you pack your things when the time came, all the books and endless magical necessities took a while to cram in, but you eventually managed.

New York was unlike anything you had ever experienced, it was busier than London, the people were somewhat the same, but you were completely alone with no one to support you. You wished Fred was there the whole time, trying not to get emotional when he popped up into your mind at any given moment.

When you unpacked your things in your dorm, you only realised that your mother had packed an old letter from Fred when you were both still in high school. You hung the letter up on your wall beside a bunch of other photos with your friends and family back home, wanting to remind yourself of what you once had.

Your degree took 5 years to complete, but the years felt like they went by quicker than you could cast a spell. One second you were starting your first lecture, the next you were graduating as a qualified magizoologist.

It wasn’t long before the job offers started piling in, most were in America but one job in particular caught your eye. To your delight and surprise, Hogwarts was in search of an advanced Magizooligist teacher. You remember there wasn’t a teacher for that subject when you studied there, so there must’ve been a high request from students for a new and more experienced Magizoologist.

So you applied for the job as soon as possible, packing what was necessary for the interview in Scotland. Albus called off the job for anyone else as soon as he saw that you had applied. He didn’t want to put you through an interview, he had to since it was protocol, but he knew you were perfectly capable of teaching at Hogwarts. When he read your resume alongside Minerva, the two of them knew you’d be the perfect fit.

The interview was very comfortable, McGonagall was the one asking you the questions but she had a bright smile on her face the entire time. She was delighted to have you back in Hogwarts, regardless if you got the job or not.

To no one’s surprise, you aced the interview with flying colours and you were offered your own place to stay in Hogwarts. You called your parents and told them the news, the both of them were teary and excited beyond measure, inviting you out for a celebratory meal as a result.

One week later you were leaving your old apartment in New York and moving to Hogwarts. You were shown to your new classroom which had been unused for quite some time and spent hours decorating it with McGonagall and a few helpful elf’s. You made it feel like home rather than a classroom, setting up a kettle and teabags in the corner as well as a few candles and cushions. You set up your surgical tools by your desk, also bringing in different medicines, ready for display to the advanced students. For the younger students, you made simple diagrams of different magic animals and even set up a fun quiz for them to partake. You were having so much fun and school hadn’t even started yet.

News had broke out that a new teacher had arrived at Hogwarts, it even made it to the daily prophet, displayed within a small article on the front page. It just so happened that Arthur Weasley was reading it on a Sunday afternoon, the majority of his kids out tie house, when all of a sudden he spotted an oddly familiar name. He asked Molly where he had heard the name before but his thoughts were cut off when his wife let out a loud scream, snatching the newspaper from his hands as he looked at her worriedly.

The short woman smiled widely, calling on Ron who was currently visiting with Hermione, now his fiancé. The two of them ran into the kitchen with concerned expressions, until they realised no one was in danger.

“Mum, what’s the screaming for?!” Ron groaned, splaying his arms out before crossing them over his chest. Hermione let out a soft chuckle and curiously peeked at the newspaper in her soon-to-be mother in law’s hands.

“(Y/N) (S/N) is the new magizoology teacher at Hogwarts!” Molly yelled excitedly, turning the paper around and pointing to the small article underneath the large heading of a different subject. Ron and Hermione looked at each other in surprise, the both of them smiling. But Ron found his smile leaving his face, looking at his mum.

“Do you think Fred knows?” His voice was quiet, remembering the downfall of your relationship from 6 years ago. Hermione’s smile dropped off too, and so did Mollies and Arthur’s. Everyone went silent, until Molly cleared her throat and smiled sadly.

“He never reads the news, maybe it’s best we don’t tell him” She patted Ron on the shoulder, handing the newspaper back to her husband who decided to read the rest of your article, sipping his cup of coffee as Molly lead her son and his fiancée into the living room.

“Maybe we should invite her to the wedding? She’s still an old family friend, she was always there for Ron, Harry and I during high school” Hermione reasoned with the mother and son, but Molly wasn’t sure. Fred was distraught after you left, he went to his mother almost every night for closure, wanting to know he did a good job as your boyfriend. Molly remembers his drop in happiness and fulfilment, she remembers George fearing for his health nearly everyday. If he saw you now, Molly wasn’t sure how he’d react. The two of you would absolutely see each other if you were both invited to the wedding, but it wasn’t her decision to invite you. It was Ron and Hermione’s.

“If you invite her, please take note that not everything will go as planned. Their breakup was devastating for the both of them, they might still need time away from each other” Molly whispered, aware of the other kids in the house. George and Ginny were visiting briefly, the two of them up in their own bedrooms, but Molly couldn’t risk either of them hearing, especially George.

“We’ll have a think about it, thanks mum” Ron smiled warmly towards Molly, assuring her as she nodded her head and headed back into the kitchen. Hermione tugged Ron’s jumper, looking at him with bright eyes.

“We need to invite her” She muttered quietly, taking his hand into her own.

“I know, but should we really?” Ron pressed a kiss to her knuckle, unable to resist showering her with affection every minute.

“If we put aside Fred, we should still invite her, you know how much she did for us in high school” Mione reasoned, making sure her tone wasn’t too loud in case anyone upstairs was nosing around.

“Maybe you’re right” Ron sighed, looking at his fiancée’s small engagement ring which gleamed brightly under the candlelight of the living room.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs” Hermione kissed his cheek, beckoning him back to their room as he grumbled to himself.

Term had finally started. There was a particular buzz emitting around the students, desperate to meet their new Magizoology teacher. You were blissful and content about your new job, your skin humming with nervous anticipation. You weren’t sure how the students would react to you, you hoped they felt comfortable and attentive to your teaching. You didn’t wear any formal teaching uniform, you felt like Magizoology wasn’t the type of subject to mingle well with formal wear. So you opted for a jumper and jeans, your wand slipped haphazard in your back pocket.

As you were teaching during your second week at Hogwarts, explaining the primary organs of a Chimera, Mrs McGonagall slipped through the door to hand you a small letter with a wax stamp. You thanked her and slipped it into your drawer, continuing to teach as you sat on your desk. After you finished your lectures to the 6th years, you gave them a small surprise quiz about various medicines to treat magic creatures. You heard a few groans echo around the class, but that didn’t deter you from handing them out.

As the students sat their quiz, you opened up the mysterious envelope from your drawer. You slipped out the letter as quietly as possible, eyes scanning the impressively fancy calligraphy at the top. Your heart couldn’t help but drop when you read the heading, eyes unblinking as you read over the two names displayed on the letter.

‘Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger invite you to their wedding at The Burrow on the 1st of October with friends and family’

You wanted to throw up, not because of the wedding but because you hadn’t heard the name Weasley in almost 7 years. You didn’t even feel worthy of going to their wedding, you felt like you needed to phone them and talk things through.

Contact details and the address were at the bottom of the letter, Hermione’s being the first one. You excused yourself from the class, knowing the call wouldn’t take long and the quiz wouldn’t finish for another hour, and ran to your room to fetch your telephone. You stood out into the hallway, nearby the window so your service didn’t drop as you dialled Hermione’s number.

It rang for a solid 30 seconds, each ring making you feel more and more thinned out. But to your relief, she finally answered with a short and casual ‘hello?’.

“Hermione, it’s (Y/N)” You called her name with a smile, one of your hands pressed against your chest as you tried to suppress your anxiety.

“(Y/N)?! Merlin’s beard you have no idea how good it is to hear from you! I’m assuming you got the letter?” Hermione was ecstatic as she spoke to you, yet you couldn’t help but think she also sounded rather nervous.

“I did indeed, but I just want to ask why?” You look out into the breathtaking scenery of the highlands through the glass, holding onto the stone window ledge as you patiently waited for her response.

“Well… we realised you were back from New York after seeing you in the papers, so we thought we might as well ask” Hermione’s voice was hopeful, she felt awkward explaining why she invited you but she was sure you understood.

“I see, and who’s we?” You ask, a hint of worry in your tone. Hermione paused, taking in your question and realising what you meant.

“Just me and Ron, Molly and Arthur know as well but they’re leaving the situation to us” The young witch assured. Your eyes grew cloudy when you heard Hermione mention Molly and Arthur, they were practically your family at a point in your life, now they’re strangers, it stung much worse than you anticipated.

“You sure you want me at the wedding? I mean, heaven forbid you know who sees me, Mione, he would never recover” You argue calmly, chewing your bottom lip as your hand anxiously tapped against the stone ledge.

“Is it really that bad to say his name? He’s not voldemort, (Y/N)” Hermione scoffed with a grin, but you couldn’t feel amused, you couldn’t think of his name without wanting to cry.

“I know, it’s hard enough to think about him” You admit, straying away from the window and back to your living quarters. Hermione went silent at the other end of the phone, almost as if she was sad to hear you say such a thing and didn’t know how to respond. You couldn’t blame her.

“If you go, I’ll do my best to make sure you stay away from each other, all of us will if that’s what you want” She suggested.

“Don’t be silly, it’s your wedding day, you shouldn’t be worrying about me,” You groan. “Plus I haven’t seen you in 6 years, I’m not even sure I’m close enough to attend” There was something sorrowful laced in your tone. Hermione gasped and frowned on the other side of the line.

“You are closer than most of the attendees, (Y/N), aside from your connection to the Weasley’s, you helped us more than anyone else did in high school, you certainly helped me learn a thing or two” The brunette vouched for you strongly.

“Still, maybe not everyone will agree.”

“Well there’s only one way to find out” She raised a brow, and you had no other choice but to roll your eyes and chuckle softly to yourself.

“What time does the reception start?” You smile.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#x reader #harry potter x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you

252 notes · View notes

unofficial-writing · 15 days

Text

She calls me Freddie (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Warnings: None really, fluff and a little banter, implications that your normal hair color isn’t red (sorry to my beautiful redheads)

Summary: The Tri-wizard tournament is announced and entering doesn’t go to plan

Word count: 4.9k

(Part 2 - Find all other parts here!)

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The next week turned out to be pretty uneventful for you. After you all recovered from what happened at the game you started to use quidditch as your pastime. You, Harry, Ron, the twins, Ginny, and even Hermione practiced behind the burrow. Ginny had begun to take an interest in being a chaser so you showed her just about everything you know, having been one for the Gryffindor team for most of your years at Hogwarts. You played most days leading up to school and on the following Thursday you all traveled to the station in London.

“Did he find a compartment?” You asked George, who you were following through the train. Your luggage was already loaded, leaving you to carry your wand and one of your smaller bags.

“Fred said he found an empty one up here,” He started, peering into each compartment as he passed, looking for his brother. The boy stopped abruptly once he spotted him, which made you trip over his feet. “Aha.” He let out casually, as if he didn’t just have to save you from face-planting.

“Finally. I didn’t know how much longer I could fight of these kids.” Fred complained as you stepped into the little room. He sat by the window with Ginny across from him, who rolled her eyes at her brother.

“It was one first year. And the kid looked terrified.” Ginny told you and George while you hoisted your bag onto the rack above the seats. You gave Fred a look.

“Fred, you did not chase away a first year!”

“Oh no, he didn’t.” Ginny defended him. “He actually offered for him to sit with us but the poor kid ran off.”

George broke into laughter and Fred sighed, crossing his arms. You sat down beside him, fitting yourself into the space between him and the window. It was small enough that he had to scoot over so you wouldn’t be in his lap, which he did so without question.

You patted his knee to comfort him. “We can’t all be good with kids, babe.” You told him casually. The other two Weasleys glanced at you when you said this, but neither you nor Fred treated it any differently so they moved on.

“It was probably just the kid’s first day and he didn’t want to sit with a sixth year he didn’t know.” George stated, sitting down once he put his couple of bags up. Fred just shook his head and moved on.

The rest of the train ride went by quickly, spent with carefree talk and conversations about nothing important. Soon the clear skies of the morning began to turn grey and by the time you arrived at Hogwarts, the clouds were much darker and threatened to drop rain on the school.

Still dry for now, you entered the courtyard in awe of the castle as always. It was now your sixth year here and you were still taken by the school. Raindrops finally began to fall, so you stepped under the covered walkway.

Fred tugged your sleeve to get your attention and when you looked up at him, his eyes were looking out onto the lake. “What is it?” You asked him, stepping toward the stone opening to see better. Out on the water, a huge ship sprouted up f on the lake, water draining from it as it lifted above the surface.

“I’ve never seen that before.” You admitted. Ginny hurried beside you to get a look as well, but gasps from the other students drew you to the opposite side of the walkway. There you caught sight of a huge carriage coming in from above, drawn by several winged horses.

“Who do you suppose they are?” Ginny asked as they landed, guided in by Hagrid. They ducked just out of view as they touched the ground.

“I imagine we won’t have to wait long find out.” You said, turning from the spot where they disappeared to see the students flowing into the castle. Everyone filed into the great hall to find a seat. You sat down beside Angelina Johnson, who gave you a huge smile upon seeing you.

“Angie!” You exclaimed, giving her a tight hug. Fred sat down beside you and George across. He gave Angelina an almost timid smile.

“Hey, Angelina.” George greeted. You’d rarely seen George look so nervous. Angelina, of course, gave her smile out to him and asked about his summer, which got them talking less awkwardly. You and Fred exchanged a look, sharing the exact same thought.

The room filled with laughing and cheering as friends were reunited for the year, Gryffindor being the loudest as usual. By the time Dumbledore stepped up to his podium, your stomach ached from laughter. It took his loud voice to silence the hall and once the noise had subsided, he started his beginning of the year speech.

“Now that we’re all settled and sorted, I’d like to make an announcement.” He addressed the students. Fred twirled a piece of your hair to distract you and earned an elbow to the arm, which didn’t stop him. “This castle will not only be your home this year but home to some very special guests as well. You see, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event. The Tri-wizard tournament.”

You had heard of it before but you hadn’t been to Hogwarts long enough to see one take place. And certainly not to see one take place here.

“Now for those of you who do not know, The Tri-wizard tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. For each school a single student is selected to compete.” Dumbledore continued to explain. This had everyone paying attention, as most of your group especially was interested. You leaned an arm onto the table.

“But let me be clear.” The professor paused briefly to scan the room. “If chosen, you stand alone. And trust me when I say these contests are not for the faint-hearted.” He said ominously and then suddenly flipped a switch and took on a light-hearted expression.

“But more of that later,” he continued. “For now please welcome the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons school of magic!” On cue the doors opened on the opposite side of the hall, having everyone’s head suddenly turn in that direction.

In came a group of girls mostly a little older than you, all in matching blue uniforms with their hair tied neatly behind their backs. They strode through the room elegantly catching nearly every eye, especially from the boys. “Bloody hell.” Ron said. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Behind the girls came an extremely tall woman, probably even taller than Hagrid. “Blimey, that’s one big woman.” Seamus Finnigan said, a few seats down from you. Dumbledore had to reach up to take her arm, guiding her to her seat. The entire hall whistled and applauded except for Hermione, who was mad at Ron, and Ginny, who didn’t care. Dumbledore cut them off.

“Now our friends from the North.” He continued. “Please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and their headmaster Igor Karkaroff.” In came a group of men also around a year older. They were all tall and handsome. Their entrance turned the table and now Ron was huffing at Hermione.

After the students, the headmaster entered with a tall boy at his side. It was Viktor Krum, the quidditch player from the World Cup.

“Blimey it’s him,” Ron said, startled. “It’s Viktor Krum.” He walked through the hall staring at the other hand, not bothering to greet anyone. You weren’t impressed by him. Dumbledore greeted their headmaster warmly, bringing him into a welcoming embrace.

Once everyone was seated and settled, the feast began. Each table was filled with every food imaginable and everyone was happy with what they ate. After the majority of the room was finished, four men entered the hall, rolling with them a large pillar decorated with gold and jewels. It was parked at the end of the room, right in front of the professor’s table.

Dumbledore stood again, making his way over to the pillar. “I’d like to say a few words.” He announced, quieting the room again. “Eternal glory. That is what awaits the student who wins the Tri-wizard tournament. But to do this, that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks.”

“Wicked.” You heard the twins say in unison. Fred nudged you with his elbow, bringing a little smirk to your face.

“For this reason, the ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule.” The professor continued. “To explain all this, we have the head of the department of international magical cooperations, Mr. Bartemius Crouch.”

The man stood, making his way over to the podium. But he and everyone else were interrupted by the sudden sound of thunder clapping in the hall, rain and lightning following swiftly. Students shrieked, ducking for cover from the sudden chaos. From one of the side doors, a tall man stepped into the room and pointed his wand toward the ceiling, fixing the mess.

After the rain had gone everyone sat up again, looking around in confusion. The man that had entered was tall and widely built. He had a limp in his stride as he walked. “Hey that’s Mad-eye Moody,” Ron announced.

“Alastor Moody? The Auror?” Hermione inquired. Ron leaned down and whispered something to Harry, which was low enough that you couldn’t hear.

“My dear old friend, thanks for coming.” Dumbledore welcomed him, shaking his hand.

“Stupid ceiling.” Moody replied gruffly. Dumbledore nodded and gestured to a seat at the professor’s table, sending him in that direction. After the room had settled again, Barty Crouch finally made it to the front, standing in front of the gold pillar.

He paused, hesitating briefly before speaking as if it was something difficult for him to say. It was definitely something difficult for you to hear. “After due consideration, the ministry has concluded that for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen should be allowed to put forth their name for the Tri-wizard tournament. This decision is final.” Your face dropped in disappointment and the students erupted into shouts of protest, the twins being the loudest.

“That’s rubbish!” They shouted. The hall fell into chaos once more until Dumbledore saved it again.

“Silence!” He yelled, immediately quieting the school. The professor stepped forward toward the pillar. His hand glided over it, causing it to melt away in front of you. The outer shell of gold gave way to a large stone goblet, a blue flame igniting in the cup.

“The goblet of fire.” He explained. “Anyone wishing to submit themselves to the tournament need only write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night. Do not do so lightly. If chosen, there’s no turning back. As of this moment, the Tri-wizard tournament has begun.”

You glanced at Fred and George, who held an excited expression as if they weren’t just told they couldn’t enter. If you knew them, which you did, they would likely come up with an absurd plan to try and enter anyway. You would just have to wait until they brought it to you.

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A few days later, you were absolutely correct in your suspicions. You were in the library, picking up a few books when the twins approached you. “Y/n,” Fred said in a singsongy voice, sliding next to you. George came on your other side.

“What is it, boys?” You asked, setting your books down on the table and turning to lean back onto it. They both looked at each other as if trying to decide who should answer. “Well, spit it out.”

“We have a plan to enter the tournament.” George started, you gave a loud sigh. “And before you say anything, we’ve thought it through completely. It’s going to work.”

“You did, did you?” You responded sarcastically, glancing down at the books you were carrying.

“We did,” Fred returned, ignoring your remark. “But, it requires you.” He held up a finger and pointed to you. You chuckled, crossing your arms.

“Uh-huh. And what does this plan require me to do?” You asked with a tiny smirk.

“We need you to brew an aging potion,” Fred explained, setting a hand down on the table to lean closer to you. “You’re much better at potions than us and we have to make sure it’s going to work correctly.”

You sighed. “It’s not.”

“What, why not?” George asked. “We could probably manage it so you definitely can.”

“Oh no, not the potion. That will work exactly how I make it to. But your plan won’t work.”

“And why is that, Y/n.” Fred asked, the look on his face put a longing feeling in your body.

“You really think that the ministry— Dumbledore for that matter would be thick enough to not think of an aging potion?”

“That’s what we’re counting on.” George stated, making you sigh even louder.

“Ok, let’s say hypothetically this does work.” You said, sitting on the table. “Have you considered at all that competing in the tournament might not be the best idea?”

“Nope” they said together.

“But we’re not worried about it.” Fred added. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh I don’t know, you could die?” You told them, setting a hand on the side of their heads. “And unfortunately I would miss you both dearly if you died.” You finished in an exaggerated pouty voice.

“When did you get all responsible?” George asked, “You were just as excited as we were to enter.”

“That was before I read about the tasks from the last tournaments.” You stated. “And I don’t want to risk losing my favorite redheads.”

“Well. That’s very sweet and all but we still need you to make that potion.” Fred told you.

You sighed once more to get your point across. “Fine.” They immediately grinned and gave each other a high five. “But when this blows up in your face, it’s not my fault.”

“You’re the best, love.” Fred spoke, giving you a sudden kiss on the cheek before taking off with his brother through the bookshelves, leaving you sitting there frozen. You watched them round the corner, your fingertips brushing your cheek. God, Fred Weasley was going to be the death of you.

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You met them with their potion outside the great hall the next day. “Here,” You handed them two little viles. “This is your last chance to stop and save yourselves the embarrassment.”

“Yeah not a chance, babe.” Fred said, taking them from you and handing one to George.

“Alright, fine.” You said, throwing your hands up in defeat. “Just remember, this is your own doing.”

“We’ll try,” George told you. The twins ran into the hall cheering, you following a little ways behind. There was a little crowd gathered around the goblet of fire and they all applauded as Fred and George made their entrance.

“Well lads, we’ve done it!” Fred announced, jumping up onto the wood bleachers and holding up his potion.

“Y/n cooked it up just this morning.” George explained further, following his brother. Hermione, who sat a feet away, turned her head from her book and laughed.

“It’s not going to work.” She sang in a mocking voice. The twins sat down on either side of her.

“Oh yeah?” Fred started.

“And why is that, Granger?” George finished. Hermione pointed out a hazy white line around the cup.

“See this?” She told them. “This is an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself.”

“So?”

“So,” Hermione slammed her book shut as if it was outrageous that they didn’t seem concerned. “A genius like Dumbledore couldn’t possibly be fooled by something as pathetically dim-witted as an aging potion.”

“Ah but that’s why it’s so brilliant.” Fred stated.

“Because it’s so pathetically dim-witted.” His brother finished for him. The twins stood again while Hermione rolled her eyes. You took their spot, sitting down next to her.

“Ready Fred?”

“Ready George,” They both popped their viles open.

“Bottoms up.” They said together and drank the contents. Once the potion was consumed, they jumped into the circle beyond the age line.

“Why did you make them that?” Hermione asked, awaiting being able to say she was right. You sighed.

“I tried to tell them it wouldn’t work.” You replied, chuckling. “But you know them. They have to learn the hard way.” And they did. Fred and George tossed their names into the fire, pausing to see what would happen. Nothing did at first so they cheered. Fred shot you a smug look which made you shake your head.

Their success was quickly shot down by the fire spitting their names back out, shooting little flames around the room. The crowd ducked out of the way and the twins were send backward and onto the stone floor. You stood to get a better look over the students but all you could see were grey hair and beards sprouting from their heads.

You broke into laughter as they started fighting, cursing at each other. You were absolutely going to give them an earful after they recovered.

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It took them a couple of hours before they were back to normal and they still had some grey left in amongst the red. Now they sat in the common room, grumbling as you finished combing out the hairs that didn’t belong. “Stop complaining, I’m almost done.” You scolded George, who huffed. Fred was already finished and sat beside you on, propping his feet up on the table and leaning his head back on the back of the couch.

“Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.” You suggested as you finished, tossing the comb to the side and shoving George away from you. “I could’ve given you a much better plan.”

“Oh please, yours are about as good as ours.” He responded, sinking onto the other end of the couch.

“At least my plans actually work.” You stated. “And my pranks, and that does make them more successful than yours.”

“Pranks are supposed to be funny, Y/n, not practical.” George teased. “I don’t think you’ve ever made a prank better than ours.”

“Oh really?” You said, standing and crossing your arms. “I could prank better than you two any day.” This made Fred pick his head up.

“Is that a challenge, Y/l/n?” He asked, standing up to meet you. The boy immediately towered over you. You should’ve picked your next words wisely and not ended up in a prank war with the Weasley twins, but of course you didn’t.

“Sounds like it, Weasley.” You told him confidently, stepping closer to him. He laughed.

“Ok fine, we’ll see who’s better.” He said, giving you a smirk that almost shook your composure. You tilted your head slightly.

“I guess we will.” You told him, turning and stalking toward the stairs to the dorms. “Good night, boys.” His eyes and his smirk followed you until you were out of sight. And once you were, you realized how badly you screwed up. You were definitely the smartest of the three but you couldn’t come up with something nearly as fast. And now you were on the clock. It wouldn’t surprise you if they had a plan in the next hour so thinking something up soon wasn’t optional.

You walked into the great hall for dinner that night without them, but they had beaten you there. Fred made eye contact with you, wearing a smirk. His brother sat beside him. They definitely already had a plan and you were definitely done for. Regardless, you sat down next to Fred.

“Fred, George.” You greeted coolly. Fred managed to surpress a chuckle. Instead, he copied your demeanor.

“Y/n,” he responded, returning to his meal. You ate quietly beside him, holding yourself together while listening to the twins try not to laugh the entire dinner.

“What’s up with them?” Ron asked Harry, who shrugged in response. The entire section of the table picked up on the change in interaction between you. Especially since you and Fred normally behaved like a married couple. After eating, you silently stood and left the great hall with Ginny. Fred gave you a stupid look in an attempt to break your seriousness. It only managed to bring a toothless smile to your lips, which you hid away quickly.

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The next morning arrived and you still didn’t have a plan. It was probably already too late for you but you were too stubborn to just give up. You slid out of your bed yawning, but before you could stand all the way you were met with Angelina’s shocked expression.

“What?” You asked her nervously.

“I… would just go look in the mirror.” She told you. Hermione came walking out of the bathroom, dropping her things once she saw you.

“God, please tell me it’s not that bad.” You said, panicking. You stood and ran past Hermione into the bathroom, gasping as you saw your reflection. Your hair was as bright a shade of red as the twins’ were. You clasped a hand over your mouth in surprise.

“What happened?” Angelina asked, sliding into the bathroom behind you.

“The twins is what happened!” You exclaimed. The noise had finally woken Ginny.

“It’s really not that bad, Y/n. It’s just a bit of a shock at first.” Hermione assured. It wasn’t the worst thing you’d ever seen but that didn’t make you any less irritated.

“Hermione, look what they did to my hair!” You said, groaning.

“Hey,” Ginny said sleepily, rubbing her eyes. She started a yawn but it stopped dead in her throat when she saw you.

“I’m going to kill your brothers, Gin.” You said, trying your best to make your hair look decent.

“Please do, I have plenty more where they came from.” She responded, turning and leaving the bathroom. Once you looked okay to your standards you followed.

You stormed out of the dorm and down into the common room. Fred and George were at the chairs and turned their heads as they heard you enter. “You two!” You pointed at them. They stood immediately, stifling their laughter.

“You shouldn’t have challenged us.” George told you and shrugged, which made you scowl at him. You crossed your arms, absolutely fuming.

“Aww you’re so cute when you’re mad.” Fred stated, pulling your glare to him.

“You think I’m cute? We’ll get ready because I’m about to be gorgeous!” You snapped, beyond pissed off.

“Don’t worry, Y/n.” Fred spoke in an attempt to calm you. “It should wear off in the next hour.”

“It better.” You pointed a finger at him.

An hour turned into the morning and the morning turned into the whole day. By the next morning, your hair was still the same shade of red. When you found the twins in the common room again, they looked surprised and much more panicked.

“An hour, huh?” You asked them, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. Fred approached you, rubbing the back of his neck nervously with his hand.

“It really was supposed to be just an hour, love.” He told you. There was a guilt in his voice that made you soften.

“Who knows? It could take weeks to wear off at this point.” George stated, not getting up from his seat on the couch.

“Weeks?” You repeated back to him, dropping your head into your hands with a groan. “This is going to be the color of my hair for weeks?”

“Sorry Y/n, I have no idea what went wrong.” He apologized. “But I’ll figure out something to fix it.”

You sighed. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Fred never mentioned it to you, but he did do his research. He even ventured into muggle hair dye, which seemed like his best option. The hard part was matching your hair color, so he took a small picture he had of you and picked out the closest shade to yours.

That evening you had finished dinner early and beat everyone back to the common room. Now you were sitting in your dorm, having just changed out of your robes. You were just about ready to return to the common room when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in,” You said simply. Fred came in, carrying a couple of small boxes. “Oh hey,”

“I have a solution,” he announced, handing you the boxes. Inside contained y/h/c hair dye. “It’s only temporary. I figure we could use this until your hair goes back to normal.”

Your eyes softened at the gesture and you looked up at him. “Thank you, Freddie. That’s really thoughtful.”

“It’s the least I could do for turning you into a Weasley.” He said with a little chuckle, taking you into the bathroom.

Fred leaned on the small counter and read the instructions. “Ok, get your hair wet.” He said without looking up from the papers in his hand. God he looked attractive standing there, his long body supported by the counter and his brows creased just barely while he read.

You did as he said, wetting your fiery hair and returning to him, trying to keep it from dripping. He took a little towel and draped it over your shoulders, then positioned you so that you stood in front of him.

He poured the paste into your hair and you sighed as he massaged it in, making sure to get your entire head. “Enjoying this, darling?” He teased, getting an elbow to the torso from you. He laughed and continued to work the dye into your hair.

“You know, it’s only fair if I get to dye your hair too.” You informed him, causing him to pause for a moment.

“Y/n, I wouldn’t look good in any other hair color.” He replied, tying your hair up messily behind your head to let the dye soak in.

“Neither do I, but I didn’t get the choice.” You returned, turning around to face him. He looked at you for a second, considering his options.

“Fine,” He sighed. You smiled, trading spots with him and hoisting yourself onto the counter to reach his head better. “But for the record, you can pull off any color so that’s not a fair comparison.” He argued.

“Ok, Fred. I get it, you have a crush.” You teased him, working the dye into his long, soft hair. You almost detected him falter before returning to his normal composure.

“Oh, you mock me, Y/n.” He said, putting a hand to his chest in exaggerated offense. You both sat in the little bathroom with your now h/c hair tied up and soaking. Once the dye sat for long enough, you rinsed and dried both of your heads and then stood in front of the mirror to study your work. You looked completely back to normal but Fred looked entirely different.

“I actually think I make this work.” He said, turning his head to observe the new color.

“I agree.” You gave him a bright smile, relieved to have your regular hair back.

“It is going to come out though, right?”

“Yes because I, unlike you double-checked.” You stated. “It’ll come out in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s comforting.” He sighed.

“It should be. Because if I said it then it’s true.” You smirked, tilting your head up to him. “And now you have to admit that my pranks are better.”

“Y/n, you didn’t even do anything.” He laughed, looking down at you. His face looked different now that it was framed with h/c hair.

“I didn’t have to,” You explained. “Just letting you fail was proof enough.”

“Fine. Our plans work much better when you’re apart of them.” He got out slowly as if it was difficult to say.

“That’s not what I asked, Freddie.”

“Well that’s all you’re going to get, so you’re just going to have to be content with it.” Fred crossed his arms, not even phased when you gave him a smack on the arm. All jokes aside, he genuinely did prefer when you were there to participate in their schemes and keep them in check. He could admit you were really the only brain in the operation.

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Click here for part 3!

#She calls me Freddie #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley fluff #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x you #weasley twin fanfiction #weasley twins #hogwarts fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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lumosandnoxwriting · 2 months

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Crossed Lines || George Weasley

Title: Crossed Lines Pairing: Single Dad!George x Nanny!Reader Summary: Crossing the line between professional and personal is always a risk, and this time it’s one George is willing to take. A/N: I love dad!george and you can pry him from my cold dead hands. Feedback is always appreciated! <3

George Weasley never imagined his life would turn out this way.

As a man in his mid-20s, he was living the life most would be envious of. For starters he and his brother started their own company as teenagers, and now several years later they are still their own bosses. Not to mention he’s a single man, living in central London, free to do whatever and whoever he pleases. He gets to do what he loves, makes his own decisions and he makes enough money to do whatever he wants while also saving enough for his future.

That is until one fateful Tuesday morning, when he answered the door and found a car seat sitting on the welcome mat with the smallest baby girl he’d ever seen tucked inside. Whoever left her there was long gone, and when George brought her inside the note that fluttered to the floor revealed him as the father, with whoever wrote it stating that they weren’t cut out to be a Mother and the baby was George’s problem now.

Two weeks and one paternity test later, George took full custody of his daughter Remi.

Despite having no real hands-on experience with babies, and having no intentions of having children for at least a decade, the second George held that little girl he knew in his heart that he could never give her up. So in the blink of an eye George Weasley went from a single man to a single dad.

Thankfully his family is the best, and rallied around him as he settled into fatherhood. Fred took on more responsibility at work so George could have a more flexible schedule, and his Mum moved in to help him as he learned how to be a Dad. And of course his siblings were always more than eager to babysit when George needed a break.

But now that Remi is six months old, four months after she was dropped off at the front of his brownstone, it’s time for his life to resume. He misses work, and while he loves having his Mum around, he’s desperately in need of having his privacy back. Not to mention all the parenting books he’s consumed over the last few months all talk about how important it is for babies to have a routine, and it’s hard getting into one when George’s work schedule is in the air and Remi never knows if it’ll be her grandmother or her dad getting her up from her nap.

When discussing what childcare arrangements George wanted now that he’d be back at work full time and Molly would be back up North, both Fred and his Mother vetoed his idea to just have Remi at work with him all day. Day care seemed like the obvious solution, but even after touring the best rated facility in London George was hesitant. He hated the idea of dropping his daughter off at some strange building everyday, and wasn’t too keen on the idea of Remi not being the only child someone was looking after.

So George tasked his Mum with finding him the best Nanny in all of London.

While more expensive than daycare, George liked the idea that Remi would be at home where she’s most comfortable and she’d have her caretakers undivided attention. Not to mention he liked how easy it would be to stop by and get some time with his baby whenever he could sneak away from work.

He left all of the hiring decisions up to Molly, citing his inexperience with raising a child. Who better to pick the person that will be caring for his child than the woman who raised seven of her own kids?

And George didn’t regret trusting his mother for a second.

Well until he answers the door on his Nanny’s first day, only to find the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen standing on his doorstep.

She smiles up at him brightly, and George curses himself for not at least asking his Mum for a picture of his Nanny. All she had told him was that her name is Y/N and she has a degree in early childhood development. Truthfully, when George thought about having a Nanny, he always pictured an older woman who was looking for work now that her children have grown and flown the nest. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine someone like Y/N standing on his doorstep.

“Hi,” she greets awkwardly when George doesn’t say anything. “You must be George, I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Snapping out of his daydreams, George gives her a nod. “Nice to meet you as well. Come on in.”

He steps aside so Y/N can walk through the door, and he has to suppress a shiver when their bodies brush. She can’t be much younger than him, and the subtle scent of strawberries wafting from her skin is driving him crazy. George shuts the door a little too hard, before motioning for her to follow him into the living room.

Remi is sitting on the floor supported by some kind of special pillow Fleur bought for him, drool running down her chin as she chews on a toy. George watches as Y/N gets a look at his daughter for the first time, and the smile that takes over her face is breathtaking.

“Oh my goodness,” Y/N coos as she approaches, crouching down in front of Remi. “And you must be Miss Remi,” she greets, her voice soft and cheery as she reaches out to stroke the baby’s cheek. “Your Granny has told me so much about you, Gorgeous. I’m Y/N and I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

George is a puddle as he watches this woman interact with his child. That little girl is his entire world, and watching people fall in love with her always fills him with pride. Remi giggles as Y/N strokes her tummy and a grin breaks out over George’s face.

“She likes you.”

“I like her too.”

Remi squeals with joy as George scoops her up in his arms and he presses a kiss to her wet cheek before he places her on his hip. “Let me show you around and get everything sorted before I have to head off to work.”

Y/N follows behind George as he gives a quick tour, taking note of where everything is. Which is harder than it should be, since she’s distracted by the adorable baby and the gorgeous man that’s holding her. Molly had shown Y/N dozens of pictures of Remi during the interview process and talked about her nonstop, but she had been pretty silent when it came to her son. All she said was that George was young and had become a father unexpectedly when Remi’s mother abandoned the two month old on his porch.

Her heart had broken for the little girl and her father, which made saying yes to Molly’s job offer a piece of cake. And as George points out all of his daughter’s favorite things Y/N is sure in her decision to take this job. It’s clear that George doesn’t know a lot about being a parent, but it’s even more clear that he’s trying his best and he loves his daughter with every fiber of his being.

Y/N would be lying if she didn’t admit how attractive that is. Seeing this man who so clearly used to live the bachelor life bend over backwards to give his daughter the life she deserves is a major turn on. It doesn’t hurt that he’s extremely good looking either.

But it’s really in her best interest to push those kinds of thoughts away considering the fact that George is her boss and he’s trusting her to care for his child. Remi is the only Weasley Y/N will allow herself to fall in love with.

“So as far as a routine goes, Remi doesn’t really have one,” George admits sheepishly as they make their way back into the living room. “When she gets cranky we put her down for a nap and when she cries we feed her. We tried, but with my work schedule always changing and my Mum and I switching on and off, nothing we tried ever really stuck.”

”That’s what I’m here for,” Y/N reassures him with a smile. “It’ll probably take a few days for Remi to settle in from the change and get used to me, but once things settle we’ll start putting a routine in. And I’ll write everything down so you can follow it on the weekends as well.”

“Ugh, you’re amazing,” George gushes, and he doesn’t miss the way Y/N’s cheeks flush. “Okay well I guess that’s everything. I should head out now.” He’s thankful that Y/N turns away, pretending to look at her phone so he can have a private moment with his daughter.

“I love you Rem-Dog,” George murmurs as he presses his lips to the top of his daughter’s head. “I gotta go to work now, but I’m gonna miss you so much. And you’re gonna have so much fun with Y/N. Okay, baby?”

George kisses his daughter one last time, pressing his nose to the crown of her head and taking a deep inhale of her sweet baby scent before he pulls away and hands Remi off to Y/N.

“Call if you need anything,” George says as he walks towards the door. “My cell and office number are on the fridge. I should be home by five but I’ll call and let you know if that changes.”

”Sounds good.” Y/N follows George out, picking up Remi’s hand and making her wave. “Say bye to Daddy, Remi. Say don’t worry about me, everything’s going to be okay.” Her voice has that same dreamy quality it did when she first greeted Remi, and it immediately puts George at ease.

Y/N stays on the porch while George climbs in his car, bouncing Remi as she makes the little girl wave. He keeps his eyes on them for as long as possible, sighing when they disappear out of view.

“Well your first full week back is almost over,” Fred starts as he enters George’s office. “How does it feel?”

”Fucking exhausting,” George groans, flipping Fred off when he laughs.

Truthfully he really has enjoyed being back in the office. Over the past few months he’s been pretty hands off with the business, only coming in for important meetings or for emergencies, and it’s nice to get back working on the actual fun parts of his job. But holy hell is George tired.

After being at work all day George heads home, and after a quick pass off Y/N also heads out, putting George on Dad duty for the rest of the night. Which he totally loves after being away from Remi all day, but by the time he gets her fed, bathed and settled in for the night he’s absolutely exhausted. It doesn’t help that she’s started some kind of sleep regression since he went back to work, so he’s up a few times to put Remi back down.

When discussing with his mom what he might want from a nanny, they had discussed whether the position should be a live in one. George had shut that down pretty quickly, adamant that he only wanted someone there when he couldn’t be and that he could handle everything else. But after only one week he’s already considering asking Y/N if she’d be willing to make that change.

And if part of that is motivated by his craving to spend more time with his nanny it isn’t anyone’s business.

The only time he gets to spend with Y/N is the few minutes before he leaves for work when he hands Remi off, and then the few minutes in the evening before they do it again when he gets home. But seeing the way she lights up when she talks about his daughter has George craving her presence every moment of the day.

It helps that Remi seems to be just as infatuated with Y/N as he is. When he got home from work last night, Y/N had gushed about how amazing Remi has been, and that she barely seemed to need an adjustment period. She explained that sometimes babies have difficulties getting used to their parents being away and having a stranger in the house, but from that very first day Remi took everything like a champ.

The photo George has on his phone of Remi fast asleep on Y/N’s chest from Monday afternoon is a testament to that. The little girl has formed a bond with her nanny right from the start, and George knows his daughter would be thrilled to have some more time with Y/N.

“And how’s the nanny? Still hot?” Fred asks as he plops down in a chair across from George’s desk.

”Ugh, fuck. I never should have told you that.”

”Don’t worry, dude. I’d never try and screw one of your employees,” Fred assures. “Especially one that you wanna fuck too.”

George throws a pen at Fred in an attempt to knock the stupid grin off of his face. “I don’t wanna fuck Y/N.”

”Oh right, you wanna kiss her and hold her and date her and make love to her,” Fred teases.

”You’re such a fucking prat.” George sighs, shuffling some papers on his desk. “Fuck this. It’s Friday and I’m tired and I wanna see my baby. I’m going home early.”

Fred stands up as George starts to collect his things. “Fine, go back home to your girls. I’ll see you later.”

He’s almost out the door when George registers what he’s said and he whips a pad of post it notes at his brother’s retreating back. “Fucking prick!” He shouts, trying to ignore the bright pink blush on his cheeks.

George’s decision to ask Y/N to move in is solidified the second he comes through the door.

Remi’s cries echo off the walls, and he barely has the door shut behind him before he’s barrelling down the hall towards his daughter. When he reaches the living room George stops in his tracks. Y/N is slowly swaying back and forth, quietly murmuring to Remi as she rubs her back soothingly. His daughter’s red face is pressed into her nanny’s neck and even from across the room George can see how wet her cheeks are.

“Is she okay?” George asks as he approaches, his voice frantic.

Y/N spins around so she’s facing him, an attempt at a grin crossing her face. “Teething,” is her simple reply, and George nods in understanding.

He vaguely remembers when Victorie, his niece, started teething since Bill often came to hang out with Fred and George when he needed a break. Not that George can blame a baby, if he had something sharp cutting through his gums and had no ability to verbalize the pain and ask for help he’d be screaming his head off too.

“Yeah, my Mum thought she might be close to cutting one in the front.” Y/N passes Remi to him when he holds his hands out, and he immediately cuddles her close to his chest. “It’s alright, love. Daddy’s here.”

Y/N can practically feel her heart melt as she watches George soothe his daughter, and she silently kicks herself when she realizes how attractive it is watching this big man hold a baby. Of course she’s read those books, the ones where the hot single dad and the nanny end up falling in love and becoming a family. But when she graduated from Uni and decided to go into private care over a day care or teaching she had promised herself she would always remain professional.

Except the moment George Weasley opened his front door that notion went right down the drain.

Watching this man be a parent makes her ovaries ache, and in a futile attempt to squander any feelings she may have for George, Y/N has tried to keep their interactions to a minimum. She keeps their hand-offs as brief as possible, showing up in the morning with only a few minutes to spare and exiting so quickly in the evening that George barely has his shoes off before she’s out the door.

The last thing she needs is to fall in love with the man who signs her paychecks.

It doesn’t help that Remi is probably the best child she’s ever looked after, and considering she started babysitting at 10 that’s a huge compliment. After only a week she already has formed an attachment to the little girl, and it pains her everytime she has to hand her back at the end of the day. Which usually ends up pissing her off, because how could the woman that gave birth to such a beautiful baby just give that all away?

Apart from today’s teething related meltdown Remi has been nothing but a ray of sunshine. She giggles at everything, and Y/N instantly fell in love with her gummy smile. She’s also learned that Remi is a baby that loves to cuddle, and she spends most of her afternoon laying on the couch, holding the infant close to her chest as she sleeps.

Sometimes she feels thankful for that horrid woman who gave all of this up, because Y/N is the one who gets to bask in the glow of little Remi. But sometimes those thoughts lead her down the bath of daydreaming what it would be like to be Remi’s Mum, and by extension George’s wife, and she has to shut them down quickly. Lusting after a life she can’t have is not helpful.

“I put some of her teethers in the freezer,” she explains as George starts to sway back and forth in his own attempt to soothe Remi. “The cold will help soothe and numb the pain, but if you have a hard time getting her to bed you can give her some children’s tylenol.”

Y/N can feel her heart breaking as Remi lets out another wail, hating the fact that she is about to leave when she’s still so upset. She steps closer to George, resting a hand on Remi’s back before she leans in to kiss her tear-stained cheek.

“Bye, Rem-Dog. I’m going to miss you so much, but you have your dad here with you, yeah? And I know you’re in pain but go easy on him, okay? I can feel the anxiety rolling off him,” she pauses to look at George, giving him a teasing wink before she refocuses her attention on the baby. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“You got this, George,” Y/N reassures, giving his arm a squeeze.

She turns to grab her things and head out when a hand closes around her wrist.

“Wait, Y/N,” George calls, tugging so she turns to look at him. “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about, before you go. I was wondering if you’d consider becoming a live-in nanny?” He rushes the question out, clearly nervous.

“You want me to move in?” Y/N asks, her voice breathy. Immediately she clears her throat, shaking her head to bring her back to reality. This is George asking for more help with his baby, nothing more.

“I do yeah,” George confirms with a nod. “I'm in way over my head, and I could really use the extra help in the evenings. I can tell how attached Remi is to you already, and I know she’d love to have you around more.” He leaves out the fact that he’d love to have her around more too, figuring that would be anything but helpful to hear. “I’d pay you more, obviously, and you’ll still have the weekends off. If you’re stuck in a lease I can pay to get you out of it, anything you need.”

“I’ll do it,” Y/N agrees without even taking a second to think about it.

Is moving in with her hot boss and his incredible daughter probably a bad idea? Absolutely. But with the wide grin George is directing at her it’s easy for Y/N to push all of those negative thoughts to the back of her head.

Besides, living here with George and Remi is a good thing, she’ll probably learn all of George’s annoying habits and whatever feelings are starting to develop will fade just as quickly as they started.

At least Y/N hopes so.

Turns out her plan to use moving in with George as a way to diminish her feelings for him is a failure. An epic, fucking failure.

Because as it turns out, George has no annoying habits.

When he wakes up with Remi in the morning he’s quiet, taking extra care to whisper and tiptoe around as to not wake Y/N up before her alarm. When he makes his breakfast he always sets some aside for her as well, and there’s always a fresh pot of coffee waiting. He’s always sure to clean up after himself, to the point where sometimes Y/N forgets he even lives there. And despite the fact that she moved in to help him out more, George is always respectful of her time. When he gets home from work he takes over with Remi, giving Y/N some time for herself. When she takes over again, putting Remi to bed, George always cooks them dinner and they spend the rest of the evening talking and hanging out.

Everyday it feels less and less like she’s his employee helping him care for his daughter and more like they’re a couple caring for their baby together.

Which Y/N knows is a bad thing, and there’s constantly a voice in the back of her head telling her she needs to put up boundaries to keep both George and Remi at arms length. But the more time she spends around them the harder it is. She is quickly discovering that she isn’t just attracted to George’s looks and his dedication to being a father, but to his personality as well. He has a great sense of humor and such a kind heart, and Y/N finds herself missing his presence when he’s not around.

So again, her plan has been an epic failure.

It certainly doesn’t help that three weeks into her new live in position, Y/N rushes into the nursery one night to comfort a screaming Remi only to find her boss standing in the middle of the room shirtless as he rocks his daughter.

“Oh,” Y/N gasps as she steps in the room, alerting George to her presence. When he spins to face her it takes all of her willpower to keep her eyes focused on his face and not his naked torso. “I just wanted to check and make sure everything is okay.”

George swallows thickly, reminding himself that he’s got his crying child in his arms and now is not the time to be ogling his nanny. But fuck is it hard. Because Y/N is standing there in the tiniest pair of sleep shorts and the thinnest tank top George has ever seen, her hair still mussed from sleep.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he mumbles once he finds his composure. “I was hoping to get her back to sleep before she woke you, I’m sorry.”

Remi’s been cutting two new teeth this week, and it’s safe to say sleep has not been something happening here in the Weasley house. He and Y/N have been taking shifts during the night, but he could tell that the lack of sleep was starting to wear her down, so when Remi woke him tonight his sole mission was to soothe her back to sleep as quickly as possible.

“And is there a reason why the two of you are half naked?” Y/N teases, and even in the dim light George can see the blush tinting her cheeks.

George shrugs a shoulder, giving her a grin. “I read in a book that skin to skin contact is supposed to help comfort babies.” Truthfully he hadn’t even considered the possibility of Y/N coming to help him, so George hadn’t given it a second thought when he stripped Remi down to her diaper before he pulled his own shirt off. All he wanted to do was soothe his child, but seeing the way Y/N is having a hard time from looking at his bare chest George is thankful for his actions for a totally different reason.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Y/N responds playfully, and she doesn’t miss the way George’s eyes scan her body. It sends a shiver down her spine, and if there wasn’t a crying baby in his arms she certainly would be throwing herself at him.

Over the past few weeks Y/N has had an inkling that the feelings she has are not totally one sided, and the way George is looking at her now is confirmation. Clearly they are both trying to keep from crossing into unprofessional territory for Remi’s sake, but she’s not sure how much longer they’ll be able to resist this pull.

“Go back to bed,” George instructs, his voice low.

Y/N nods, her stomach fluttering at the command in his voice. Wanting him to be just as affected as she is, she approaches George, maintaining eye contact as she places one hand on his bare shoulder and the other on his abs. She smiles to herself as he tenses under her touch, leaning in to kiss Remi on the forehead.

“Goodnight, baby girl.”

Just as quickly as she was there Y/N is retreating, looking back over her shoulder at George as she lingers in the doorway.

“Sweet dreams, George.”

As soon as she’s gone George tosses his head back and groans. “God damnit,” he mumbles. He looks down at Remi, who’s cries have finally started to quiet. “You two girls will be the death of me I swear.”

It’s the first sunny day they’ve had in weeks, so when he woke up this fine Saturday morning he decided a picnic in the park was the best way to spend it. Even though it’s technically her day off, after he’d packed up the food, Remi George had stopped by Y/N’s room to see if she wanted to join them. Much to his delight, a yes was coming out of her mouth before he’d really even finished asking.

And as he watches her push Remi in a swing, both of them giggling like crazy, George knows one thing for certain: he’s fallen for his nanny. It’s something he’s come to terms with in the two weeks it has been since that night in the nursery. After the way she touched and teased him George had an inkling that his feelings for Y/N were mutual, and their interactions these last few weeks have only confirmed it.

For starters, touching has become a normal part of their relationship. Now when they pass Remi back and forth it’s normal for their hands to brush, lingering just a few seconds too long. When they sit on the couch together in the evenings Y/N takes the spot right next to him, as opposed to sitting on the opposite end like she had previously. It seems like both of them take every opportunity to be close to the other.

Their conversations seem to have a flirty air to them now too, with both of them taking every opportunity to make the other blush. Not to mention the fact that Y/N is supposed to have the weekends off, and yet she somehow always ends up spending them with George and Remi.

Sometimes George even forgets that Y/N is his employee, because when the three of them are together it just feels like they’re a family. Much to George’s pleasure it seems that way to others as well, because on at least four different occasions when the three of them have been out together people have complimented them on how adorable their daughter is, and Y/N has been mistaken as his wife at least a handful of times. Even strangers know that they’re meant to be together.

And George is just waiting for the perfect moment to make it official.

He grins as Y/N starts to head towards him, holding his arms out for the baby.

“Dada, dada, dada!” Remi babbles as Y/N places her in his outstretched hands, and it makes his heart burst just like every other time she’s said it.

“Hi baby,” George coos, settling Remi down on his lap. He shivers when Y/N takes a seat next to him on the blanket, their sides pressed together tightly from how close she chooses to be. “Did you have fun on the swings?”

“Yes I did,” Y/N answers for Remi, her voice morphing into the delicate tone she always uses when talking to the baby. “Y/N is so much fun, Daddy. So much more fun than you,” she teases.

They both let out a laugh when Remi reaches for Y/N, seemingly confirming her words.

Instead of taking the baby Y/N leans into George’s side, holding out both her hands so Remi and grab on to her pointer fingers. George immediately wraps an arm around her waist, pressing Y/N even closer into his chest. It feels so natural that George has to resist his urge to lean in and kiss her on the forehead.

Y/N smiles as Remi tries to shove her fingers in her mouth, keeping her attention focused on the baby so she doesn’t get lost in George’s eyes. She can feel his gaze on her, and it’s taking everything in her not to return it.

She shouldn’t even be here right now. She’d had plans to get brunch with some of her Uni friends, but the second George stopped in the doorway of her room, a stupid smile on his face and his perfect baby in his arms as he invited her on a picnic she couldn’t say no. It’s definitely not normal, the amount of time she spends with George and Remi when she’s off the clock, but Y/N stopped caring about that weeks ago. In reality, George could never pay her another cent and she’d still be sitting right where she is.

Which should terrify Y/N, but it doesn’t.

“I can’t believe how big she’s getting,” George comments, pulling Y/N out of her thoughts.

She hums in agreement. “It’s crazy how fast they grow at this age. I swear some days she grows overnight.”

“She looks so much like her mom.”

Y/N freezes, just watching George stroke his fingers over the dark, wispy hair that covers Remi’s head. He’s never talked about her before, and Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about the woman who makes up the other half of Remi’s DNA.

“Maybe,” Y/N comments, grinning as Remi giggles. “But she has your eyes and your smile.” When all George does is hum in acknowledgement she continues. “What was she like? Remi’s mom?”

George shrugs as best he can with Y/N pressed against him. “I don’t know, really. Which sounds awful. We didn’t really spend too much time talking, if you get what I mean. I had totally forgotten about her until Remi showed up on my doorstep and the note from her fell out onto the ground.”

“I know I probably shouldn’t think ill of someone I don’t know,” Y/N says cautiously. “But it must take an awful person to just abandon their baby. Especially a baby like Remi. I mean, what if you weren’t home? Remi would have just been sitting out there on the porch for who knows how long.” She shudders in horror at the thought. “I just can’t ever imagine leaving her behind.”

The protective tone in her voice drives George crazy in the best way possible. He knows, obviously, that Y/N cares for his daughter, but hearing her be so angry at the woman who abandoned his daughter is something different.

“I know what you mean. Being a dad was something I never even considered. But the second I held that baby for the first time I knew I could never give her up.” George pauses, considering his next words carefully. “Sometimes I think about what life would be like, if Remi’s mom had come to me when she found out she was pregnant and we had the opportunity to be a family. But I don’t think I would have liked it that much.”

“Oh?” The soft tone of George’s voice is sending goosebumps all over her body. “Why is that?”

“Because then I never would have needed a nanny, and Remi and I wouldn’t have met you.”

His words take all of the air out of Y/N’s lungs, and her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest. Because she’s had those thoughts too, and as selfish as it is Y/N has always come to the same conclusion as George. Remi will never know her biological mother, and part of Y/N aches for that little girl. But a larger part of her is thankful that Remi will never know the pain of her mother’s abandonment, and she’s thankful that she gets to be the woman in her life.

“Thanks for coming with us,” George murmurs after a few moments of silence, causing Y/N to finally look up at him. He has the dopiest grin on his face and it makes her heart race.

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” Y/N responds, and the conviction in her voice lets George know she’s being honest with him.

George reaches out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear, and he grins at the hitch in her breath. “Remi likes spending so much time with you.”

“Just Remi?” she asks teasingly, digging her teeth into her bottom lip.

“No,” George murmurs honestly, reaching up to trace Y/N’s jaw with his thumb. “Not just Remi.”

Things finally come to a head a few days later, and they have to decide whether to end this arrangement all together or finally cross that line.

“Y/N? Remi?”

Y/N grins as George’s voice echoes through the house as the front door clicks shut behind him. “Living room!” she calls back.

As soon as George comes into view Remi starts babbling, her tiny fists reaching out towards George. “Dada, dada, dada!”

They’re sitting on the floor, with Y/N’s back against the sofa as Remi sits in her lap so they can read a book. But as George comes closer Y/N tosses the book aside, focusing on the man approaching her. Ever since the picnic in the park they’re subtle glances have become more obvious, and she doesn’t shy away from checking George out.

Because damn that man knows how to wear a suit.

“Hey Rem-Dog,” George greets, taking a seat on the floor across from Y/N. He opens his arms as Y/N lets Remi go, waiting for her to crawl closer before he swoops in. Picking Remi up under her armpits George hoists her in the air, blowing raspberries against her belly to make her laugh.

Y/N waits for George to return the giggling baby to his lap before she acknowledges him. “Hi. How was work?”

George shrugs, giving her a smile. “It was okay. Couldn’t wait to get home though.”

The intensity in his gaze makes Y/N blush, and she clears her throat as she looks away. “Well it’s a good thing you’re here now,” she manages to squeak out once she’s calmed down.

Things have felt so intense between them lately, but Y/N is waiting for George to make the first move. While she’s absolutely sure he feels the same way as she does, she doesn’t want to risk it by being the first one to make a move. Because on the off chance she goes for it and George rejects her, not only will Y/N be humiliated but she’ll lose Remi and that’s not something she’s willing to risk.

“Yeah, good thing.” George leans down to kiss the top of Remi’s head. “How was she today? Any problems?”

Y/N chuckles at the notion of Remi being anything but a perfect angel. “Nope, she was perfect, as per usual. She tried broccoli for the first time and went down for her nap easily. And every time I’d show her a picture of you she’d reach for it shouting Dada.”

That makes George’s heart melt. “That’s my smart girl,” he coos.

They both just watch for a minute as Remi squirms on George’s lap, one of her hands fisted in his dress pants while the other smacks his knee. No one says anything, but the silence between them isn’t awkward at all.

George suddenly takes a deep breath and just as he’s about to open his mouth to say something Remi cuts him off.

“Mama, mama!” she babbles for the first time, her little arms reaching out towards Y/N as she makes grabby hands. “Mama!”

Tears immediately spring to Y/N’s eyes, and she stands up, turning away from George so he can’t see how affected she is. “Oh. Um. I’ll be right back.”

George watches dumbfounded as Y/N disappears down the hall, presumably into his room. “Shit, shit shit,” he murmurs, standing up to follow after her. He places Remi in her playpen, kissing her quickly on the forehead. “Hang on, baby. Dada has to go check on Mama.”

Y/N’s door is closed when George reaches it, and he gives a tentative knock. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, George!” She calls, but George can hear her sniffling.

“No, you’re not.” He pauses, grabbing the doorknob. “I’m coming in.”

She’s sitting on the edge of her bed, furiously wiping away tears and George immediately takes two steps into the room before falling to his knees in front of her. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she dismisses, shaking her head. “I don’t even know why I’m crying to be honest. It shouldn’t be a big deal, obviously I’m not Remi’s mom-”

“But you wanna be,” George murmurs, cutting her off.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, George,” Y/N apologizes. She wipes away the rest of the tears on her cheeks before she starts to push him away. “Let me just pack my stuff and I’ll be out of here, I’m sorry.”

George grabs Y/N’s wrists, keeping her hands pressed to his chest but keeping her from pushing him away. “What the hell do you have to be sorry for, Y/N?”

“I’m her nanny, George. I’m just supposed to be looking after her while you’re at work or whatever. I’m not supposed to be imagining a life where she’s my child and we’re a family. I crossed a line and you should fire me.”

“Fuck that,” George scoffs. “Look at me, Y/N.” He doesn’t continue until Y/N meets his gaze. “If anyone here crossed a line it was me. The second I saw you on my porch that morning I was fucked, I wanted you in every single way I could have you, Y/N. Hell, I asked you to move in under the guise that I needed more help with Remi when in reality I just wanted an excuse to be closer to you.”

George’s confession shocks her, and a humorless chuckle leaves her lips. “Really?”

“Really,” George confirms. “So if I should fire you for what you did, then you should quit for what I did. And if you really want to leave I will walk away right now. I’ll head back into the living room and sit with Remi while you pack and I’ll let you walk out the front door.”

“And if I don’t want to leave?” Y/N immediately asks.

“Then I’m going to kiss you, and once I've conveyed to you how much you truly mean to me, we’ll go back out to the living room to spend time with our daughter. Because Y/N, you stopped being just the nanny weeks ago. And I think you know that.” George gives her a pointed look. “The choice is yours.”

Her choice comes in the form of her hands fisting in George’s shirt seconds before she pulls him into a kiss. George’s arms immediately wrap around her waist, and he pulls Y/N off of the bed and into his lap, needing to get her as close as possible.

“Dada! Mama!”

Remi’s shout breaks their kiss, but George keeps their foreheads pressed together as they chuckle. “I guess we’ll have to wait until Remi goes to bed to cross other lines.”

Y/N shakes her head, playfully smacking George on the side of his head. He can be such an idiot. But at least he’s her idiot, and that’s all that really matters.

#George Weasley #George Weasley fic #George Weasley imagine #George Weasley fan fiction #George Weasley fanfic #gw #Harry Potter imagine #golden

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