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pepper-up-potion · 3 years

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Humor me (George Weasley x fem!reader)

Summary: Reader can't stand George Weasley but over time she realizes he might be a good addition to her life.

Warnings: crying, angst, let me know if I missed any.

Word count: 5.5k (this is my longest fic so far!)

A/n: I still don't know how to feel about this. A part of me likes it and a part of me feels it could be better. This is my first enemies to lovers and it was very very fun.

———

“Thanks (y/n)! I can always count on you, you’re a lifesaver.” Shouts Neville as he runs down the hall and towards his next class. (Y/n) had helped him put healing salve and a bandage on his cut hand.

“Anytime!” She smiles as she watches him stumble away. She pulls out her book and sits back down on the windowsill.

“Humour me.” Says a foreign voice.

She looks up frowning. “I’m sorry?” She asks politely.

“When was the last time you did something for yourself?” Asks the red-haired boy.

“What are you talking about? I’m doing that right now.” She points to her book: Charms for first years

“That’s weird because I could’ve sworn you were in my charms class and not in first year.” He argues, shoving his hand in his pockets and clicking his tongue.

“Well I’m helping out a first-year next period but I enjoy doing that so I am doing something for myself.” She explains, slightly irritated.

“You can’t be serious?” He waits but she offers no response. She only lifts her nose at him. “That is not taking time for yourself. That’s preparing to help someone else.”

Her nostrils flare as she abruptly snaps her books shut. She shoves it into her bag before swinging it over her shoulder. She steps towards George. She suddenly realizes how tall he is. She gulps before placing a hand on her hip and pointing a finger at him.

“Listen here, helping other people is a very noble thing and if I wish to spend my free time doing that, I should not have to explain myself.”

“Ah, so you admit that you spend your free time helping other people rather than doing something for yourself?”

George smirks at her and she wants to slap it off his stupid pretty face.

“Wha-? No.” She huffs. “I don’t know why I’m arguing this with someone I hardly know but what I mean to say is that yes, it’s demanding and tedious but it’s also rewarding and the most gratifying thing I could ever do, so I believe I am doing something for myself. You just don’t get it because you spend all your time playing stupid pranks on everyone.” She snaps before pulling the strap of her bag further onto her shoulder and walking away. Normally she would feel bad for saying something like that to someone but for some reason she felt George could take it.

“So when will I see you again?” George shouts down the hall.

“I have to go!” She shouts back.

“I’ll see you in class then. Or maybe in the halls again.” He continues.

“Goodbye!” She turns the corner and speeds as far away from George as possible, steam practically fuming from her ears.

———

“Hey (y/n) could I just copy your homework before class? I didn’t have time to do it what with quidditch practice and all.” Asks Angelina.

(Y/n) nods and pulls out her answers, stands and walks to her seat, passing them to her. As (y/n) walks back she sees George slide into the spot next to hers. She grunts before stomping to her seat.

“ ‘Morning.” He sings, kicking his feet on the desk. She rolls her eyes and pushes his feet off, offering no other greeting. Now this is saying something, (y/n) always greets everybody. He laughs a little before turning to his bag and pulling out his textbook.

“Ark, couldn’t you go sit somewhere else?” She asks with a look of disgust.

George shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I could, but I’d like to think we’d make a good team and I’d like to test that theory.” He waves a pointed index as if to emphasize his point.

She shudders at the thought of having to work with him. It’s very likely they will, it often happens in potions class. (Y/n) is at the top of the class and she doubts Snape would have any objection to George working with her since she could easily bring up his grade. She sighs as Snape walks in and starts the lecture portion of the class.

“You will have the remaining hour to make your hiccoughing solution. Work with the person next to you.” With a wave of his arms everyone starts opening their textbook and discussing the potion.

To her surprise, George is really good at potions. Logically it makes sense because him and Fred are always creating new things but she never really thought it transferable to school. She watches, a little stunned as George quickly and skillfully goes through the steps of the potion. For the first time since she can last remember, she sits back instead of running the group. George occasionally asks her to cut something or extract oil from a root. She doesn’t argue, it’s sort of nice being told what to do rather than making all the decisions. She doesn’t tell him and refuses to think more of it because that’s not her proper role. She’s the leader, she’s the helper. Maybe this once she’ll let it slide, give herself a break.

Once the bell rings they gather their books and George finally speaks of other things than the potion.

“Relaxing isn’t it?” She tilts her head in confusion. “Not having to take care of others for once.” He continues.

Oh no he didn’t. He just ruined it. He took her small guilty moment of peace and crushed it. “You hardly let me do anything! What was I supposed to do? Fight you?”

George shrugs. “You could’ve.” He winks at her and she lets out an angry moan.

“Ark!” She turns on her heels and walks out of the class without another word.

“Same time next week?” She hears him shout but she’s already in the hallway and simply ignores him.

———

“You know you could give that to a house-elf and they could take care of that for you.” Says George as he leans into the door frame and watches (y/n) clean the chalkboard in the defence against the dark arts classroom.

“Well I don’t need to be taken care of, I’m perfectly capable of doing things on my own thank you very much” she spits back at him.

George and her are acquaintances at best. It’s been a month since they’ve first spoken to each other. Since then he seems to always be around her. Sitting next to her in class, offering to help her with her books in the hall. She’s never asked for him to be there or to share his opinion. Yet he’s there and very verbal about his thoughts.

He steps into the class and sits in the front row. He bounces his leg under the desk and leans back into the chair. He looks nervous but she can tell he’s trying to cover it up.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, curiosity getting the best of her.

“Waiting for Umbridge.” He points up the stairs at the closed door of her office. “I got detention.” He adds.

“What did you do?” She stops cleaning the board and sets the cleaning potion on the desk next to George.

“Gave a ton tongue toffee to Filch. His tongue was four feet long when Umbridge found him.” He chuckles to himself, remembering Umbridge’s reaction.

For the first time ever, (y/n) laughs in front of George. She tries to hold it in but it slips past her. George first looks surprised but soon he’s laughing with her.

“Glad to see someone is standing up to them.” She shakes her head. “Umbridge really is a horrible person. I can't believe all the mean things she’s doing to the students.” Her face is sad. George can see how much she cares for the other students.

“Well, would you look at that? We actually agree on something.” He crosses his arms and smirks at her. “Does this mean we're friends?” He asks.

She barks out a loud laugh. “Don’t get ahead of yourself Weasley.” She grabs her bag and walks out without another word. She can feel George’s gaze following her until she steps into the hall and out of sight. She wonders why her cheeks feel so hot suddenly.

———

(Y/n) is tutoring Seamus Finnigan in the library. They’re whispering over a book when George spots them. He smiles and beelines for their table.

“Mind if I sit here.” He asks, holding onto the chair in front of them. They both look up at him. Seamus smiles and reaches out his hand for a fist bump. (Y/n) rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out.

“Yeah mate, it’s no problem.” Says Seamus.

“No, you may not. It is very much a problem.” She hisses. Seamus looks at her, shocked by the bitterness in her voice.

“Blimey (y/n), I’ve never heard you so angry before.” He stuns.

She laughs nervously. He’s right, she normally doesn’t talk to people like that. The only exception to the rule is George. She grits her teeth and pastes a smile before looking at George.

“Of course you can sit here George. Any friend of Seamus is a friend of mine.” She somehow manages to sound sweet and somewhat sincere. George raises his eyebrows in surprise. He quickly recollects himself and takes a seat before she changes her mind.

“So, going back to charms. Can you tell me the definition of the substantive charm?” She asks Seamus.

“How long have you been doing this?” George interrupts.

Seamus grabs (y/n)’s arm and reads her watch. He whistles dramatically. “Crickey, it’s been an hour and fifteen minutes. I think we should call it a day.” He grabs his book and bag and gets up. “Thanks again (y/n). See you next week.” And with that, he was off.

(Y/n)’s jaw clenches as she looks from the now empty chair to George.

“Why?” She groans. “Why would you do that?”

“This is great. He got his help and you get a break. What do you say we go down to the dungeon and pull a prank on Malfoy?” He beams at her, pleased with his idea.

She gets the sudden urge to scream. Who does he think he is? Coming into her life and ruining everything. It is quite likely that Seamus won't do as well on the quiz as if he had stayed for the extra fifteen minutes she had planned and now she has to go deal with Hermione who wanted to rant about Ron. Something which she had very much been putting off. She takes a long, deep breath before looking at George again. The urge to scream has faded with the breath but the look on his face makes her see red.

“Could you please, please, find someone else to annoy. I don’t have time for this and you’re really starting to test my patients.” She pleads.

George’s face drops, evidently displeased by her response. He stands from his chair and puts his bag strap over his shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll leave.” He surrenders. There is a pause like he’s debating between leaving or adding another word. To (y/n)’s dissatisfaction, he continues to speak. “Anytime you need someone who doesn’t need help tutoring or homework to copy or healing salve, you know where to find me.”

She laughs loudly making everyone turn to look at her. “Pff yeah okay.” She dismisses, and with that George is turning away and walking out of the library.

She hates the sad feeling that settles in her chest. It’s like it’s telling her she wants him to stay. She rolls her eyes and swears to herself, gathering her things and heading to Hermione’s aid.

No matter how hard she tries not to, she spends the rest of the day thinking about George. His stupid face keeps popping into her head. What does he know? She likes when people ask for help. She is happy being the person people can turn to. She can’t understand what George thinks is wrong with that. Maybe he’s just a horrible person. It’s much easier to tell herself than to think there could be something wrong with her.

———

A week later (y/n) is knocking on Susan Bones’ door and stepping in before hearing a welcome.

“Merlin! I can’t stand him!” She shouts once in her best friend’s dorm room. Susan looks up from her book with her brows knitted.

“Who?” She asks while shutting her book and sitting up.

“George!” She states looking at Susan like she should have known. She shows no sign of further understanding (y/n)’s dilemma.

“Why?” She asks hesitantly. (Y/n) stomps to Susan’s bed and plops onto it.

“First he’s everywhere meddling into my life like it’s his business and now, radio silence.” She adds nothing more, leaving Susan even more confused.

“And that’s a problem because…”

(Y/n) sits up and flails her arms in the air. “Well, why did he make me question myself like that and then just vanish?” She exclaims exasperated.

Susan gapes, further confused. “But, didn’t you ask him to leave you alone?”

“Ark! That’s not the point!” She gets up and stomps out of the room. Susan blinks and looks around the room stunned even though there is no one to share the confusion with.

A moment later (y/n) is back into the room. “What on earth did he mean by if ever you want someone who doesn’t need help, you know where to find me?” She puts her hands on her hips and waits for her friend’s answer. Susan’s eyes light up and she smiles slightly. Now it’s (y/n)’s turn to look confused.

“He said that?” Asks Susan with a hopeful tone.

“Wha- I- Well yes he did but-.” She stops. Susan has left her stunned, she’s too confused to debate.

Susan’s smile grows wider. “Have you heard about Dombledors army?” She asks.

(Y/n) scrunches her nose. “No. What does that have to do with this?”

“Well I think you should come to our next meeting.” Her smile is mischievous, (y/n) hates it.

———-

The next day Susan takes (y/n) to the seventh floor. She stops in the middle of the hall and passes back and forth in front of a stone wall. Soon a door appears in front of them and (y/n) smiles, amazed by the castle's secrets.

Susan is the first to walk in waving at a few people near the door. Once (y/n) follows through the room goes silent. Harry finally walks up to them, hand stretched out.

“Welcome to the army.” He says confidently. She looks to Susan who gives her an encouraging nod. She finally accepts Harry’s hand with a small yet nervous smile.

As she looks around the room she feels a pair of eyes on her. She turns to find George looking at her with a neutral face. She lets out a little screech and turns back to Susan.

“You didn’t tell me he was going to be here!” (Y/n) whispers with a panicked tone.

“Well if I did you wouldn’t have come.” She states simply before walking off to talk with one of the other girls.

“Alright everyone. I think we’ll get started.” Announces Harry. Everyone goes quiet and they quickly form a half-circle around him. She sees a tall man settle next to her in her peripheral. She can just make out a flash of red hair. Her heart starts beating at an unruly pace.

“Today’s focus is on stunning. Nigel and I are going to do a demonstration so watch closely.” Everyone moves to the sides of the room whispering excitedly.

(Y/n) claps her hand over her mouth as she watches Harry fly backwards after being stunned by Nigel. She lets out a relieved sigh when Harry sits back up.

“I’d like to see you do that.” Whispers George into her ear. She jumps a little as his hot breath on her neck sends a shiver down her spine.

She turns to look at him. She has no snarky answer. She just gapes at him in surprise.

“I’d like to see you stand up for yourself for once.” He adds. She huffs in shock.

“I-“ She starts but Harry cuts her off. “Who wants to go next?” He asks.

“(Y/n) and I will go.” Announces George. She freezes as everyone eyes them curiously.

“Maybe someone else would like to go before us.” She tries.

“Nonsense, go on (y/n).” Says Harry enthusiastically. “No one here will judge you.” He adds thinking that’s her concern.

It’s not that she didn’t want to defend herself, it’s just she felt sort of bad stunning someone. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to do it. She walks to one end of the room and George to the other. He stretches out his arm, wand at the ready. She looks at Susan with a pleading look. Susan gives her an impatient nod and (y/n) reluctantly lifts her wand.

Neither of them moves, the room is completely silent. Soon there are whispers in the crowd. George is looking at (y/n) with a challenging eye. She gulps, trying to convince herself to stun him. She thinks that maybe if she does nothing he’ll grow impatient and stun her. That way she wouldn’t have to do it and he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of getting what he really wants.

“Right, any second now. Go ahead.” Says Harry slowly.

Nothing happens. George slumps out of his stans and raises his arms in the air. “Oh c’mon (y/n) stun me!” He exclaims.

She looks at the crowd as they all stare back at her. She suddenly feels weak in the knees. She begins to sweat nervously and looks at Susan. She looks a little concerned, maybe thinking this wasn’t as good an idea as she first thought. She still gives her a weak encouraging smile and a little thumbs up. (Y/n) looks back at George who has his arms stretched out taunting her.

“Oh for once in your life be mean!” He shouts. The words echo in the room.

“I can be plenty mean!” She disputes. “Last week, I ate Susan’s cookie.” She adds, puffing her chest.

George tries to hold back his smile. She hears a couple giggles in the crowd.

“That is not mean.” His tone is adoring and she hates it.

“It was her favourite brand.” She adds trying to make it sound more horrific. She’s the only one in the room with a serious face. Everyone else is smiling enjoying the tense exchange between the two.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “If it’s anything, it’s cute.” He says with a wink. There it is. There’s the final straw. She can feel her blood boil. Everyone holds their breath as they watch her face contort into an angry pout. George smiles wide thinking the pout is possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

She lets out an angry grunt. “It is not cute! You wanna see cute? Watch this.” She flicks her wand and shouts: “Stupify!” The spell sends George across the room. Everyone exclaims as he hits the ground with a thud.

“Excellent! Really good (y/n)!” Exclaims Harry.

Across the room George is whooping. He runs over to her with arms wide open. His smile is contagious, she can’t stop hers from pulling at her cheeks. Laughs spill from her lips as he wraps her tightly into his arms. Fred helps George throw her over their shoulders. Everyone gathers around them and cheers. (Y/n) feels her cheeks go hot suddenly, very aware of George’s hand on her thigh keeping her in place. She looks at everyone’s happy smiles and she can't help but join in. She hates to admit it but George might have been right. Standing up for yourself can feel good.

———

It’s a Wednesday evening. Most people were already back in their common rooms. (Y/n) was walking back from the library, having finished another tutoring session with Zacharias Smith. The halls are practically deserted when she suddenly hears quiet sobs further away. She speeds her pace and turns the corner finally spotting a little boy crying quietly while holding his hand. Two older boys are kneeling next to him. Her breath hitches when she spots him. George hasn’t talked to her since their duel. She would sometimes catch his eye across the classroom or in the dining hall but this is the first time she’s run into him. George is rubbing circles on the boy's upper back as he whispers sweet comforting phrases to the crying boy. As she steps closer she recognizes the boy to be Michael. She has helped him countless times after he has gotten detention from Umbridge.

Looking at George now she questions how she once called him a horrible person. She sighs accepting she might have been too quick to judge. She steps between the Weasleys and kneels down at Micheal’s feet so they're at eye level. She looks through her big bag before pulling out some gauze and a small glass jar of healing salve. Micheal gives her his hand, remembering the drill. She quietly applies the salve and wraps his hand. She listens to George explain to Micheal how soon the pain will subside. She notices he never stops rubbing circles on the boy's back. There’s something reassuring about the movement and she’s not even the one receiving it.

Micheal takes a deep breath, recollecting himself. He looks between George and (y/n) before smiling mischievously.

“Thanks mom, dad.” He tips his head to each before getting up and walking to his dorm. George’s hand stays frozen in the air even if there’s no longer a back to rub. (Y/n) stops screwing the lid to her salve as she looks at the now empty seat. They both jump when Fred starts howling with laughter. His laughs echo down the hall as he doubles over himself, holding his aching stomach. He wipes at his eyes and sighs loudly.

“Good one kid.” He shouts though Michael is much too far to hear it. “Ah! That’s golden.” He adds before he walks off in the same direction as Micheal did before.

George and (y/n) remain frozen. (Y/n)’s face is pale and George's cheeks are tomato red. (Y/n) is the first to move, she finishes screwing on the lid and shoving it into her bag. She’s in a hurry to get out of this very awkward situation. She shoots a look at George who moved from the floor and onto the bench. He’s leaning back onto the wall with his arms crossed. He smirks when she meets his eyes.

“We would have some cute kids.” His tone is teasing but there’s still something soft and affectionate in the statement.

“Oh honestly George, get a grip.” She rolls her eyes and walks away quickly. It takes all her willpower to hold in her smile until her back is turned to George. He’s not wrong she thinks to herself.

——-

She knocks lightly on the dorm room door. She can hear George’s loud laugh on the other side. She hopes he won’t be mad at her for interrupting the fun. Lee opens the door and the smile on his face is quickly replaced by a look of surprise.

“(Y/n)?” He stuns. The laughter in the room stops abruptly. She hears shuffling and soon George is peaking his head over Lee’s shoulder.

Lee quickly moves out of the way and George looks at her with a concerned look.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” He asks looking around to make sure there is no one else listening.

“I’m sorry to bother you, I know you were having fun there.” She feels pretty stupid now that she’s actually standing in front of him. George shakes his head vigorously to tell her it’s no problem.

“I just-“ she runs a hand through her hair. “I sort of need someone who doesn’t need help with tutoring or homework or healing salve.” The offer is months old. They haven’t even talked in weeks. She never thought she’d actually take him up on it but she didn’t know who else to turn to.

His shoulders drop and a natural smile spreads across his face. “Well then I’m your guy.” He closes the door behind him and guides her down the stairs and into the common room. It’s late, most students are in bed. George asks the few left if they could give them some privacy and they all retreat to their rooms.

“What’s up?” He asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

She sighs and walks over to the big red couch. She sits down and buries her head into her hands. “I- I’m so tired George.” Her voice is laced with despair. “There’s just so much to do and I’m trying, I really am but I just don't know if I have it in me.”

George sits next to her, so close that their knees touch. “What are all the things you need to do?” He asks softly.

“I have to run the potions club and make that banner for the Ancient Runes Club. I have to tutor Hannah and Seamus and Zacharias and so many other people. I have to make sure Lavender is okay and that Luna found her socks. I have to listen to Hermione and Ginny talk about their boy problems and then give them advice. I have to write back to my parents and help them with their problems. I have to help McGonagall with the rat problem because no one else wants to. Madame Pomfrey said I could intern with her but that means I have to spend ten hours a week in the hospital wing. I told professor Sprout I’d help her extract pus from Bubotuber. I promised Colin I would look out for Dennis and I haven't even seen him in weeks.” It all spills out. For the first time ever she is totally transparent about her problems. “And then I have to worry about my own studies and try and keep my grades up and there’s the stress of Dumbledore’s army, what if we get caught?” She’s panting by the end suddenly feeling much lighter.

“Well maybe you could say no to a couple people. I’m sure the Ancient Runes Club can wait for a sign, Mcgonagall can take care of the rats on her own. You can say no you know.” He places a hand on her thigh and looks deep into her eyes.

“But- I can’t George! I can't say no. Those people are counting on me. What if the clubs fall apart or Seamus’ grades drop or Luna never finds her socks.” Her face is panicked.

“Let me help you.” He says it so softly. She feels a dry lump in her throat. Her jaw suddenly hurts and she feels tears well up in her eyes.

“I don’t want your help George!” She jumps off the couch and onto her feet. George’s hand slips off her thigh and onto the couch. It looks limp and sad without her leg to hold it. “I don’t need you, I was doing perfectly fine before you came around and I’ll be fine without you moving forward.” There’s a pause. “ I didn’t come here for you to save the day.” There it is. She doesn’t want to appear weak. She thinks asking for help makes her weak.

George stands up, towering over her. “Fine. If that’s how you feel then I’ll leave. I will go for good and you won’t have to worry about me meddling in your life anymore. I just want you to know that I’m offering to help because I can see how hard this is for you and I think you deserve more than what you’ve granted yourself.” George steps forward closing the gap. “I think you deserve to be taken care of for a change.” They’re inches away from each other. His face suddenly turns soft as he looks into her tear-filled eyes.

There’s a silent pause. She looks into George’s eyes and she sees the honesty, the care, the love. George is there for her when no one else is. He’s right, she is having a hard time and he’s the one offering the help. No one else. All the other people she has sworn would help her, be there for her, aren’t there. But how could they have known? She never tells them how hard it is, always caring for others. She never asks for their help. It’s not that those people don’t care. She just never opens up to them. She never permits them to be anything else than people she could help. All she ever did was give and give. She never believed she should do anything else. George is the first person who wants her to take, not give. It finally clicks. Everything that George has been trying to make her see is crystal clear now.

A tear spills from down her cheek and she feels her knees go weak. She cups her hand over her mouth trying to hold in a sob. She takes a step back shaking her head in denial. George’s face remains soft but there’s concern in his eyes.

“Hey.” He tilts his head, maintaining eye contact as she tries to look away. “It’s okay.” He pulls her towards his chest and she welcomes it. She falls into his arms as more tears fall down her cheeks. “Let it out.” He says.

With that permission (y/n) cries. She cries like never before. Loud sobs slip from her lips as her body shakes in George’s arms. She cries about all the sad secrets people have confided in her. She cries for all the days she sacrificed for others. She cries for all the “I love that you never say no”. She cries for all the grades she sacrificed to keep others high. She lets out years of pent-up tears, of hurt.

He rubs small circles on her upper back and remains quiet. She was right, there relay is something reassuring about those little circles. She cries for an hour and George never moves, never speaks, never stops her.

Finally, she sniffles her last tear and steps out of George’s arms. He reluctantly lets her go but takes her hand in his. She pulls it away to wipe at her eyes.

“Thank you.” Her voice is so delicate she would be embarrassed if it weren’t George in front of her. She laughs suddenly and George looks shocked. She soon starts crying of laughter and George gapes unsure of what to do.

“Are you okay?” He asks confused.

“I just, I hate you.” She laughs again. George looks stunned. He takes a step away from her and opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off.

“Or so I thought. You have bugged me every day for months yet there’s no one I want here more than you.” George takes a tentative step forward. The words seem to give him confidence. “As crazy as it sounds I’ve had some of the best times talking with you because I actually said what I wanted to say. You can handle me better than anyone else. You challenge me in a way that I absolutely hate but I know why you’re doing it. You’re helping me learn to take care of myself and that’s hard because it’s something I’ve never done before.” She stops for a moment. The look in her eyes changes. First, there’s shock as she realizes. Then there’s a soft and happy glow. “I think I’m falling in love with you George.” She gasps. It’s almost a whisper. She barely wants to admit it.

“Come here.” Is all he says. She doesn’t move. Her brows knit themselves as she searches his face for an explanation. She takes a deep breath. The step towards him feels like a trust fall. He gently pulls her closer by the waist. He presses his forehead to hers. (Y/n) pushes her nose to his, bringing their lips closer to one another. He repeats the movement.

They tease each other a couple more times before George whispers “Can I kiss you?” She nods slowly and whispers a yes. He tips his head so their lips connect. His soft lips send sparks down her spine. George wraps an arm up to her back and pulls her closer quickly deepening the kiss. She wraps her arms around his next and soon her hands tangle into his fiery red hair. It feels like rain after a dry summer, like the cold side of her pillow, like the warm fire after coming in from the cold, it feels like heaven. Nothing has ever felt more right than their lips pressed together and for once, she’s giving in to what she wants.

When George pulls away she finds herself chasing his lips. She pouts a little missing the kiss. George runs a hand over her hair and looks at her adoringly.

“I’m falling for you too (y/n)”

#george weasley #george x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley x y/n #george imagine

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rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years

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Little steps | pt 1 - Admiration - George Weasley

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader (though very subtle in this one)

Summary: You’re friends with the golden trio (you might even say golden four in this one) and you join them when they go to the Quidditch Cup final.

Word count: 1,5k

A/N: ok, so, it’s my first ever fic, so I’m not sure how it came out, but I couldn’t help myself to not post it and find out what people may think. It’s pretty slow I think, but just because I didn’t feel like diving head first to the good bits I have in mind, I needed the sort of intro, and if it’s generally any good, hopefully there’ll be more?? looking forward to feedback, the good and the bad. And english is not my first language so sorry if anything sounds funny

1994 Saturday, August 24th

You arrived at the Burrow in the afternoon, along with Hermione. It was the day before the Quidditch Cup final, Ireland vs. Bulgaria. Although your brothers were also going, you decided to accept Ron’s invitation as it would be more exciting and give you a chance to do something new with three of your best friends. You had to admit, you didn’t expect Hermione to come, as she wasn’t the biggest Quidditch fan, but the idea of such a huge event, gathering wizards from all over the world must’ve been too tempting.

You had to admit that evening was filled with excitement, you and your friends tried to casually hang out like you have many times before, but your thoughts always seemed to look forward to waking up Monday morning and heading out for the event.

The next day at five o’clock the boys – Ron, Fred and George went to pick up Harry from the Dursleys’ place. You wondered to yourself whether all of them going was really necessary, or how bad could it go. But there was also a part of you that was just curious what would come out of it. And so, you were currently sat at the table, talking to Bill and Charlie. Pretending you’re not waiting for the party to come back.

You didn’t have to wait long. First, it was Fred, along with his smug expression. You couldn’t help but look at him curiously. He caught your eye and understood, but didn’t say anything. He just smirked, gave you the smallest nod and looked away, as if telling you to wait. So you did. A minute later came George, carrying a trunk which you recognised to be Harry’s. The moment he appeared, he was grinning, stumbled out of the fireplace with the trunk. He left it on the floor and high-fived Fred, now both twins already laughing. Then arrived Ron, his reaction similar. Your curiosity almost overflowing at this point. Soon, Harry fell out of the fireplace, Fred reaching out a hand to help him up. -Did he eat it? – he asked Harry. Who could he be asking about? And what did he eat? -Yeah. – Harry answered, getting up. -What was it? -Ton-Tongue Toffee. George and I invented them, we’ve been looking for someone to test them on all summer…

The boys started laughing, and you couldn’t help but chuckle too. -What exactly happened?! – you asked, looking between them, your eyes stopping on George for no reason at all. He grinned at you, then looked at Fred and they chuckled. You might’ve gotten an explanation if it wasn’t for Mr. Weasley’s arrival.

-That wasn’t funny, Fred! – he shouted. He looked angry, and you’ve never seen Arthur Weasley angry before, even with twins’ antics. It led you to wondering how often it happened. - What on earth did you give that Muggle boy? -I didn’t give him anything - said Fred, with another evil grin. – I just dropped it… It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to. -How big did his tongue get? - George asked eagerly. -It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it! - Harry and the Weasleys roared with laughter again. You were starting to put the pieces together. -It isn’t funny! - Mr. Weasley shouted. -That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard–Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons- -We didn’t give it to him because he’s a Muggle! - said Fred indignantly. -No, we gave it to him because he’s a great bullying git, - said George. -Isn’t he, Harry? – You were almost certain they were talking about Dudley, Harry’s cousin.

-Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley, - said Harry earnestly. Pranking people wasn’t new to Fred and George, and you had to admit, you didn’t always find it funny. But the fact that Harry never asked for any type of revenge on the git, yet the twins simply listened to his - sometimes subtle, sometimes not so much – complaints, gave you a new portion of admiration for the lads. Or maybe it just reminded you how much you already did admire them, even if you never said it out loud. -That’s not the point! -raged Mr. Weasley. - You wait until I tell your mother- -Tell me what? - said a voice behind them. Uh oh. Mr. Weasley didn’t know what to do, after all he didn’t really want to tell Molly. She inquired further. Hermione came in to the room behind her, quickly sensing what was about to go down. And so – you, the girls, Harry and Ron bolted upstairs with an excuse to settle Harry in.

You walked downstairs to help with dinner after the fight seemed to have stopped. Molly asked the girls to set the tables outside, so you did it, but while you were still close enough to hear, you listened as she complained about Fred and George, maybe more to herself than to Harry. How disappointed she is, how they’re wasting their brains, and how they’re not going to achieve anything or where things had gone wrong. You listened, and couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang in your heart – and the voice in your head that started to defend them. But after all, it wasn’t your problem.

The next morning, you were woken up by Mrs. Weasley while it was still dark. You definitely did not get enough sleep, but thanks to the adrenaline, you didn’t notice, though you’d certainly notice it later in the day. Your friends were all groggy, and after having breakfast you left – but not without Molly confiscating some more of twins’ Ton-Tongue Toffees they were surely hoping to get away with and sell.

The walk wasn’t too long. You were supposed to take a portkey on one of the hills near Ottery St. Catchpole. You weren’t the only ones, though. Amos Diggory appeared with his son, Cedric. -Hi -said Cedric looking around the teens, and all except for Fred and George (who were holding grudges after being defeated by Hufflepuff quidditch team the previous season) replied. -Hey, Y/N/N – he said, smiling kindly at you. You didn’t miss the look Ginny and Hermione exchanged. You knew Cedric. He was tall, handsome and smart – the golden boy, and the two of you shared a friend circle.

When you arrived at the campsite, you were all positively overwhelmed. You took in your surroundings, met some Hogwarts friends and settled into your tent. Inside, waiting for the match, you were hanging out in smaller groups. You got up from the chair you were sitting in to grab some water for yourself. Walking into the small tent kitchen, your thoughts still in the conversation you had with Harry, you bumped into someone’s chest. You looked up to see the face of your victim -Oh, sorry George! my bad - you said quickly and were about to pass him, when another long-haired ginger appeared behind his shoulder. -You so sure about that, love? – said Fred, smirking. -What, that I’m sorry? I mean it’s not like I knocked him off his feet but… - you said, well knowing where he was going with it. You knew damn well which was which. The three of you rarely spoke directly, often hanging out with the rest of your shared friends. But you always saw them. In the very beginning, when you started being friends with Ron and met his older brothers the young girl in you was excited for attention from boys who were two whole years older than you – which seemed basically adult at the time. You liked them both and couldn’t decide which one more. Through the years, needless to say, you calmed down a bit. You also got to know their respective personalities and although your childish crush never got serious, you were still happy to receive any kind of attention – from one of them this time, George. They gave each other the look and both stepped to the side to let you pass, which you did. -Didn’t think you’d be so sure about telling us apart, is all – said George. A slight disappointment. You decided to turn the funny on. You feigned hurt, put your hand up to your heart and looked back at them -That’s sad! I know you don’t talk to me as much but I still know you – you turned more serious. With a small smile, you said -And I like to think we’re friends. It clearly took them a bit by surprise. -Yeah.. Yeah, we are, of course. -Said Fred, nodding. George nodded too, with a kind smile on his face. With that, they left.

It wasn’t long before the match began. The events that followed. Now, you were just looking forward to being back at Hogwarts and find out what kind of surprise everyone was whispering about.

Part 2

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #x reader #harry potter imagine

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official-weasley · 3 years

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Meant to Be (Charlie Weasley x OC)

What happens when Bill brings home a girl and Charlie is completely awestruck by her?

WARNINGS: curse words, angst

Chapter 11

Charlie

I woke up the next morning wishing I was dreaming. I felt like not getting out of bed at all but I will not allow my feelings to interfere with my job. It was the only good thing I had going for me now that I lost all hope of ever being more than friends with Rhylee.

I got up and thanked Merlin when I saw that it was cloudy. If I would go to watch the sunrise and she would be there, I don’t know what I would do. I was so upset last night that I forgot to check my team’s schedule for the next month.

I was still determined to fix my relationship with Bill. I simply have to. It’s time to return to my roots. Being grateful for my job and being the best sibling I can be. That’s what I was all about before I met Rhylee and my world turned upside down.

I sighed and got out of bed. I sat down at the kitchen table, the timetable in front of me. Theo has two days off this week and so does Evan. John and Andrew are free the week after that. And then I could take time off when Rhylee comes back. It was hard to be two people short at once during mating season so we had to plan accordingly.

It’s settled then, I will go and visit Bill at work in three weeks. Hopefully, he won’t slam the door in my face. I still can’t believe what an idiot I am. I really messed up.

I decided to go to the nearby village and check out their library for books I could give Rhylee for her case. I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore but I didn’t want to show her how much she hurt me either. The sooner it’s over the better. And I wanted to help the dragon. I don’t want a single one to be executed if there is anything I can do to prevent it.

I could apparate to the library but I decided to walk instead. It’s supposed to be my day off anyway and why not take it for once. I don’t remember the last time I had a day off and if last night isn’t good enough of a reason for me to take a little break then I don’t know what is.

My mind was completely blank walking there. I didn’t have the energy to think about anything. Every time Rhylee or last night came to mind I tried to shake it off. I can’t think about it because it breaks my heart all over again and I can’t keep doing this to myself.

I only had a broken heart once before. It was when Emma and I broke up the summer after we graduated from Hogwarts. We started dating a month before our sixth year and we were very happy together. She was my first love and I wouldn’t change a thing. When I found out I got a job at the Sanctuary we started to talk about our future. She applied for a position to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Ilvermony and when she got her letter we knew it will be very difficult for us to see each other.

We both started right after graduation and we barely had the time to write to each other during summer. I was busy learning, getting acquainted with all the dragons, and getting assimilated to the working schedule and she had to train all summer and prepare to start the semester in September. When we finally had a chance to see each other in August, we both knew it’s not going to work out no matter how much we would like to try long-distance.

We agreed that it’s better if we go our separate ways and broke up. The only time we communicate now is when we send each other a birthday card.

It hurt, letting her go, but at least I had a choice. At least I knew what I was doing and I had a clean slate. This was nothing like it and it terrified me that I was still so attracted to Rhylee even though I don’t know what she was playing at. It’s like I just can’t let her go.

I spend a few hours in the library, going through books, making notes, trying to think of anything that might provide evidence of the dragon’s innocence. I was glad I decided to go. It was a good distraction and I forgot just how much I love reading, checking facts, and learning something new, especially if it had to do with dragons and other creatures.

I found a book on creature trials and one called Dragons and the Law. I decided to give them to Rhylee so she could see if they could be of any help. I dreaded not knowing when the trial is going to happen because it meant I didn’t know for how long I will have to pretend that I am okay with us being friends. I was planning on distancing myself from her as soon as everything is over.

Besides those two books, I took a few for myself. If I wanted to find myself again, I have to start reading as I used to. It made me happy and I think I will need a lot of those moments if I’ll be working alongside Rhylee for what can be the rest of my life.

I went for a run when I came back and paid Ernie a visit. His positivity and cheerfulness were something I needed to surround myself with. I don’t think I ever spent so much time in his office but damn he made me laugh. He gave me a letter from my mum and Ron and a package from Fred and George. At this point, I wasn’t even expecting anything from Bill.

I am glad that I’ve opened mum’s letter first as she warned me that the twins might send me something from their newly opened shop. They did it! They finally did it! They told me about it in one of their letters and made me swear I wouldn’t tell mum. I wanted to give them some money as I supported their dream but they said they are well taken care of.

I have no idea where they got the money from but I just wanted to be there for them. It made me feel good to be a good older brother to at least 2 of my siblings.

Because I was so ecstatic for them I decided to open the gift they sent me anyway. I carefully unwrapped it and slowly removed the cover with my eyes narrowed and my head leaned back just in case something would jump out. I have learned through the years that with them, you have to be prepared for anything.

It looked like candy. They were joking, right? I took it out of the box and found a little note at the bottom.

Something to prank your mates with.

Thank you for being on our side, Charlie.

Love, Fred and George

I felt like crying. I know to them it was a simple gesture but this meant so much to me. It was right what I needed. At least I did something right. It warmed my heart that they felt supported by me and I couldn’t wait to visit their shop.

Something to prank my mates with, huh?

I picked up one of the wrappers. It looked like regular candy. I squinted my eyes to read the label.

Ton-Tongue Toffee.

That didn’t sound so bad. If it wasn’t their invention I would dare trying it but I knew better. Perhaps I will give one to Theo. He always liked to talk too much, maybe these could fix that.

I spent the rest of the day reading on the sofa. Merlin’s beard did I miss it. How could I not have an entire wall of books in my home? I need to write to Hagrid if he still has that one book about dragons he used to lend me when I was still in school. I would love to reread it and I loved the illustrations in it.

When I finally tore my eyes off the book to check the time, I couldn’t believe it was time for dinner already. I decided to put on some clothes.

Yes, I was reading naked.

I live alone and I felt like it and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

It was the new Charlie!

I tucked the books for Rhylee under my arm and exited my hut.

I knocked on her door and the second I did I heard movement inside.

“Charlie, hi.” She looked even more upset than she did yesterday.

The dark circles under her eyes indicated that she slept almost as little as I did.

“I don’t want to bother you.” I started. I saw something shift in her eyes. “I was in the library this morning and found these two books that I reckon could help you with the case.” I explained.

I couldn’t believe how calm I was. I don’t know if it was because I was still mad at her or I simply didn’t have the energy to care anymore. My heart was still bumping against my rib cage but it was easier to ignore it this time.

“Thank you.” She carefully took the books from my hands, her eyes on mine.

I hated the way she was looking at me. As if she was sorry. As if she felt bad for what happened last night. I hated that I could read her like a book and I hated how much I wanted to ask her what’s wrong and why is she so upset as it was clear, something was going on in her life.

We might be friends but I can’t be there for her right now. I have to get my life in order first. I have to take care of myself and my family. As much as I wanted to, I can’t make her a priority again because I know the second I do, I will fall right back in and I can’t trust myself with getting out.

And she has Nick for that, right?

“Want to come in?” She said as she went to put the books on her coffee table.

“No. I’m going to go have dinner with the guys.” My voice was completely emotionless.

“Oh. Okay.”

Don’t sound so disappointed, Rhylee. You don’t get to sound like that. I can’t feel sorry for you.

“Look, about last night…”

“Don’t.” I shook my head.

I don’t want to talk about it ever again. Especially not with her.

“It’s okay. I understand.” I smiled awkwardly as I didn’t know what else to do.

“It’s just…” She bit her lip and bowed her head. “I…”

“Look, Rhylee. It’s really not a big deal.”

It was but okay.

“I have to go, they are waiting for me.” Without waiting another second I turned around and walked away.

Fuck, why was it so hard! I just left her standing there in the doorway. It was killing me but I knew it was the right thing to do…for me at least.

I sat next to Andrew and started eating my dinner. I just remembered that I haven’t eaten at all today. They were all waiting for me to say something but I pretended I was too busy eating to notice.

“Charlie, we’re sorry about yesterday.” Evan was the first to speak.

“Yeah, it wasn’t our business and we shouldn’t have told you to go and see her.” John followed.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you did it.” I mumbled with my mouth full.

“You are?” Theo looked puzzled.

“Yeah.” I finally swallowed the food. “If you didn’t I don’t know when I would make a move and it already took too long for me to find out she was dating someone.”

“I still can't believe it.” Andrew shook his head. “I know she’s very private but one might think you would mention your partner at least once.” They all nodded in agreement.

“Or at least that she would tell you.” Peter spoke for the first time.

“Why me?” I looked up at him.

“Well, you’re better friends with her than we are. You went running together and you trained her and…you have history.” The lot nodded their heads again.

“Doesn’t matter now, does it?” I tried not to sound too disappointed.

“We’re sorry, Charlie.” Evan said gently.

“We promise, we won't mention it again.” Andrew put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it.

“Thanks.” I really appreciated that they understood and didn’t press the matter further.

I couldn’t be angry with them. They only wanted me to be happy and they couldn’t know it would turn out so bad. I definitely didn’t expect it.

“What are you going to do now?” Theo asked after a brief pause.

“I’m going to talk to Bill.” I put my fork down. “Rhylee told him that we slept together so that confirms why he hasn’t been writing to me for so long. I haven’t seen him in two years and I can’t believe I let this happen.” I pressed my fingers to my temples.

“Charlie, everybody makes mistakes. You’re only human.” Peter said slowly.

“Do you think he’ll be able to forgive me after such a long time?” I lifted my head.

“Get off it, Charlie!” Theo slammed the table with his fist. “He’s your brother. Of course, he will!”

I wish I had Theodore’s confidence in that. Bill is the nicest, sweetest guy I know and he didn’t hold a grudge against anybody.

But two years!

I would kick my arse if I was him. And then I would heal myself and do it again.

“Peter, I will take two days off in three weeks to go and see him.” I remembered that I have to tell him if I leave the Sanctuary.

We could take a day or two off if we scheduled it in advance without saying anything like I did today. But if you plan on being outside of the Reserve we had to tell Peter so that he knew that if anything goes wrong or if he would need another pair of hands that he can’t come and knock on your door for you to help.

“Charlie, if you want we can switch days and you can go in two days.” Theo offered.

“That’s very nice of you, mate.” I smiled.

That meant a lot to me.

“But I have to figure out what to say to him anyways and I need to find a way to ask one of my siblings to tell me where to find him. I don’t want mum to know that we aren’t talking. It’s a miracle I was able to keep it a secret for such a long time anyway.”

“In three weeks it is.” Peter made a mental note.

“You’re going to be fine, Charlie.” John said. “Just give it time.”

“Yeah, I know.” I sighed.

First I get my brother back and then I’ll focus on mending my heart.

#harry potter fanfiction #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #the weasleys #weasley family #hp imagine #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley imagine #the burrow #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x mc #bill weasley #harry potter #wizarding world

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weasleydream · 4 years

Text

A story of love, pain and shitty parents - Part 1

Heyyyy here is the first part!

So there’s a little bit of violence, but it’s just the beginning 😇

Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Prologue

Almost five years later

“Y/N what the hell are you doing?”

Fred was calling for me from downstairs. I was still in Ginny’s room, frantically looking for my green sweater. I couldn’t go to the Quidditch World Cup and support my favourite team without my green sweater. No, impossible. But a loud sigh escaped my lips when I finally saw it folded on a chair behind me. I quickly slipped into it and managed to store the room, because it was a mess. Soon Fred barged in and, without a word, dragged me in the kitchen where George, Arthur, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione were already eating their breakfast. Molly was nowhere to be seen. Some groans welcomed me. Obviously, everyone was a bit tired. Well, I was too, because barely four hours of sleep weren’t enough for me, but the excitement I was feeling helped me staying perfectly awake. Glancing at Fred, I noticed his ruffled hair and almost closed eyes. He seemed to be exhausted too.

That wasn’t a surprise: I had stayed in the living-room with Fred and George after everyone went to sleep. We had discussed about the winners of the finale of the World Cup: we happened to be all sure the Irish team would win. However, the twins were sure Viktor Krum, the bulgarian seeker, would catch the Golden Snitch. “Impossible.” I had answered. “Aidan Lynch is way too skilled.” A playful argument had started, only interrupted by Molly who wanted us to go to sleep.

A few hours later, we were on the verge of leaving when Molly caught George trying to hide some Ton-Tongue Toffees. Here we are. Three seconds later, a true explosion shook the house and I escaped the infuriated woman by following Ginny.

“Unbelievable…” I murmured. “I told them not to take the Toffees. And did they listen? Of course not.”

“What did you expect from them?” answered Ginny. “I thought you knew them better than that. They only do what Mum doesn’t want them to.”

“I swear they are driving me crazy.” I said while looking them passing in front of me and ignoring me. The poor boys were upset because I had left them alone in front of their mother.

“I think Fred is driving you crazy more than George. Am I wrong?”

“Of course you’re wrong.” I answered with a nonchalant tone.

I needed all my will to hide the blush on my cheeks and Ginny’s knowing look didn’t help. Instead of facing the imminent threat of revealing my secret to my crush’s sister, I accelerated and slightly pushed the boys to make some room between them.

“Here’s the quitter.” mumbled George.

“Ooh,” I mocked. “Mummy did really scare you as it seems. You wanted me to wet my pants with you so that you would look less childish?”

George rolled his eyes and Fred chuckled. I eyed him suspiciously.

“You seem way too happy for someone who just lost all opportunity to gain money. What are you hiding from me?”

“You know me too well, dear Y/N. But why would we trust you with something as important as this?”

I pretended to think about the answer.

“Because despite what you say, I know you both love me and I’ve kept plenty of terrible secrets for you in five years of school.”

“True enough.”

Fred managed to show me the content of his bag without Arthur seeing anything. I was so absorbed by my conversation with Fred (at some point, George had sped up and joined Harry and Ron) that I didn’t realize everyone in front of us had stopped on the top of a hill.

“The portkey shouldn’t be far from here!” shouted Arthur.

We separated and I found myself next to George. We almost had the nose in the grass as we didn’t even know what it would be like. Something suddenly landed on my back and George coughed, as if he wanted to hide a laugh. I turned around and saw Fred, a few meters away from me. His hand was above his eyes like someone who had just aimed right and he was smiling goofily. Then my eyes fell on the old dirty boot and I screamed.

“You’re gross Fred!”

George couldn’t hide his laugh anymore and soon his twin and I joined him. Maybe it was the fatigue, fact is that we were still crying and holding our ribs five minutes later, when the rest of the Weasley family, Harry, Hermione and the Diggorys finally understood something was up with us.

“Good, you’ve found the portkey!”

“Merlin, how could Lynch be so stupid?”

I wiped away another tear as we gathered around the shoe. From the corner of the eye I saw Fred wiggling his eyebrows to me the exact moment I put my hand on the boot and my chuckle drowned into the hissing of the wind carrying us to the world cup.

_ _ _

I was struggling to stay behind the twins as we were slowly downing the bleachers stairs to join our tents. The match had just finished and, as hard as it was to admit, these two idiots were right. Krum had caught the snitch. Even if their long ginger hair were the only thing of them I could see - and it was quite practical, or else I would have been lost in the crowd in no time - I knew they were making fun of me while I was grumbling.

“I mean, the first time, okay. But doing the same error a second time?”

“Maybe he had drunk too much butterbeer before…” said George.

“Or maybe he was distracted by the Veelas. I mean, have you seen them?” added Fred.

I had just arrived between them but I was too busy being jealous and slightly hurt to catch the playful look in his eyes.

“Fact is that you’ve lost your bet, dear Y/N.” continued George.

“What will be our reward?” Fred’s voice was teasing.

“Nothing. We didn’t bet anything.”

My voice came a bit more harsh than expected. I decided to avoid any question and quickened my pace to join Hermione and Ginny. The latter sent me a questioning look but by the time she knew better than just ask me what was wrong when I was upset. Plus… how could I admit I was jealous of a few Veelas just because Fred thought they were pretty? It was a very girly problem and I had never been like that. The only girly thing in me was my mother’s necklace. It had never left my neck in five years. Never.

“Y/N?”

I jumped, not because of Fred’s voice but because of the sudden touch of his hand. I quickly composed myself before giving him a convincing smile, or so I hoped.

“Yeah?”

“What was that earlier?”

“Nothing, guess I’m a bit tired.”

The sun was slowly rising in the sky as we were making our way back to the Burrow. The eventful night had left my muscles sore and I hadn’t slept more than an hour. My brain was full of what had happened earlier, bad things like good. We had been sleeping for roughly an hour when Arthur had called for us. The camping was being destroyed by masked persons and a true chaos was reigning. Without losing a second, George had grabbed Ginny’s hand, Fred had grabbed mine, and we had run toward the forest at the entrance of the camping. As soon as we had arrived under the protection of the trees, Fred had wrapped me in a relieved embrace and I had felt like nothing could ever happen to me. Above his shoulder, where my head was resting, I had seen Ginny’s smirk and, slightly panicked, I had pulled him, pretending to be looking for the others. We had waited for them for what had felt like hours before finally joining our tents to try to get some sleep. It seemed like no one had succeeded because right now, as we were walking down the hill near the Burrow, I was pretty sure we were looking like a bunch of Inferi.

He frowned and I saw he was on the verge of saying something, probably not to take him for an idiot and tell him why I had snapped like that, but I anticipated and lightly kissed his cheek before fleeing in the tent, my bright red cheeks matching his without any of us knowing.

_ _ _

A worried sick Molly welcomed us and as Arthur was reassuring her and Ginny was preparing some tea, I let myself fall on the couch and closed my eyes. Almost immediately, I felt a weight next to me and I knew who it was. I rested my head on Fred’s shoulder and he wrapped his arm around mine.

“I’m sorry for yesterday.”

His voice was hoarse, like always when he was tired. I loved hearing him talking when his voice was like this, it happened often at Hogwarts when we sneaked out the common room with George and sometimes Lee. It also happened each time I spent holidays at the Burrow.

“Why would you be sorry?”

“I’ve thought about it all night.” I lifted my head and looked at him, surprised. He was deadly serious and I couldn’t help but think he was really cute when he had this tired yet determined expression. “I said something that upsetted you, and I’m sorry. You know, you don’t need to be a Veela to be pretty, Y/N.”

Honestly, dying on the spot would have been less embarrassing than stuttering like an idiot while all the blood of my body was rushing in my cheeks. I definitely felt like fainting when he kissed my forehead.

“Everyone in bed! Come on, you all need to rest!”

Molly, who had gained back her strict-mother-self, literally saved my life as she clapped her hands behind us. The little bubble around Fred and I suddenly disappeared and we both jumped on our feet. Fred almost ran to George and I quickly followed Ginny, hissing in passage that she better had to shut up. Obviously, Ginny was not the kind of girl that shuts up whenever something happens in front of her and this time wasn’t exception.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed as soon as the door was closed. “You like my brother! I knew it!”

“Ginny, don’t talk that loud please! He could hear you!”

“Y/N, dear, you have to wake up.” Someone whispered in my ear. “Y/N, your father is here.”

The little demon stayed totally indifferent as I begged her. She was gloating, probably imagining a world where she would be surrounded by plenty of babies looking like Fred and I. I sighed and laid in my bed, deciding I didn’t want to hear her babbling about my possible future relationship with him.

_ _ _

It was enough to wake me up. In fact, I sat so fast that my head almost bumped in Molly’s one. The room was dark as Ginny had closed the curtains, and filled with loud snores. Molly sent me a little smile to show me she was sorry even though she didn’t specify why she was. I doubted it was because she had woken me up in the middle of a really needed sleep. No, she knew about the kind of relationship I had with my father. In fact, it wasn’t difficult to figure it out: I knew I had the habit to frown each time someone mentioned him near me, and since my first year at Hogwarts, I had always done everything in my power to avoid the holidays with him. But no one knew who he was really. No one knew about his crisis, about the nights he yelled on Mary or on me for whatever reason, about the evenings I knew I shouldn’t approach him because a glass of whiskey accompanied him. No one, not even Fred and George.

I quickly gathered my things and got out of the room as quietly as possible. I followed Molly, dodging the squealing steps as naturally as her. When we arrived in the living-room, I saw my father waiting for me in front of the door. He was nervously pacing and regularly passing an hand in his short salt-and-pepper hair. I had rarely seen this tension in his body. He wasn’t the kind of man who lost easily his calm, not in public anyway, and certainly not the kind to show fear.

“You’re here. Come on, we don’t have all day.”

His voice snapped like a whip. His piercing blue eyes landed on me, and an imperceptible move of his eyebrow convinced me I should obey. I threw a little smile to Molly, who was watching my father with her lips pursed, and quickly followed him. As soon as we stepped in the neglected garden, he grabbed my wrist and we apparated in front of the manor.

The thickets hadn’t been trimmed in years, neither had been the trees. The marble statues, once magnificent, were now nothing more than the vestiges of the past splendour of the mansion. The path leading to the door was invaded by weeds and grass and some slabs were broken. The imposant white building in front of us was giving an impression of coldness that had taken over the place since the day my mother had died.

The heavy wooden door closed loudly behind me and I turned just in time to see Mary fleeing in a corridor that leaded to the kitchen, her head down. I briefly wondered why she acted like this and why she didn’t even look at me before my name echoed in the main corridor in front of me.

“Y/N, move!”

I dropped my things, knowing that Mary would appear to get them to my room, and followed my father. I found him in the huge dining room, standing straight in front of the fireplace. All I could see was his back but I didn’t dare to approach and see his facial expression.

“You were at the world cup.”

It wasn’t a question, and I didn’t answer. He knew perfectly why I had insisted to go to the Weasleys earlier this summer.

“Did you see the attack?”

He suddenly turned toward me and I couldn’t help but take a few steps backward. His eyes were round and looked like they would leave their orbit. A vein was palpitating in his neck and he was compulsively tightening his wrist. I nodded, my throat too dry to let me say anything.

“Tell me. Everything. Now!” He yelled when I didn’t answer.

I began to tell him everything I remembered, which in fact wasn’t a lot. I told him about the masked persons, the fire, how much they had loved humiliating these muggles. I added timidly Arthur had warned us they were Death Eaters and an heavy silence took place. My father was pacing in front of the chimney. He was mumbling so low I didn’t understand one word, and he seemed to have totally forgotten I was here. I didn’t move, though, too afraid he still needed me. He was in a nervous state I couldn’t even suspect and my worried eyes were fixed on his wand, firmly held in his hand.

“In your room.”

I didn’t lose time and almost ran toward my room. Surprisingly, my bags were on the floor in front of my door. Usually, Mary would at least put them in the room. The feeling that something was wrong crept in me and I stayed unable to forget it. When diner finally came, I headed directly in the kitchen. When she saw me, Mary found a sudden interest in the first pan she could grab and royally ignored me when I asked her what was wrong. I sighed and took the plate of sandwiches she had let on the table. I would eat alone in my room, and I couldn’t help but feel sad when I imagined the table of the Burrow’s kitchen, animated and surrounded by people I loved like my family.

Each day until the first of september was exactly the same as this one. My father had never talked to me that much, only because he seemed obsessed with what had happened at the world cup. I noticed he received more visits than usual but he had made me understand I wasn’t welcome when it happened. Mary also ignored me, which was what worried me the most. I only understood why the day before my departure.

I was looking for the Weasley sweater Molly had knitted me the previous year. I had forgotten it when I had packed my things the first time and I wanted to ask Mary if she had seen it. I went in the kitchen first: it was empty. I was going to go in the lavery when shouts echoed from the dining room. I tiptoed and hid behind the door.

“I forbid you to tell anything.” My father’s voice was colder than I had even heard it and I shivered when I imagined Mary cowering in front of him. “From now on, you haven’t seen anything. You don’t know anything. You better have kept your mouth shut, and you better continue. Am I clear?” A silence, followed by a weak squeal. “Am I clear?”

“Yes…” Mary answered in a sob.

I decided to see what was happening and slightly opened the door, just enough for me to see the scene. Mary was in front of my father, she was on her knees. He was tightening his wrist in the same compulsive movement I had seen before and his eyes were throwing lightnings. He gave his back to Mary and was ready to leave by the other door when she mumbled something. If I didn’t hear, my father obviously did and he turned vividly toward her.

“What did you just say?” He yelled.

“I said you must be terrified.” I couldn’t see her face, but I pictured myself an insane expression on it. “After all, you’ve crawled at the Ministry's feet when -”

I hadn’t closed my eyes in the last 24 hours. Even though staying impassive in front of my father had been mentally exhausting, I feared the flash of green light would appear behind my closed eyelids if I slept. The noise in the Hogwarts Express helped me staying awake. The problem? I had to face Fred and George’s questions.

She never ended her sentence. A green lightning enlightened everything and Mary’s body fell lifeless on the floor.

_ _ _

They had wanted to know why I had left so quickly, of course, but as soon as they had realized I wasn’t in my normal state, they had also wanted to know what was bothering me.

“Come on Y/N, you know you can tell us everything, right?” had pleaded Fred.

But I had stayed resolutely silent, dreading the tears that would surely come as soon as I would open my mouth. Somewhere in the middle of the travel, they had given up, but I had noticed how they tried to make sure that one of them was always with me and how they kept an eye on me.

The feast passed in a blur, and so did the first week at Hogwarts. Everyone had noticed I wasn’t my normal self, but even Professor McGonagall hadn’t been able to make me spill the bean. I had received plenty of letters from Molly, and even one from my father. However, it was really short; in fact, what he had to say was expressed in one sentence: Stop whatever you’re doing. He was probably afraid someone would find out about Mary.

Deep down, I knew I would give up one day or another. I knew the twins could be really persuasive, and I could feel the weight of what I had witnessed slowly crushing me. I just didn’t think it would be in the middle of the Charms class.

Indeed, it was always a very animated class, very favourable to discussions. After a few failed attempts to know why I was acting so weird, Fred and George decided to give me space and began to chat with Lee and Angelina. I tried not to listen to what they were saying but they were sitting just next to me and a few words inevitably arrived to my ears.

“No George, I’ve told you not to cover me in ink and you still did so, I won’t help you with this essay!” exclaimed Angie. “Fred, drop this stupid look right now, you won’t tenderize me with these goo goo eyes of yours!”

“Come on Angelina, what could we do to be forgiven?” asked Fred.

“Do you want us to crawl at your feet?” added George.

Angelina’s answer wasn’t what I heard.

After all, you’ve crawled at the Ministry's feet… The green flash… You haven’t seen anything. You don’t know anything. Am I clear? Yes… Sobs… Y/N? Y/N?

“Y/N!”

I suddenly became aware of the gazes on me. The class was obviously over and the only persons present were gathered around me. Professors Flitwick and McGonagall were here, the latter obviously warned by Professor Flitwick who was still panting. Fred and George were sitting at each of my sides, both holding tightly my shoulders. Fred’s fingers were slightly sinking in my flesh and this detail helped me coming back to my senses.

“Y/N do you hear me?”asked Fred with a strong voice.

A relieved sigh escaped everyone’s mouth as soon as I nodded. It was a weak movement but it seemed to be the first in a certain time.

“What happened?”

I feared no one had heard me as my voice was quieter than a whisper but Fred answered, because he had heard or just because he knew I would ask that.

“You froze, Y/N. You didn’t react when we called you…”

“You seemed terrified.” finished George.

Tears immediately pooled in my eyes as I remembered what I had heard. I understood I would have to say something. The weight had become too heavy for me. However, murderer or not, this man was still my father. What would happen if someone knew what he had done? He was a respected member of the Ministry of Magic, he was moving in its highest circles. Would he have troubles? No matter what he had done to me, I just couldn’t bring him troubles like this. Plus, would he hesitate to make me suffer the same treatment as Mary?

“Y/N, now you have to tell us. I won’t let you the choice.” warned Fred.

His serious voice let me know he wasn’t kidding.

“Not now.” I managed to say. “Too tired.”

It wasn’t a lie, and as if my body wanted to prove my point, I yawned extensively and my eyes almost closed by themselves. I barely heard Professor McGonagall asking Fred to bring me back to the common room and allowing him and his twin to stay with me for the day.

I woke up after a needed rest in the middle of the afternoon. I was curled up in a tight ball on the Gryffindor common room couch. Fred and George were both sitting on another one next to mine, and they jumped on their feet when they finally saw my open eyes.

“How are you feeling?” asked George. “You frightened us, you know.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you before…” I murmured.

Without really thinking about it, my decision was taken.

“Told us what?”

And I told them everything. The violence my father had made me known, the murder. Everything. Once I had begged them not to say anything to anyone, not even Molly, I stayed silent and looked at them.

To say they were shocked would be a massive understatement. They stayed silent for a long time, their expressions matching and turning more and more angry as the time passed. I was beginning to fear an explosion.

“I’m sorry,” murmured Fred. “I… I should’ve seen… I-”

“No!” I exclaimed, making him jump. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I didn’t want you to know, I would have never let you figure it out. Just please, promise me you’ll keep it a secret. Please!”

“Why would we do that?” George’s voice was awfully calm. “Why would we cover him whereas you’ve suffered because of him all these years? He killed the woman you loved like your own mother!”

“I know!” I cried out. “I know that, George! I was there, remember? I just… I don’t know. I don’t know.” I repeated with the head down.

Another long silence took place, only broken by George.

“Sorry… We won’t say anything.”

“That’s a promise.” added Fred. “But you have to promise us something too. No more secrets.”

I nodded, too happy to know I could trust my favourite twins with this to realize how shitty my life had just become.

To be continued

Tags: @pregnant-piggy

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #fred weasley #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n

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fanfictionaries · 4 years

Text

Oh So Many Years: Ch. 14 - In The Morning

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

Hermione arrives at Grimmauld Place

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note:

I update every week before midnight on Sundays (US MST) (except that one time)!

Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog! xoxo

Masterlist

<<Chapter 13

I can't stop myself from calling calling out your name I can't stop myself from falling falling back again

July 17th came around sooner than Fred was truly ready for and before he knew it, his father and Ron were leaving Grimmauld Place to meet Hermione and her parents in Diagon Alley. They had extended the invitation to George and himself as well, but the two of them opted to stay behind to help Ginny get things ready for her arrival. Or at least that’s what George told their mum and dad. Instead, they planned to use that time to work on welcoming Hermione back the only way they knew how.

“Okay, we’ve got – fake wand, spitting teapot, nose-biting tea cup, Ton-Tongue Toffee, Canary Creams, those Nosebleed Nougats we’ve been working on, aaaaand then of course we can always just turn her scarf into a snake or something,” listed George, looking down critically at the products in his trunk.

“You’re overthinking it, mate,” said Fred, chewing on the side of his thumb as he shuffled through his work notes on the desk.

“Well then, please enlighten me Freddie,” George huffed, placing his hands on his hips and turning to his twin.

“We can just apparate downstairs as soon as she gets here and scare her. She’ll never see it coming.” It was true. While Fred and George had passed their apparition tests first try the previous spring, Hermione had not been around enough to see them practice.

“What? A jump scare? That seems a bit cheap, don’t you think?”

“Since when have you cared how we pull pranks?” laughed Fred. “You’ve never been particularly choosy before.” With satisfaction, Fred finally found the piece of parchment he’d been searching for and pulled it to the top of his pile of notes. It was his ingredient list for Fever Fudge. He and George had spent the entirety of their free time so far that summer developing a themed line for their business and Fred felt like they finally had it. Now they just needed to make the products. And they needed Hermione’s help. Hermione. The familiar twisting and churning in his stomach returned every time he thought of her. What was it about the little witch that made him so bloody nervous? His palms sweat, his neck got hot, and his stomach ached whenever her soon to be visit was brought to the forefront of his mind that week. It was ridiculous. It was only Hermione after all. Even if he did fancy her at one point, that was off the table now. He was with Angelina and she still fancied his brother. The only thing to do was to get back to normal, go back to the way things were before he found himself lusting after his baby brother’s friend, go back to when they were simply just friends.

“I suppose we could do it when she’s standing next to Walburga. That’ll certainly give her a fright,” mused George, closing his trunk with a heavy thump of the lid.

“Now you’re getting it, Georgie boy!” Fred stacked the parchment and moved around quills and ink bottles, doing his best to tidy up the small workspace. Hermione was sure to make a comment on their messiness the minute she saw it. She always did.

“You seem in better spirits—” George leaned casually against the wall near the open window and looked at Fred with an annoyingly knowing smirk “—Hermione’s visit wouldn’t have anything to do with that. Would it?”

Fred scoffed. “It has everything to do with her visit, Georgie. We need a pair of fresh eyes to go over these product designs and it’ll be someone else to talk to in this depressing place besides you.”

George opened his mouth, clearly ready to refute Fred’s statement when a large tawny owl soared through the open window and landed on the bottom left-hand corner of the desk. The owl had a stately, professional manner, akin to the owls used at Hogwarts. Taking the letter from its claws, Fred gave the owl a small treat and watched as it spread its wings and soared back out through the open window. He turned the envelope over in his hands and saw that it was addressed to him. The words were in a neat scrawl he recognized immediately, and so he tore into the envelope with enthusiasm.

Dear Fred,

I’m so sorry I haven’t written to you. Quidditch camp has kept me really busy. They have us running so many drills, I barely have the energy to eat at the end of the day. But, as I’m the new Gryffindor quidditch team captain (remember don’t tell anyone, it’s still a secret), it’s important that I know everything there is to know. I hope your summer is going well, though!

I will try to write more later, but I wanted to send you a quick note to let you know I’ve gotten your letters.

Yours,

Angelina

P.S. – You won’t believe who’s an instructor here. Oliver Wood! Can you believe it?

Fred threw the letter down onto the desk with a sigh. She clearly hadn’t read his letters. If she had, then she would have known that his summer was not going well. Feeling close enough with Angelina and taking the fact that she was his girlfriend into consideration, he’d shared with her his lamentings of his overbearing mother and the general stodginess of the home they were currently staying in. He hoped to get a tad bit of sympathy or maybe even acknowledgement. But instead, he got a few short lines and news on Oliver Wood. He smirked at the last bit. At least he could be certain that Oliver Wood was there to torture her with his insane quidditch practices and long-winded speeches on hard work and diligence.

“Who’s it from?” asked George.

“Angelina,” answered Fred, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his head as he stared at the discarded letter on the desk in front of him.

“What’s it say?”

The sound of the front door opening downstairs caught the pair’s attention and Fred stood, grabbing the letter, and tucking it into his pocket. “Don’t worry about it. Hermione’s here. Let’s go,” he said pointing to the door with a tilt of his head.

Sneaking down the hallway, they leaned over the banister and spied the top of Hermione’s frizzy head. They watched as she walked slowly down the entry hall, looking side to side as she took in the ominous visage of the ancient Black home. She was almost to the end of the hallway where it split into three separate directions when Fred looked to his brother and with a nod, and apparated. Fred felt the familiar pull at his navel and the thrilling sensation of the air being sucked from the space around him before he landed effortlessly beside Hermione. Half of a second later George appeared at her other side.

“Wotcher Granger!” they exclaimed in unison, immediately dissolving into laughter when Hermione jumped with fright. The poor little witch let out a startled yelp, falling back into the covered portrait of Sirius Black’s mother Walburga.

Upon being woken up the nasty woman began to spit her usual vitriol, “Filth! Mudbloods! Blood traitors! In my home! The disgrace! Out! Out!”

“Fred! George! How many times have I told you to leave that portrait be?!” screamed their mother, appearing in the kitchen doorway to their right.

“Wasn’t us mum!” yelled Fred in their defense, still trying to stifle his laughter.

“Yeah mum, Hermione’s the one that screamed and pulled the sheet down!” agreed George, slinging an arm over the shoulders of Hermione who currently looked incredibly displeased.

“Right, well I wonder why that was—” their mother scowled “—get! All of you, out of here while I fix this. Ron, help me, will you dear?”

Ron, who’d been leading Hermione down the hallway stepped forward and grabbed the sheet with their mum. Meanwhile, Fred and George followed their mother’s instructions and led Hermione into the kitchen.

“You two are biggest prats!” scolded Hermione, setting her bag down on the kitchen table.

“Maybe, but you still love us,” said George cheekily before pulling her into a tight hug. Hermione smiled, her irritation visibly melting away as she hugged George back. Once his twin brother had released her, Hermione turned to Fred, both of them fully intending to hug as well. But then they stopped, both jerking forward awkwardly before settling on a very stiff and uncomfortable handshake.

“Frederick,” she greeted him politely.

Fred cleared his throat before answer, “Granger.” They continued to shake hands, their arms sticking out in front of them for much too long as they stared at each other, unsure of what to say. “You’ve gotten taller,” Fred finally remarked, noticing the way she no longer came to his shoulder, but instead reached just past his chin. He released her hand lamely and brought it up to scratch the back of his head.

“Yes, well, it appears I’ve been through a bit of a growth spurt the last month or so,” she answered, before reaching for the clasp at her neck and divesting herself of her light travel robes. Growth spurt was right, thought Fred as he stared unabashedly at Hermione. Not only had she gotten taller, but her once lanky body had given way to a very womanly form. He exchanged a quick look with George, whose flabbergasted expression clearly stated that he too was witnessing the same phenomenon. Hermione Granger had gotten hot. Very hot. Swallowing thickly, Fred wanted nothing more than to burst into flames literally and figuratively. Being dead, he reasoned, would be better than dealing with the hot fresh hell of Hermione Granger surely coming into her own body the moment he had decided his attraction to her was off the table. Almost mockingly, the corner of the envelope that held Angelina’s letter poked into his thigh.

“Is that a new sweater, ‘Mione?” asked George. Fred shot a glare in George’s direction. While his question appeared to be innocent, Fred knew it was an obvious jab at the fact that not only was Hermione not wearing something three times her size, but the sweater in question outlined her new curves so perfectly that Fred had to consciously keep his eyes trained on her face.

“Oh—” Hermione looked down at her outfit “—yes. My mum insisted we go shopping before I left. Got me a whole new wardrobe and everything. Something about putting me in better spirits or something.”

“Why would you need to be in better—”

“My, my, my, well if it isn’t Hermione Granger,” the voice of Sirius Black cut Fred’s question off. He watched as Hermione turned excitedly and spotted the older wizard leaning against the doorframe that led into the dining room. The witch crossed the room enthusiastically, allowing Sirius to envelope her in a tight hug.

“Sirius! It’s so good to see you!” exclaimed Hermione, letting out a small squeak when Sirius lifted her into the air.

“Same to you,” he said with an exaggerated groan before setting her back on her feet and holding her at arm’s length. “Look at you! Is this really the same mousy little girl that saved my life two years ago?” asked Sirius teasingly before leading her to the kitchen table.

“Hold on a minute. We haven’t heard that story,” said George. The comment caught Fred’s attention as well. While the two had been informed by both Ron after his third year and their mum and dad that summer that Sirius Black was not the man they thought him to be, they had never heard exactly how he officially escaped his capture.

“Really? She only traveled back in time and road on the back of a hippogriff to break me out of my cell,” said Sirius, looking down proudly at a flushing Hermione. “Would you like some tea dear?” he asked Hermione.

“We’ll get it,” said George, pulling a stunned Fred around and towards the counter. “Well that’s interesting.”

“Which part?” asked Fred, reeling from the combination of Hermione’s figure, and finding out that she traveled through time?

George chuckled at his comment and the pair began to make a nice afternoon tea. Merlin, being able to use magic whenever he wanted was so convenient, thought Fred as with just a few flicks of their wands, the tea was prepared, and a nice plate of biscuits was ready. Levitating the cups, teapot, sugar, milk, and biscuits to the table, they took their seats at the table as well.

“Now, tell us all the sordid details of this breakout and don’t hold anything back,” said George firmly, reaching across the table and grabbing a biscuit.

Fred listened intently as Sirius began his story, grabbing a cup and preparing Hermione’s tea. She seemed surprised when he set the cup in front of her and even more surprised when she took a sip. The younger witch shot him a curious glance before taking another sip and grabbing a biscuit as well. What? Did she not think he remembered how she took her tea? wondered Fred before making his own.

By the end of his story, Sirius was smiling widely, Hermione was blushing furiously, and Fred and George were staring blankly. Ron, who had joined them halfway through, looked bored having already heard the story before from Harry and Hermione.

“Blimey,” said Fred, unsure of what else even to say. “Do you ever stop getting cooler, Hermione?” Fred’s ears grew hot in embarrassment, but the small smile Hermione gave him cooled the heat slightly.

“I’ve always been cool, Fred. Maybe you’ve just been too thick to notice.”

Fred gave a small chuckle, joined by the rest of the table. Just like that, the heavy weight of tension that had been present between him and Hermione since the moment she arrived lifted slightly.

“So, is anyone going to explain to me where I am exactly and what’s going on, or am I supposed to guess it at some point?” asked Hermione, looking around her with an exasperated look.

“I’m sorry kitten, I thought Arthur told you,” said Sirius.

Fred prickled. He didn’t quite like the way Sirius called her ‘kitten’.

“This—” Sirius motioned to the space around them “—is my childhood home. Left to me as the last living heir to the Black fortune. I volunteered it to Dumbledore for the Order.”

“The Order?” Hermione scrunched her brow in confusion.

“The Order of the Phoenix,” Ron chimed in, as if the name alone would be explanation enough.

“We’re like Death Eaters, but for the good side,” added George with a grin.

“Not yet you aren’t!” exclaimed their mum, striding into the kitchen with a scowl on her face.

Fred huffed in annoyance. He and George had been keen to join the Order ever since they learned about it, but their mum was adamantly against it. “Come on mum, we’re seventeen! It’s not your choice anymore.”

“Like hell it isn’t. You watch your tone with me Frederick Weasley. As long as you live under my roof, you do as I say. Is that clear?”

Fred and George rolled their eyes, turning back towards the table.

“There’s an Order meeting tonight Hermione,” said George.

“You can learn all about it after. Most of the members usually stay for dinner,” added Fred.

“In the meantime, don’t you want to check out your room?” George stressed the question, widening his eyes and tilting his head towards the door leading to the entry hall.

“Do I?—” Hermione gave them a confused look before her eyebrows lifted in realization “—I mean, yes, of course.” She stood from the table, moving to follow Fred and George out of the kitchen before stopping at the door and turning back to the table. “It was so lovely to see you again Sirius. Shall we catch up more later?”

“Absolutely kitten. Have fun…checking out your room.”

Fred grabbed Hermione around the upper arm, pulling her from the kitchen and back into the now silent entry hall. The portrait of Walburga Black was once again covered by the old sheet, but he watched as Hermione still gave it a wide birth. “Hold tight,” he said to the witch in his grasp before apparating them both up to his and George’s bedroom.

Hermione landed next to him, gripping the front of Fred’s shirt tightly in her fist as she doubled over, breathing heavily.

“Alright ‘Mione?” asked Fred, trying not to focus on the way she held onto him.

“You absolute BERK!” She released his shirt, reeling back to slap him across the chest. It stung a bit, but Fred laughed all the same, figuring he deserved it. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to apparate someone without telling them first?! It’s incredibly—oh god, I think I may be sick.”

“Come now, Hermione. That doesn’t sound like someone who time traveled and helped a convicted felon escape from authorities,” said George, walking past the two of them to open their trunks and begin pulling out products.

“Where did you even get a time-turner in the first place? Aren’t they regulated by the ministry?” asked Fred, walking over to gather his notes for Hermione.

“Professor McGonagall got it for me. She had to write a lot of letters to the ministry about how I was an exemplary student and wouldn’t use it irresponsibly. I signed up for every class, you see, and so the only way to take all of them was to use the time-turner.” Hermione had now straightened up. She looked a little less green as she walked towards them and peered down at products spread out across the bed.

Fred laughed. “If that isn’t the swottiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Watch it,” Hermione warned casually as she picked up a pair of extendable ears with equal fascination and revulsion. To be fair, the accurate imitation of flesh was a bit much, but that’s what Fred and George loved most about them.

“Speaking of swottiness—” George gave Fred an impish smirk before leaping forward and grabbing the large stack of parchment from Fred “—Fred made you this. It’s all our product designs, some of them old, some of them new, some of them not yet tested.”

“No notebook?” Hermione asked, exchanging for Extendable Ears for the stack of parchment, and looking at Fred with a teasing smile.

“Now, why would I give you my notebook? No, these are your copies,” admitted Fred, looking intently at Hermione’s face as she sorted through the pile.

“You made me copies. I’ve never known you to be so…fastidious Fred. Wow, you two really have been busy,” said Hermione in amazement as she continued to sift through the large pile of parchment.

“Yes, well, that’s about seven months of missed inventing time, Miss Granger. A lot happens when you’re not going about snogging professional quidditch players,” stated George.

“I was not going about snogging Viktor!” cried Hermione in indignation, turning the color of a ripe tomato.

“You weren’t?” Fred found himself asking, before he could stop himself.

Hermione looked back to him shyly, running her hands over her hair to flatten it down. Fred kept his eyes trained on the girl’s face, fighting very hard to not let them drift down to view the magnificent way her sweater stretched when she lifted her arms. “I mean…” Hermione drifted off, earning a wolf whistle from George who she promptly sent a scathing glare at.

Fred felt the all too familiar sinking feeling in his stomach return, but this time mixed with the overwhelming urge to take Hermione in his arms and kiss her till all thoughts of Viktor Krum were gone from her memory. He looked away from her, distracting himself with the products on the bed as he tried to process his reaction. It wasn’t his place to be jealous. Hermione was a free and single girl – she was more than welcome to snog whoever she wanted – and he had a girlfriend. He shouldn’t be jealous. He really shouldn’t be jealous. But he was.

A knock on their door pulled the three’s attention. The door opened to reveal Ron looking mildly annoyed.

“This isn’t your room ‘Mione. Yours is down the hall,” he said, crossing his arms and looking suspiciously at Fred and George.

“Hermione—” Ginny’s voice sounded from behind Ron “—come on! We’re sharing a room. I’ve got your bed all made up and everything.”

“Oh right. Fred and George were just showing me their summer homework,” Hermione replied, holding up the stack of notes in her hands.

Ron gave an obnoxious snort. “Sure. Come on, then. Before Ginny has a conniption.”

“Coming—” Hermione turned back to Fred and George “—I’ll have a look at these tonight.”

She turned, following Ron out of the room, and shutting the door behind her. It was silent in their room for a few moments as Fred stood staring at the place Hermione had just been.

“Merlin, did you see the baps on her!” George cried, sounding relieved to finally be alone just the two of them.

Fred couldn’t help but laugh against his better judgement, body shaking with chuckles as he turned to his twin who stared back at him with wide eyes.

“Come on now mate. It’s Hermione. Have some respect,” said Fred, flopping onto his bed and propping himself up against the headboard.

“Believe me, I have nothing but respect for them—” George followed his lead, lying down on his bed as well “—and in case you’ve forgotten, I’m a single bloke. I’m allowed to look. Couldn’t help but notice you paying your respects earlier. What’s your excuse?”

“I suppose I was rather surprised is all. She was fit before—”

“Was she?” George questioned, giving Fred a cheeky grin.

“I mean—” Fred stuttered over his words “—yeah, a bit.”

“But now she’s more your type?”

“I’m not answering that.” Fred rolled over on his side, facing away from his twin.

“Oh, come on Freddie. I’m a simple question.”

“No, it isn’t. Not when you’re leading me on – trying to weasel a specific answer out of me,” accused Fred. The whole conversation was like watching two trains headed towards each other on the same track. He could see the inevitable ending from a mile away but could still do nothing to stop it.

“Me? Weasel? Never. I’m just curious as to whether Hermione’s new shapely form has you wishing you’d asked her to the ball, instead of Angelina. That’s—”

“George, stop it.”

“—all. I’m sure now that she’s all filled out, she’d make a more than suitable girlfriend. The tits and ass would surely make up for her annoying bookish—”

“Oi! You’re my brother but say shit like that again and I’ll give the thrashing you deserve. You hear me?—” Fred turned over, glaring daggers at his brother in the bed beside him “—‘Mione’s got more to offer than just her body and in case you haven’t noticed, you benefit quite a lot from her annoying bookish personality. So just shut it.” He marked his words with a final sneer before turning back over and facing the door.

“Hmm, you’re right brother. My apologies.”

Fred didn’t need to see the smug expression on George’s face to know that he’d played right into his twin’s hands. He shouldn’t have let George’s goading get to him. He should have known that George was only saying those things to get him to slip up and admit something. George liked to play on Fred’s short temper. Always did. Staring hard at the dull dark wood grain of the bedroom door and the ornate trim that surrounded it, he wished more than anything he was in the comfort of their brightly colored bedroom back at the Burrow. At least there he could storm out, take his broom, and fly until he cooled down. But here, in the dingy, dark, confines of Grimmauld Place, he was trapped with his annoyingly perceptive twin one side of the door, and Hermione Granger on the other.

Hermione took in the sight of her shared bedroom in Grimmauld Place with perplexed curiosity. The ancestral Black home was unlike any other wizarding home she’d ever seen. Albeit she’d only ever been in one wizarding home before – the Burrow – and that, she was told, wasn’t necessarily “normal” as far as wizarding homes went. But still, the rich, dark atmosphere of Grimmauld Place and the things that inhabited it spoke depths on the history, ideals, and opulence of the Black family. She ran her fingers along the intricate carvings on the sleigh that was now temporarily hers.

“So, this is yours and my room! I made sure to get a bedspread you’d like and did my best to clean up. You wouldn’t believe the amount we spend cleaning these days, and the place still looks dirty all the time!” Ginny threw her hands up into the air in exasperation, walking over to her side of the room and kicking a dirty jumper into the corner.

“How long have you been here?” asked Hermione, sitting down on her trunk, which had already been placed at the foot of her bed.

“Pretty much since the day summer started. It’s been a real drag. I hoped to do a bit of flying this summer, you know, play a bit of quidditch. But this place only has a small garden and because we’re in the middle of muggle England, we can’t go too far in case we’re seen. I’m so glad you’re here now though, it’s nice to have another girl around besides mum, and Tonks on the occasion,” said Ginny, collapsing onto her bed and pulling a licorice wand out of her pocket. She took a large bite off the end of it and chewed it aggressively.

“Who’s Tonks?”

Ginny gasped dramatically, sitting up and turning over to face Hermione on her stomach. “She’s an Order member – auror for the ministry. She’s so cool. She’s a metamorphmagus so she can change her appearance to whatever she wants and she’s young so she’s always turning her hair purple or blue. Plus, she listens to the coolest music and wears the coolest clothes.”

“Sounds…cool,” said Hermione, flatly, brain still hazy from her interactions with Fred earlier. She certainly never expected to spend so much time with him from the moment she walked through the front door. Seeing and speaking with Sirius had been a nice distraction, but there was still how Fred made her tea perfectly and the way he quite literally pulled her from the room. To top it all off, he presented her with an itemized list of his invention notes. Was he purposefully trying to drive her crazy? He must be, she thought in exasperation, considering he looked even more handsome now than the last time she’d seen him. While his long hair was gone, she found the new professional cut to be even more handsome, despite her preferences. Then of course, there was the ridiculously sexy way in which his t-shirt hung on his biceps. Merlin help her, maybe she should have just gone to France with her parents.

“Hermione!” Ginny’s voice brought Hermione out of her mental fog. Looking up, she found Ginny giving her a curious look.

“What’s got you all lost in thought?” Ginny asked mischievously. “Is it a boy?”

“Why would you possibly think it’s a boy, Ginevra?” scoffed Hermione in indignation.

“Because you had this big dopey look on your face like you were fantasizing about Professor Lockhart in second year.”

“I did not!” Hermione picked up a pillow and threw it at Ginny who artfully dodged it.

“Yes, you did! Now, who could it be…not Viktor surely, since you dumped him royally at the end of the year.” She tapped the end of her chin in thought.

“I did not dump him. We parted ways amicably.”

“Okay, okay, whatever you say. Do I know the person?”

Hermione nodded weakly, unsure as to why she was playing along.

“Neville?”

Hermione shook her head no.

“Harry? It’s alright if you do, seeing as I’m going with Corner now.”

Hermione shook her head again, this time more aggressively.

Ginny gasped, “It’s not one of my brothers, is it?”

Hermione hesitated for a second too long, resulting in a gleeful exclamation from Ginny.

“Well let’s see. It’s not Bill or Charlie since you’ve only met them once, it can’t be Percy because you do have some taste, Fred’s currently halfway up Angelina’s arse, so that just leaves George and Ron!” Ginny smiled widely, clearly pleased with herself.

“I—” Hermione began but was cut off swiftly by Ginny.

“It’s Ron, isn’t it? I knew it! You know, I’m pretty sure he’s keen on you as well. Wouldn’t shut up about how you should be here while we were clearing the pixies out of the parlor.”

“He wouldn’t?” asked Hermione, caught off guard by Ginny’s offhand comment.

“Oh yeah. I think that’s why mum finally sent you the letter – to shut him up,” said Ginny, taking another bite from her licorice wand.

Hermione bit the inside of her lips and tried to come to terms with the fact that Ron might actually like her now. When had that happened and why hadn’t it been before she’d developed the biggest crush on one of his older brothers instead?

“I could help get you guys together, if you want.”

“Excuse me?” Hermione looked up at Ginny is surprise.

“You and Ron, while you’re here I could be like your wingman or something,” Ginny explained further.

“No, I understood what you said. Absolutely not Ginevra. You will not be doing that.”

Ginny held her hands up in surrender. “Alright, suit yourself. No need to pop your top,” said Ginny, tossing the last of the licorice wand in her mouth and standing from her bed. “I’m going to see if there are any leftover biscuits from tea. I’m assuming you’ll want some too?”

Hermione smiled widely at the ginger haired girl, answering enthusiastically, “Yes please. You’re super cool.”

Ginny exited the room, holding up a middle finger at Hermione’s teasing.

Hermione chuckled lightly to herself, standing and opening her trunk. She began to unpack, realizing it was best to get a clear and organized environment if she were to be there for the remainder of the summer. She started with her clothes – taking each piece out carefully and placing them either in the free drawers of the room’s dresser or in the wardrobe next to Ginny’s few blouses and dresses. Her new clothes, while very pretty, were definitely out of her comfort zone. Her usual clothes were so large and relaxed that she practically swam in them and she liked it that way. They were comfortable. But her mother insisted that she was becoming an adult now and so she needed clothes that actually fit her. She was able to save a few of the pieces from her old wardrobe, like her favorite sweatpants, favorite striped sweater, and of course, Fred’s cardigan. But the rest had been sacrificed and replaced by the fitted, tailored pieces her mother picked out for her.

Picking up Fred’s cardigan from the bottom of her neatly packed clothes, she brought it to her face and marveled in the fact that it had somehow kept his scent. It shouldn’t still, after all those months, but it did. Feeling a chill run down her spine, Hermione glanced out the window and noticed the sky had turned a dark grey and the trees on the street leaned heavily in the wind. Great – a summer cold front followed by a storm. England sure did have fantastic weather, thought Hermione sarcastically. Without even thinking, she slipped her arms into the cardigan and wrapped it tightly around herself before returning to her unpacking. Ginny reappeared a short while later, bringing a plate piled high with an assortment of biscuits, and what looked to be two pumpkin pasties. Hermione grabbed a pasty, nibbling on it as she organized her books on the spare table in the corner. She finished her unpacking and was chatting idly with Ginny about Michael Corner when Ron knocked and entered.

“Well, it must be serious, Gin, if Dumbledore is getting the Order back together,” said Ron, shoving a biscuit into his mouth.

“Of course, it’s serious, Ron, You-Know-Who is back. Harry said so himself and he’d have no reason to lie about it,” said Ginny.

“I wish the rest of the ministry agreed with you on that. Have you seen the vile things they’ve been saying about Harry and Dumbledore in the Prophet, Hermione?” asked Ron.

Hermione sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, yes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say You-Know-Who already had his fingers buried deep in the ministry and the prophet, but I don’t know how true that is,” she said, crumbling a biscuit in her hand.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Ginny curiously.

“Well, it’s quite clever what they’re doing. Isn’t it? Instead of coming right out and saying that Harry and Dumbledore are lying, they’re giving the readers subtle reasons as to why they should believe them to not be credible. A small jab here, a snide remark there. Throw in a few jokes and next thing you know, everyone’s laughing at dramatic, fame-seeking Harry Potter and his crazy aging mental mentor Albus Dumbledore.” The cookie was officially powder in her hands as she finished her theory. It had been circulating in her brain since the first time she’d seen signs of turning in the Prophet. It was another reason she felt so on edge these days.

“Dad says it’s Fudge. Says he doesn’t want to accept that You-Know-Who is back,” sneered Ron. He rolled his eyes and rubbed at the freckles on the side of his nose. Hermione stared at the spattering of brown for a moment, trying to find the same thrill in them as she did Fred’s, but only came back with disappointment.

“Fudge is an idiot. Everyone knows that,” spat Ginny, rolling her eyes as well.

“Who’s an idiot?” a voice popped in, the door opening slightly. George’s head came into view, peaking into the room from the neck up.

“Surely not us,” said Fred, his head popping up now too, just below George’s.

“Don’t rule yourself out so quickly,” said Hermione, sharing an impish smile with Ginny.

“Can you believe the cheek on this one?” asked George, striding fully into the room, followed closely by Fred.

“We just came to say order members started arriving five minutes ago,” said Fred, eyes flick back and forth from the hallway through the door and Hermione’s torso. Glancing down, Hermione saw his cardigan and wondered if he might finally want it back now. Was it inappropriate to wear another girl’s boyfriend’s cardigan?

“What?!” Ginny leapt to her feet, nearly knocking the plate of biscuits onto the ground. Luckily, Ron caught them before they could slip off the bed.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” asked Ron, standing as well, and placing the plate of biscuits onto the table before darting out of the room behind Ginny.

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” said Hermione, looking between Fred and George.

“We’re not allowed to attend the meetings, you see—” explained Fred.

“—so, we have to take what we can get from watching members arrive and listening to their conversations as they walk into the kitchen,” continued George.

“We usually watch from the top of the stairs and sometimes mum forgets to cast a silencing spell and we can use the Extendable Ears to listen in on what they’re saying.” Fred pulled a bundle of fleshy string connected to two life-like ears from his pocket and waved it in her face.

Hermione scrunched her nose, remembering the disgusting items from earlier that afternoon. Exiting her bedroom, she took a seat on the ground near the railing at the end of the hall. The spot looked perfectly over the stairs and the entry hall that she had walked through earlier. Silently they watched as a string of wizards and witches entered Grimmauld Place – some Hermione recognized and some she did not.

“Blimey, it’s Dumbledore,” said Ron.

Hermione turned her attention away from a vibrantly pink-haired woman, who she assumed was Tonks, to the door where, sure enough, Dumbledore stood. “Why is that a surprise? Isn’t he the founder of the Order?” she asked.

“Well he doesn’t show up to a lot of these meetings. He’s a busy man, Dumbledore. Only pops in when he has something really important to share,” said George, looking down at the silver-haired headmaster in contemplation.

“Albus, we weren’t expected you—” Mrs. Weasley greeted the elder wizard in surprise “—will you be staying for dinner?”

“Not tonight, I’m afraid Molly. No, I heard you’ve invited Miss Granger here for the rest of the summer. Is that correct?”

Ron, Ginny, and the twins turned their heads to stare at Hermione curiously. Hermione shrugged, just as surprised as they were to hear their headmaster speak of her.

“Yes, yes. She arrived this afternoon. I hope that was alright. I know Ron really wanted a friend here with him and Harry might—”

“It’s okay Molly. You’ve done nothing wrong. I was actually just hoping to speak with her and Ronald before the meeting began. If that’s alright?”

Hermione and Ron looked at each other for a moment. She wasn’t sure if Ron had come to same conclusion as her, but Hermione was almost one hundred percent positive that if Professor Dumbledore wanted to speak to them both, then it was probably about Harry.

“Yes, of course,” Mrs. Weasley answered sweetly, before titled her head up and calling out to Ron and Hermione.

“What do they want with you two?” asked Fred, frowning slightly.

“Can’t be too certain, but it’s most likely about Harry,” said Ron with a shrug of his shoulders.

“It always is,” replied Fred and George in unison.

Ron and Hermione made their way down the stairs slowly, until finally they were standing in front of their headmaster. No matter how many times she spoke with the man, Hermione always found him incredibly intimidating. It never lessened.

“Ah! Miss Granger. Mr. Weasley,” Professor Dumbledore greeted them politely.

“Professor,” Hermione greeted him with a small nod.

“I was hoping I could have a quick word with the two of you. Perhaps, in the parlor?” Professor Dumbledore turned to Mrs. Weasley with questioning eyes.

“Yes, yes. It’s all cleared out now,” said Mrs. Weasley, ushering them to the parlor on the second floor before leaving them alone with their ever-intimidating headmaster.

They watched as the man circled the small space, inspecting the tapestries and portraits on the walls as his vibrantly purple robes dragged on the stained, emerald carpet. Hermione was beginning to feel as though she were responsible for starting the conversation, when Professor Dumbledore finally seated himself on a settee, so moth-eaten and threadbare, the springs were starting to peak through. He motioned for the two of them to take seats as well in the two parlor chairs opposite him.

“Now, I’m sure both of you are wondering why I wanted to meet with you.”

They nodded.

“Yes, well, as both of you are here now and will no doubt soon know most of the Order’s business, I thought it important to have a chat with you,” explained Professor Dumbledore with a small smile. He always smiled liked that, thought Hermione, like he was laughing at some small joke only he knew.

“We won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about. I mean, besides Harry, we’re the only people we talk to during the summer,” promised Ron.

“Ah – well that’s exactly who you cannot speak to about this,” said Professor Dumbledore, adjusting his half-moon spectacles.

“I’m not sure I quite understand, Professor,” said Hermione, pursing her lips.

“I’d be impressed if you did, Miss Granger. Even with your intellect, it is hard to understand something that has not been explained fully. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the ministry and the Prophet are not acknowledging Voldemort’s return—” Ron flinched at their headmaster’s use of You-Know-Who’s name, but Professor Dumbledore continued unfazed “—Fudge is growing increasingly paranoid as the days go by, I’m afraid. I would like to ask that neither of you tell Harry about where you are, and what you’re doing this summer until you can speak to him in person. It’s exceedingly important that you do not write to him about any of this. Harry has been through a lot in the last few months; best to give him less to think about for a while.”

“You’re not worried about the ministry intercepting our letters, are you Professor?” asked Hermione, realizing the severity of the situation if it were true.

“Ah, you see Miss Granger, that is exactly what I’m worried about. So, for now I ask that you keep your correspondence with Harry brief and to a minimum. Can you do that for me?”

“Absolutely Professor,” said Hermione.

“Yeah, of course Professor,” agreed Ron.

Professor Dumbledore released them after that, disappearing into the kitchen to the dining room where she was told the meetings were held. The rest of the evening was a blur, Hermione’s mind a clouded, foggy mess as she processed what Dumbledore had told them. For as little as he said, the implications behind his words spoke volumes. Fudge wasn’t just denying You-Know-Who’s return, he was growing paranoid. A paranoid, denial-ridden minister in a time such as this was a dangerous thing, thought Hermione.

“You look knackered ‘Mione. Perhaps you should go to bed?” a voice whispered lightly from beside her as she sat in the nearly empty dining room, staring into the roaring fire. Hermione looked up, vision slightly blurred and dotted with floating white orbs from staring too long into the flames. She blinked a few times, seeing Fred’s vision come into view. A small yawn escaped her lips and she nodded, looking around her to see what remained of the Order. Ginny and Ron laughed heartily as Tonks morphed her appearance into all kinds of silly things – she’d been doing it all night and yet the novelty of it had not worn off. Professor Lupin and Sirius were telling some story from their younger years to an entranced George, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were in the kitchen cleaning up.

“Come on, I’ll walk you,” said Fred, standing and offering his hand to Hermione. Hermione hesitated for a second, looking at the lines of Fred’s long fingers, before nodding and taking his hand. She supposed she was tired. More tired than she’d been in a while. Perhaps she might be able to get some actual sleep. The nightmares had been getting worse. Unsurprisingly, they’d picked back up the moment she’d started spending less time with the twins and more time worrying about Harry’s ability to survive during the tournament. Then, after the final task, after seeing Cedric’s lifeless body sprawled out on the grass as his father cried, they’d only gotten worse. The time spent at home only amplified it as well. It had been almost a month since she’d gotten a good night’s sleep. But, with the amount of time spent with the twins that day, she was almost positive that sleep would come easily and peacefully once again.

Hermione and Fred walked up the stairs to the third floor where their rooms resided. She was grateful that he did not apparate them straight up like last time and almost voiced as much. But instead, she opted to stay silent, allowing the soft, comfortable silence between them to last a little longer. This was nice. It almost felt like old times – when things weren’t so complicated and her and Fred were simply friends. When they reached her bedroom door, Hermione faltered, unsure as to why her feet kept her in place. She turned, looking up at Fred in the dimly, candle-lit hallway. The warm light of the candles turned his red hair to flames itself, igniting it in fiery reds and yellows. Harsh shadows streaked across his face, as the flicker of the flames passed his hazel eyes periodically. The goodnight she’d meant to give him, stuck in her throat and instead all she could do was stare up at him and marvel in how handsome he was.

“Thank you, Fred,” she finally managed to force the words from her drying throat.

Fred smiled down at her, reaching up and tucking one of her curls behind her ear. His touch lingered, the rough pads of his fingertips grazing the side of her cheek and sending shivers down Hermione’s body. She swallowed thickly.

“You know—” Fred began, pausing as if he was reconsidering his words “—you never told me how you can always tell me and George apart. Mum and dad almost never get it right and even our friends can’t do it. Merlin, even Angelina sometime—” He stopped, a pained expression on his face that gave Hermione’s heart a little jolt. How horrible it must be for everyone to always be confusing you for someone else. She wondered, for a moment, if he felt much like Ron did – forgotten, living in a shadow. Reaching up without thinking, she placed a hand to his cheek. Fred stiffened at her touch momentarily, but then relaxed into it, leaning his face ever so slightly into the palm of her hand.

“Well, it’s quite obvious really. Your eyes sit straight across, while George’s left one tilts down ever so slightly—” her fingers traced under his eyes lightly “—then of course there’s the line of your nose. Yours is straighter and you have a freckle, here, on the tip that George does not. And one here as well, above your top lip that George doesn’t have either.” Her fingers brushed across each of the freckles, her breath hitching when she got close to his mouth. Fred caught her wrist in his hand, holding it as he stared down at her with an inscrutable expression. Memories of his kiss all those months ago, flashed into the forefront of her mind and how she’d used that kiss to measure every kiss with Viktor. Nothing compared. Often times she’d lie awake at night and wonder if she’d be comparing every kiss for the rest of her life to the one she shared with Fred.

“You noticed all of that?”

“Of course,” breathed Hermione, pulse quickening.

“Why?”

This was all too much. She was getting too worked up over something she couldn’t have. She needed to get ahold of herself. Pulling from Fred’s grasp, she cleared her throat and looked down at Fred’s cardigan she still wore.

“I suppose, I really should give this back to you,” she said, hoping to break the spell between them.

And it did. Fred took a step back, creating space and looking down at the cardigan as well. He shook his head with a small smile before answering, “You’ve had it long enough now. I’d say it’s as good as yours.”

“Are you sure?” asked Hermione.

“Of course. I have loads. Looks better on your anyways—” Fred smirked, taking another step back “—Goodnight Hermione.”

“Goodnight,” Hermione mumbled, watching as Fred disappeared down the hallways and into his own room.

Hermione slipped into her bedroom and quickly changed into her pajamas, before sliding into the soft sheets of her bed. While they held a slightly musty smell from disuse, she could tell they were expensive. Sleep took her quickly. Visions of snow, lights, smart dress robes, and elegant dresses floating through her head as she dreamed. Good dreams.

But it was only a mere few hours later, in the early moments of the morning, before the sun even rose, that she sat up straight – heart beating wildly and brow sweat-slicked. With labored movements, she quietly slid out of bed, careful not to wake Ginny. She grabbed Fred’s cardigan and the pile of notes he’d made her before tiptoeing out of the room in search for a place to work. Surely in a house this size, they were bound to have a library.

Chapter 15>>>

Taglist:

@theworldisugly-22

@aoonai

@sjh-07-10

@is-it-madness

@i-d-e-g-a-f

#fremione #fred weasley #fred x hermione #hermione granger #fanfic #fanfiction #slow burn #romance #mutual pining

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pogueslandia · 3 years

Note

hi there!! i was wondering if i could request a letter from george pls! id like a romantic one, with overall cheesy and cute stuff, like missing each other, etc.

my name is paola (nickname lola), im a ravenclaw, have brown wavy/curly hair and dark green eyes, and my pronouns are she/her. i like to draw, sing and dance, and to joke around. could you please add something related to the quidditch world cup and him inviting me to go with him or something like that pls? tysm!!♡♡

ive sent this before as an anon accidentally, so im writing it again without anon and w more details :^)

george -- tap.

Hey Lola,

How’s your summer been so far? I hope it’s going well. Freddie and I’ve been making more products for our shop. The Ton Tongue Toffees have been a success! We’ve managed to make three batches, can you believe that? We’re planning to give a few to Harry’s wanker of a cousin, he’s been a right git, said, Harry. Think he deserves a free sample, don’t you think? We’ll be picking him up tomorrow afternoon for the Quidditch World Cup.

Oh, which reminds me! Mum said he didn’t want to come with us and told me to give the extra ticket to you instead. Do you fancy coming along with me? Charlie said that there are usually after-parties to celebrate the team’s win, and I know how much you love to dance, so I plan to bring you there and maybe do some muggle karaoke? I’m sure there are some wizarding songs there, too. I wish you could come, I’ve missed you too bloody much and I don’t think I could handle another week without you. Ask your parents if you could spend the rest of the summer with me. You’re in good hands, ‘course. Doubt mum would let you leave without looking like you’ve eaten food worth a whole year. If you would love to come along, just send a letter back. Using your own owl preferably, you know how Errol is.

With all love,

George

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funkymbtifiction · 4 years

Note

Could you a comparison of characters with 7w8 and 7w6? Possibly ETP

Let’s see if I can keep them straight this time. ;)

The Weasley twins are both 7s and... well, what do you get? Constant wit, banter, creative explosions of ideas, short attention span, bucking of authority, mean-spirited pranks, trying to talk their way out of / rationalize away their bad behavior, turning everything into a positive that was a negative (their mother yells at them, they thank her for the new ideas she just gave them). But they are very different in their wings -- Fred is a 7w8 and George is a 7w6.

Fred has a much stronger desire to ‘get even’ than George -- don’t get me wrong, George is still all about giving Malfoy a pounding if he needs one, but Fred’s 8 wing is not nearly as warm or as affectionate as George’s 6 wing. It’s Fred who burns through Ron’s tongue as a child with candy, who drops a tongue ton toffee for Dudley to eat, and who wants to blackmail Ludo Bagman in order to get the gold they need for their shoppe. This speaks to the 8′s far earthier sense of humor and desire to ‘get even’ -- Dudley harasses Harry and makes his life miserable, therefore he deserves punishment. 7w8s are far more aggressive and angrier, also, than 7w6s -- if you want another example, look no further than George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life. Rather than admit to his sensitive feelings for Mary, he blows up and has a tantrum in her living room, before kissing her passionately. He plays a mean-spirited prank on her, by keeping her robe out of her hands while she hides in a bush, after he steps on the end of it and pulls it off her. (He’s just teasing, but she’s not enjoying it.) He screams at Mr. Potter, rails against him in public, and antagonizes him -- because his 8 sees him as a bully who needs knocked down a peg, and George Bailey is the only man in town ‘not afraid of him.’ Even as a child, he storms in there to yell at him and tell him to leave his pop alone.

In a nutshell, 7w8s are angrier, more aggressive, and more assertive than 7w6s whose 6 just wants peace, inclusion, and not to burn any of their bridges. George Weasley is more this way than Fred. He is kinder to Hermione, Harry, and Ron. His pranks against Percy are intended to hurt his pride, not anything else. He prioritizes family connections and beats up Malfoy after Malfoy makes nasty comments about his family members. (He’s also willing to protect his team-mates out of a sense of loyalty). His pranks aren’t as ‘domineering.’ If you want another example, Styles in Teen Wolf is one of my favorite 7s. He’s hilarious, and wonderful, but you can certainly see his 6 wing kick in whenever he thinks he might be in danger -- because then it’s all about staying safe, clinging to his friends (or protecting them), etc. He tells off people -- and then backs down when they get aggressive or mouthy with him. He sometimes just ‘yells louder,’ but the truth is, he’s pants-wetting terrified of Derek Hale.

To determine this wing, look at how much fear vs. anger is involved. The 7w6 is a double head type combination, which means there’s double fears going on (7 - avoidance, and 6 - push against authority but seek security); the 7w8 has a gut influence, so they have quicker access to anger and won’t back down.

- ENFP Mod

#question #enneagram #enneagram 7 #7w6 #7w8 #7w6 x 7w8 #type contrast

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thewackywriter · 6 years

Text

Free at Last (Part 3)

Fred Weasley x Y/N Black

Summary - Y/N Black has been living with her Death Eater mother and step father ever since her father went to jail when she was young. What happens when it’s finally time for her to join the family and receive the Dark Mark?

A/N: Wow thank you all so much for reading, the support has been overwhelming! I’m so happy you guys are liking it, the last part will be out sometime tonight! Also, for some reason I was crazy inspired last night and wrote a few one shots as well so those will be out sometime in the next few days! Requests are open if anyone has any ideas, and constructive criticism/comments are appreciated! Thanks!!

Disclaimer: Some of the text here is straight from the book so all that belongs to JK Rowling! The rest belongs to me!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

MASTERPOST

ASK/REQUEST

Three weeks seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, and Y/N was soon back on the Weasley’s doorstep, knocking on their door. The circumstances were much better this time around, as the Quidditch World Cup was just one day away. Y/N, being a chaser for the Gryffindor team, was very excited and hoped for the Irish to win. When Mrs. Weasley opened the door, it seemed very hard for her to hide her disappointment at the sight that greeted her. “Oh hi there Y/N, three weeks sure did pass by fast. Come in.”

“Thank you Mrs. Weasley.” Y/N entered the house and was greeted by the sight of her boyfriend rushing down the stairs and over to her, immediately wrapping his arms around her. “Wow, three weeks has been way too long. Have you gotten taller?”

“Thank God you’re here, all I’ve been hearing about the past three weeks is ‘Y/N loves this’ and ‘Y/N doesn’t like that’. Now you can deal with him.” George said as he came down the stairs and gave her a hug. “How was your cousin’s house?”

“It was a lot of fun, I got to meet my cousin Nymphadora, but she just goes by Tonks. I definitely missed you guys though. I can’t wait to work on the inventions more.” Y/N told them, and was surprised when both of their moods seemed to suddenly drop. “Woah, what’s wrong?”

“Mom threw away all of our order forms and burned some of our inventions. She got really mad and said that you probably had something to do with our ‘bad decision making’. Of course, she also brought up the fact that if we weren’t wasting our time making silly inventions, maybe we would have gotten more OWLs. She almost made us uninvite you to the World Cup, but Dad managed to convince her not to.” Fred explained, causing Y/N’s face to flair up in embarrassment and anger. She wasn’t responsible for the twins and their decisions, in fact she even tried to get them to study more. While she might not have been completely happy when they only received three OWLs each compared to her eight, she understood that pranking was their passion and supported them fully.

Y/N and the twins just hung around for the rest of the day, and went to bed pretty early because they would have to get up at the break of dawn for the World Cup.

They were having a good time, about to leave the Burrow when things took a turn for the worst. Molly was already upset at the twins and Y/N for pranking Harry’s cousin when they went to pick him up the previous day. While there was still tension, everyone seemed to be ignoring it in favor of getting excited for the World Cup. Everyone was ready to leave when suddenly Mrs. Weasley froze.

"George!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, and they all jumped. "What is that in your pocket?" When George tried to lie, Mrs. Weasley was saw right through it.

"Don't you lie to me!" Mrs. Weasley then used the Summoning Charm, which caused a few pieces of candy to fly out of George’s pocket. "We told you to destroy them!" said Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, all three of you!"

She continued to use the Summoning Charm, causing candies to fly out of all different hiding spots on the twins and Y/N.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother as she threw the toffees away.

"Oh a fine way to spend six months!” she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more OWLs! I should have expected with Y/N being here that you two would get into more trouble, she isn’t good for you!”

This only caused the twins to get even angrier, especially Fred. “She is more than good for us! She’s the reason that we got three OWLs at all instead of none! She even got eight OWLs herself! You’re just judging her by her last name, which she has no control over! So much for always telling us to not judge a book by it’s cover!”

“Calm down love, it’s fine. Let’s just go.” Y/N calmly put her hand on his shoulder before leaving the house. What was supposed to be a great day was already taking a downwards spiral, and she didn’t want it to get any worse. A moment later, everyone else piled out of the house and they began their trek towards the World Cup.

Part 4

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chrmiing-arc · 5 years

Note

“Whoever slipped that Ton-Tongue Toffee into my bag of regular toffee is dead.”

❛ what you going to do - hunt down everyone in the school and interrogate them? ❜ teased chad as the duo re-entered the common room after a quick trip to the infirmary. the whole ordeal to the chaser had been hilarious, of course they would plot a revenge plan but that didn’t take away from the fact that a few hours ago tears still streamed down his pale complexion as he was chased out the infirmary. madam pomfrey was having none of his laughter in there. sinking into a leather seat by the fire his thoughts flickered to who would dare test uma, someone who even he wouldn’t want to cross. with a firm frown he waved a finger at his now “cured” team mate, ❛ my bet’s on that ravenclaw in potions, you know the one that seemingly has it in for you. ❜

going back to hogwarts!! ⫽ @tentacleheir

#tentacleheir #♚・ ❛ i got 99 problems and 0 notifications aint one ❜ ⟶「 answered 」・✦#♚・ ❛ my generations had enough and you should be afraid ❜ ⟶「 uma ft. tentacleheir 」・✦#♚・ ❛ nitwit blubber oddment tweak ❜ ⟶「 hogwarts 」・✦

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marauders70s · 7 years

Text

so i was just sitting in the bathroom thinking about family dinners at the weasleys and realized that how does (does?) harry transition from mrs. weasley to molly? like “pass the potatoes, molly” wtffffffff that’s so weird. so of course being me and sniggering about it in my head i decided to write a ficlet

“Molly” c. December 2003

“I do wish you’d bring her over for Sunday dinners, Percy,” Mrs. Weasley was complaining across the table at her third son. “You’re the only one in the family whose beau we don’t know.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to work,” replied Percy, irritably sawing his meat too forcefully for the china plate. It chipped, and he had to repair it as it had been dozens of times before with the tap of his wand.

“What do you mean, Perce?” asked George down the table, eyes wide. “Incest isn’t for everyone?”

Angelina smacked him hard on the arm, while Hermione snorted heavily into her cup.

“I was a stranger among you once,” said Fleur, who was delicately clearing by hand and making Mrs. Weasley scowl furiously at daring to even walk while carrying her second grandchild in her large, protruding stomach. Fleur was always so put together, that to Harry she looked as if she had swallowed a quaffle and wrapped it in silk maternity clothes. When he mentioned this to Ron, he had only opened his mouth before Ginny elbowed it shut with a roll of her eyes.

“We had met you at Harry’s Triwizard Cup,” said Bill at once, who was carefully dabbing at Victoire’s mouth while she wielded a wriggling plastic spoon of mashed potatoes. “You were in all the papers. We knew you.”

“Yes, and Audrey is an unknown!” agreed Mrs. Weasley, seeming to think Bill was squarely on her side, and Percy rolled his eyes at him irritably. Instead, he gestured at his other older brother.

“Pick on Charlie. Charlie’s not dating anyone.”

“And I don’t intend to,” said Charlie into his spelled-icy stein of beer. He was nursing several bad burns on his forearms. “With a job like mine, I’d never have time for anyone but the dragons.”

“And Charlie loves his dragons,” Ginny put in from Harry’s side defensively.

“Yes, Percy, don’t be mean to Charlie,” said George, all wide eyed innocence that made Mrs. Weasley fire up at once and grow bigger in her seat, afraid they really were picking on Charlie.

“I’ll bring Audrey to dinner,” mumbled Percy at once, shoving his glasses up his face.

“Yeah, how about next Sunday, for the first Sunday of Advent?” prodded Hermione, smiling angelically at Percy’s glower, though usually they got on quite well.

“Oh Percy, that would be lovely. We’ll start having little Christmas teas before dinner this month,” agreed Mrs. Weasley at once. There was a rush from the fireplace and Mr. Weasley stepped out to a chorus of groans from his family. Charlie, George, and Ginny all made farting noises with their mouths, flapping their elbows as Mr. Weasley held up two hands apologetically.

“I know, I know, I’m late,” he consoled. “Kingsley had me-”

“‘Kingsley had me,’” parroted George as Ginny snickered. “Oh Dad’s getting so chummy with the Minister he’ll soon turn into Percy!”

The table laughed uproariously, Percy going a brighter blood red as he shoveled his fork around his plate, smiling horribly.

“Any food left?” asked Mr. Weasley a little hopelessly as he tipped bowls scraped clean with spoons towards him.

“On the stove,” said Mrs. Weasley briskly.

“I’ll get it!” Harry jumped up. “And there’s a chair next to Ginny.”

Ginny pulled out the chair for her father, smiling up at him while Fleur levered herself down next to Victoire, petting her white blonde hair with love, encouraging her to eat the cooked carrots Bill was carefully chopping into bite sized pieces.

Harry put the full plate Mrs. Weasley had put aside for her husband in front of Mr. Weasley.

“Thank you Harry,” he said tiredly, picking up fork and knife.

“And?” asked Mrs. Weasley pointedly.

“And you, dear,” added Mr. Weasley.

“Harry, do you have any more potatoes?” asked Mrs. Weasley, craning her neck down the table.

Harry tilted several bowls until he found some. “Here, Mrs. Weasley,” and he set the potatoes floating down towards her open hands.

“Thank you dear,” she said, spooning some onto her plate, and then on Fleur’s empty one for good measure as well, scowling furiously until Fleur took a perfunctory bite and passed them instead to Bill.

“And Harry,” the table went very quiet, Angelina and George freezing where they had been balancing four spoons on the end of their noses, trying to fight each other with their faces. Ron was picking apart a roll and throwing it at them, trying to dislodge the charmed spoons.

“I’d really prefer if you and Hermione would follow Angie’s lead and call me Molly.”

Harry felt himself going blood red, and Ginny began silently snickering in her seat while the spoons off George’s nose clattered to his floor without his charmed concentration.

“Oh...er...” stammered Harry, but Hermione beat him to it, her own brown eyes glinting with humor.

“Sure, Molly, I’d like that.”

Ron choked on his own beer, need George to whack him hard between the shoulderblades while Harry glared at Hermione across the table, his own tongue thick and awkward.

“Oh...er...” Harry repeated again, and Mrs. Weasley looked up, as if pretending she hadn’t seen any of the previous dramatics.

“What?” she asked, hurt brown eyes huge. “Don’t you feel a part of this family?”

Harry felt the tang of acid on his tongue. “Er...”

“You and Ginny are practically married, like Ron and Hermione. And now we have grandchildren coming in. And Angie and George are-”

“Okay!” yelled George hastily. “No big ideas, Mum!”

“Mum!” Ron butted in loudly. “Just leave Harry alone! If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to!”

“He doesn’t want to?” Mrs. Weasley said, hurt.

“I want to!” said Harry, just as loudly.

“What are you shouting for?” Bill shouted, as Victoire began to cry, her three year old lungs lusty and loud.

“You are all upsett-eeng my leetle girl!” Fleur cried, swinging Victoire into her arms.

“Molly,” said Arthur helplessly. “Harry doesn’t have to.”

“It’s not that,” stammered Harry.

“Bill, I am going upstairs to put Victoire to bed.”

“I can do it!” Bill jumped up.

“We shall both go,” said Fleur decisively.

“Fancy a game of quaffle catch, George, Angie?” Charlie said, hastily slamming his mug down on the table. “It’ll be like old times on the team.”

“Oi! I’ll come!” Ron hurried to butt in. Harry dug his nails into Ginny’s wrist as she tried to jump up after them.

“Hermione, have you seen-” Percy began, but he needn’t have bothered; Hermione was already making her hasty excuses to Mr. Weasley and practically towing Percy forward with a loud:

“Oh yes! I’ll help you pick a Christmas gift for Audrey!”

Now it was only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley at the end of the table in her matriarch’s throne, and Mr. Weasley in a hastily drawn up chair next to Ginny. Mr. Weasley was steadily and studiously salting his peas.

“Mrs. W-” Harry began, but Mrs. Weasley stopped him with a look.

“Now Harry,” she began fiercely. “How long have you been a part of this family?”

Harry glanced helplessly at Ginny, but Mrs. Weasley interrupted him again.

“No! Not just with Ginny! But since Ron and those boys-” she never quite managed Fred’s name - “brought you home in Arthur’s stupid flying car! I went to bed with six sons, and woke with seven!”

Harry was feeling very queer, like perhaps he had eaten one too many of those hot buttered rolls, and they were working in a solid lump down his intestines, doubling back rather a lot.

“And it didn’t matter that you didn’t quite look like us,” Mrs. Weasley continued ruthlessly. “It only meant one more color at Christmas, and I’d been wanting to add green for ages.”

Harry realized she was eyeing his very old and shabby too-small sweater that had been let out at the seams with an engorgement charm. It was green, and had a gold dragon on the front.

“And of course when you...went away...” A horrible, awkward silence, and Ginny flipped her hand under the table to grip Harry’s, Harry dropping his gaze in embarrassment and shame at the reference to horcrux hunting.

“I told Molly we should have you call us Aunt and Uncle,” put in Mr. Weasley unexpectedly, scraping his plate for the last of his peas. “Probably around your third year before Sirius and Remus.”

Harry flinched at the names, and Mr. Weasley kindly pretended not to notice.

“But she said it might be too horrible after your real aunt and uncle.”

Harry had to smile at that, and Mr. Weasley beamed appreciatively. “Never quite did get over meeting them in their parlor,” Mr. Weasley shook his head pensively, and this time Harry laughed, recalling the disastrous explosion and Fred’s ton tongue toffee.

“So,” said Mrs. Weasley decisively. “If you won’t call us Aunt and Uncle, and you and Ginny keep on-”

“Mum!” interrupted Ginny hotly.

“Then I think it’s only fair you call us by our names, properly,” said Mrs. Weasley, not heeding her daughter’s flashing brown eyes, so similar to her own.

“Er...alright,” said Harry awkwardly.

“It shouldn’t be hard,” said Mr. Weasley affably. “In the Order, you heard everyone call us Molly and Arthur.” And Harry was hit with a gut wrenching twist at the reminder of Lupin’s words about her children:

“For heaven’s sake Molly, would we let them starve?”

Harry managed to nod, and let go of Ginny’s hand. He stood, grabbing a plate.

“Oh Harry, just leave them,” waved Mrs. Weasley, but Harry neatly spelled them to stack in the sink, still not proficient enough at kitchen spells to get them to wash themselves.

“Dinner was delicious,” Harry heard himself saying, as if from far away. “Thank you, Molly.”

#molly weasley #the weasleys #hp

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the-spoony-bard · 7 years

Text

A Matter of Leverage - 9

Fandom: Fire Emblem Awakening

Style: Leverage!AU; modern setting; adventure/drama

Word count: 3,964

Read on Ao3

“Woah, woah, woah!” Nowi says vigorously, shaking both her head and arms. “That’s not going to happen. I can’t actually change the numbers on the chips themselves.”

“Isn’t that what you did before?” Robin asks, somewhat blearily, the aspirin yet to kick in. There was no note as to who left it along with a glass of water on her nightstand that morning, but she ranks Lon’qu as the most likely suspect. He and Olivia are sitting with Robin and Nowi around a table outside a bed and breakfast, though Lon’qu has his chair pulled out a little farther than necessary to keep some distance between him and the three women.

“Not exactly,” Nowi continues, oblivious to the effect the pitch of her voice has on Robin’s headache. “I faked the information on the database. If Vasto scans the chip and notices it’s not the same one from before, the whole plan goes up in smoke!”

“That just might happen either way,” Gaius grimaces as he appears suddenly behind Robin, plopping himself unceremoniously into a chair he pulls up from the next table over. “Swift Wing’s been driven off to a stud farm now that the current races are done. Who knows when he’ll be sent back.”

“Not good,” Robin frowns, pushing her unfinished plate of waffles over to Gaius before he can even ask for them. “This plan can’t work without Swift Wing… Vasto’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I don’t think even Olivia can convince him to buy an empty horse trailer for twelve million dollars. Hmm…”

“D-do we need a-another change of plans?” Olivia asks shakily.

“No. We’ll just have to stall him for now.”

“This is getting too risky,” Lon’qu says from across the table.

“I know,” Robin replies apologetically. “But I’m going to have to ask you to trust me again. If things get too hot, I’ll pull the plug and get us out of here. Until then, this thing isn’t over.”

Lon’qu looks at Robin for a moment in silence before he grunts and looks down at his coffee instead.

“First, we need to get Swift Wing. Cordelia can probably provide us with a trailer. I’m entrusting that to you three. Olivia and I will keep them busy while you get Swift Wing and bring him back.”

Gaius looks up with worry as everyone stands up. He shovels the last of the waffles into his mouth and the extra containers of fake maple syrup into his pockets before following after the rest of the team.

○

“You didn’t have to come with us, you know,” Gaius reminds Cordelia, who sits stubbornly in the driver’s seat, her mouth set in a hard line.

“It’s my trailer, and none of you are probably used to driving while dragging one behind you,” Cordelia replies, her voice somewhat tense. “Besides, I want to know exactly what’s going on.”

“Does what we do bother you?” Gaius asks innocently.

“I’m…” Cordelia sighs heavily, distracting herself with turning on the truck’s blinker for the turn much earlier than actually needed. “I feel like I should.”

“Why should you?” Nowi looks up from her phone, absentmindedly blowing at a lock of hair that escaped her ponytail and now dangles in front of her eyes. “We’re doing this to help you guys!”

“I know,” Cordelia sighs again. “This is just so odd. I mean, people that break the law are supposed to be the bad guys. Yet here you are, helping people in need.”

“Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys,” Gaius shrugs as Cordelia takes a turn down a long dirt drive. Nowi plasters her nose against the glass to watch the horses out in the pasture. “We don’t get held back by rules and loopholes.”

“I wouldn’t have believed you before, but maybe there’s some truth in that,” Cordelia admits, begrudging though she is.

“Ooh, that one’s so pretty!” Nowi pokes Gaius’s arm repeatedly while pointing with her free hand. “Do you think they’d be okay with me riding that one? I’ve got the hat for it and everything!”

“You like horses?” Cordelia asks politely. “If this morally ambiguous plan of Robin’s works and we get Luna back, you’re more than welcome to ride him.”

“Oh,” Nowi’s face clouds over for an instant before it snaps back to its usual optimism. “Oh, I don’t know the first thing about riding a horse. I like thinking about it though! It could be tons of fun to learn!”

“You haven’t ridden before?”

“I grew up in the middle of the city,” Nowi replies. “And there’s not much room in the foster care system’s budget for trips to horse farms.”

Nowi immediately buries her nose in her phone before anyone can say anything else. Only a few seconds longer, and Cordelia stops the truck. Lon’qu opens the passenger door to jump out before she can even finish putting it in park.

“Don’t mind him,” Gaius speaks up in a clear attempt to push away the awkward atmosphere beginning to reign amongst them. “He gets antsy around ladies.”

Cordelia gives him a forced smile, but immediately gets to business, leading them up to one of the stables.

“He should be in here, but…” she trails off, eyeing the lock.

“This shouldn’t be a problem,” Gaius steps forward, making a show of pushing up his sleeves.

“No,” Lon’qu cuts in, holding up his arm to stop Gaius from going any farther. “This needs to be done without anyone noticing. You messing with this lock doesn’t help with that. We’re too out in the open where anyone could see.” He looks around, eyes narrowing as he picks out any possible sources of complications.

“Okay,” Gaius shakes it off, rolling his shoulders. “My other option is probably an air vent of some sort around the back. Be back in a sec.”

He jogs off around the building. Cordelia leans over to the side to watch him, her brows furrowed as he disappears from sight.

“Don’t worry!” Nowi lightly punches Cordelia’s arm. Cordelia flinches at the sudden contact, but Nowi seems not to mind or notice. “Gaius knows what he’s doing!”

“I’m in,�� Gaius reports from over the coms. “And it’s tighter than I’d like, I’ll have you know. This would have been much easier if you’d just let me go in through the front door.”

“It’d be easier if you didn’t let yourself go with all those sweets,” Lon’qu replies.

“That’s a low blow,” Gaius retorts just before he stops above the right stall, then opens the grate to drop through.

The horse snorts and jerks his head, startled by a man dropping from the ceiling.

“Hey,” Gaius says quietly, holding his hands out at his sides. “You’re fine, buddy.”

“Gaius, are you in?” Nowi asks.

“Yeah, just give me a minute. I don’t want to spook this guy.”

“We don’t have time for you to play horse whisperer,” Lon’qu cuts in.

“Clearly you two have never dealt with horses before,” Gaius whispers furiously. He gently reaches out to scratch Swift Wing’s nose before slowly slipping the lead around his neck.

The door to the stable opens a couple minutes later, Gaius leading the horse behind him. He hands the lead to Cordelia, who walks Swift Wing into the trailer. She claps her hands together once the doors are shut, giving Gaius an impressed look.

“Have you worked with horses before?”

“I had a friend. She was something of an equestrian back then.”

“A friend?” Nowi leans forward, batting her eyelashes.

“And we’ll leave it at that,” Gaius adds for good measure, climbing back into the truck for the long ride back.

“Oh, I can’t just leave something like that!” Nowi protests, scooting up next to him in the back seats.

“Why don’t you play with your phone instead?” Gaius waves her off.

“Janaff can wait,” Nowi waves back.

“Okay, kid. I have in my hand three toffees. If you promise to shut up about this, I will let you have the toffees.”

“Ooh! Ooh!” Nowi grabs for them at once, but Gaius holds them out of her reach. The truck rumbles back down the drive as Cordelia starts their ride back.

“Ah, you haven’t promised yet!” Gaius tuts, holding Nowi back with his free hand.

“Okay, okay! I promise not to ask about your mystery friend!”

“Why should I trust you though?” Gaius says thoughtfully. “We are thieves after all.”

“Just give her the toffees so we can shut her up,” Lon’qu snaps, already tired of the ride over and Nowi’s attempts at serenading them with Journey’s entire discography.

“Please,” Cordelia adds.

“You’re all meanies.” Nowi sticks out her tongue.

“Shake on it, kid.”

Gaius and Nowi exchange a business-like shake, then Gaius holds out the toffees. Nowi pops them all in her mouth at once as Cordelia turns back onto the highway.

○

“I have to say, Mr. Vasto, that meeting with you has been one of the best things to happen to me in a while,” Olivia says, smooth as silk. “I’ve made my friends very happy with this sale.”

“You’ve certainly made me happy,” Vasto replies.

Robin stands alone in one of the unused offices off to the side, listening to the conversation. Olivia’s heavy handed flirting has succeeded in capturing Vasto’s attention, turning it away from more important matters, such as where she leads him. He only just notices as Robin thinks it.

“Hey, are you sure this is the right way?”

“Please, Mr. Vasto,” Olivia laughs, casting a light and fleeting touch on his arm. “I know these stables like the back of my hand. They’re a little large, so I was just taking a shortcut.”

“We’re pulling in now,” Lon’qu alerts them.

“Good. Lon’qu, get Swift Wing over to Vasto and Olivia. Gaius and Nowi, you know what to do.”

“Aye aye, Boss Lady!” Nowi salutes. Cordelia, not privy to the conversation going on in their ears, watches their reactions with mild interest.

“Let’s not keep Abel waiting,” Olivia smiles after a couple more minutes have passed, leading Vasto out one of the side doors where Lon’qu is walking the horse out of the trailer.

“There he is,” Vasto announces, a dark glint in his eye. “The horse of the hour!” He pulls the scanner out from his jacket pocket and hands it over to Lon’qu. “Would you mind doing the honors? I’d like to keep my bases covered.”

“Sure,” Lon’qu mutters. He holds the scanner up to the horse’s neck.

“6-2-5-0-1-5,” the scanner intones in its dry, computerized voice.

“It checks out.”

“Speaking of checks,” Olivia steps in. “There’s the small matter of that twelve million dollars.”

Vasto taps at his phone a few times before holding it up to show Olivia the funds just transferred to her bank account. Olivia’s own phone tweets in notification of the transferal.

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Vasto,” Olivia grins coquettishly, shaking his hand.

“The pleasure has been all mine,” Vasto replies before turning to Lon’qu with a far sterner expression. “Let’s get my horse into its stable then.”

Lon’qu nods, walking the horse past them back inside.

“It sounds like that’s my cue to leave,” Olivia remarks. “I do hope your investor friends are pleased.”

“They will be,” Vasto chuckles nastily. “Afterwards, do you think…?”

Olivia is nowhere to be seen when he turns back around. Vasto looks around curiously for a few moments before he shrugs it off to catch up with Lon’qu. Vasto looks over him smugly as Lon’qu walks the horse into the stall then closes the door shut, leaving the horse out of sight. Vasto claps his hands together as he immediately sets out to meet the group that awaits him at the entrance.

The group of sharply dressed men all look up as Vasto appears, holding the door open for them. Jakob offers Vasto an appraising look as he passes him to get inside, not relenting it even when Vasto closes the door then speed walks to be at the head of the column, guiding the seven men through the large maze of a stable. Beside Vasto’s five fellow investors, Jakob has Swift Wing’s trainer at his side. In his excitement, Vasto hardly notices.

“We have just secured ourselves a champion,” Vasto brags, pausing for dramatic effect once they reach the stall. “I’d like you all to meet Sol Achaeus.”

“Gentlemen, I hate to be the one to rain on your parade, but that is not Sol Achaeus,” Jakob cuts in, pointing to the door and what lies behind it. “And certainly not the lost heir of Secretariat.”

“What are you talking about?” Vasto snorts.

“That is Swift Wing,” Jakob clarifies.

Vasto rolls his eyes, opening the door and gesturing dramatically inside where a horse stands there calmly. Swift Wing’s trainer lets out a barking laugh.

“That ain’t Swift Wing.”

“Of course it’s not,” Vasto smiles wryly, pressing the new insurance information to Jakob’s chest. “That’s because this is Sol Achaeus.”

Jakob gives Vasto a wry smile of his own as he takes the folded paper, using his free hand to retrieve his scanner from his pocket with pointed care and holding it up to the horse’s neck.

“4-4-1-9-1-2,” the scanner reports.

“There must be something wrong with your scanner,” Vasto shoves Jakob’s hand unceremoniously to the side and holds up his own. The same numbers stare back up at him as his own scanner repeats the dreaded digits. “What?! I just put this horse in here, this—”

“What’s going on, Vasto?” one of the investors demands.

“How should I know?” Vasto retorts. “I don’t know how this horse got in here!”

“You’re clear,” Olivia whispered as she watched Vasto leave to fetch his associates.

Gaius and Nowi jogged past her, Nowi using her large hat to hold a stack of signs.

“I put him two stalls over,” Robin reminded them.

“Time to pull a switch-a-roo!” Nowi cheered, taking down the stall number and name as Gaius did the same to the other. Nowi replaced ‘Sol Achaeus’ with ‘Speedy Janaff,’ high fiving Gaius as they traded places, putting up the new numbers and names.

“This is Luna,” Jakob says, the faintest hint of a laugh in his voice.

“That…” Vasto trails off as he tries to wrap his head around his current state of affairs. “This can’t be Luna. I lost Luna in a poker game.”

“Well,” Jakob chuckles humorously, glancing over Vasto’s new insurance paperwork. “It looks like you just bought him back. And you want him insured for twelve million dollars.” Jakob continues mercilessly as Vasto pales. “In the previous claim, you had this very same horse insured for three hundred thousand dollars. That, as I’m sure you know, is insurance fraud.” Jakob pauses to let this sink in. Judging by the deathly pallor of Vasto’s cheeks and the gritting of his teeth, it does just that. “I’m going to have to deny your claim on the fire. And if it’s not too forward to say so, I do believe you owe these gentlemen an explanation.”

Jakob smiles pleasantly as he passes the paperwork back into Vasto’s numb hands, then turns on his heel and leaves him with one confused horse trainer and five enraged investors.

“I don’t care about explanations,” one of the investors glares. “What you owe us is ten million dollars.”

“Hold on a second there!” Vasto shouts. “This—we’ll—we’ll get the money back!”

“Don’t start throwing ‘we’s at us. You’re on the hook for fraud. You can pay the debt.”

“But… that’s…” Vasto licks his lips, eyes darting around helplessly as he searches for some way out of this. “Ten million is all I have left.”

“We’ll settle for that.”

Vasto runs his hand through his hair and kicks at the ground as the investors and horse trainer troop back out, leaving him alone. Luna stomps his foot impatiently, as if he’s telling Vasto that it’s time to leave. Cursing, he does so.

○

Sumia’s mouth hangs open as Robin drops a stack of bills at least a couple inches thick onto her desk. Cordelia watches over the proceedings just behind Sumia’s shoulder, trying to fight off a smile but failing to do so.

“This should be enough cash to have your stable repaired,” Robin explains as Sumia’s mouth opens and closes in an attempt to speak. “Twelve million more will be in your bank account in the hour. Oh, and most importantly…” Robin pauses as she checks a few pockets before coming up with the right one. She sets the napkin with Vasto’s signature down beside the cash. “Your first horse. Luna will be in good hands now.”

“H-how did you…?” Sumia manages at last, picking the napkin up like one would hold something fragile and precious. “Is this legal?”

Robin looks up at Cordelia with a smile. She smiles back.

“Of course. Because of the fraud, the last sale didn’t go through. Ownership of Luna then reverted back to the previous owner, which is now me. And now I’m giving him to you.”

“I…” Sumia sniffs loudly, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “Oh, what can I say? All of the ‘thank you’s in the world could never be enough for this!”

“Just take care of Luna,” Robin says kindly, rising from her seat. “That’s all the thanks we need.”

Sumia scurries around the desk, throwing her arms around Robin and squeezing with more strength than Robin originally suspected she had. Robin initially tenses, but relaxes, hugging Sumia back. Cordelia walks closer to shake Robin’s hand when Sumia finally releases her.

“Thank you so much, Robin,” Cordelia speaks sincerely. “We’ll have to name our next horse after you.”

Robin laughs, looking back where the rest of the team stands in a line by the wall watching. Robin feels her own heart grow softer at the looks of kindness they all send Sumia and Cordelia.

“It wasn’t me that did all of this,” Robin smiles, just a hint of pride sneaking its way into her voice. “I wouldn’t have been able to do anything without my team.”

“I suppose we’ll need to plan on getting many more horses for all of your names then,” Cordelia amends.

“Good luck to the both of you.” Robin gives them both one last smile.

Seeing that as the cue to go, the others file out. Gaius is the only one to remain behind, walking directly up to the two women as he digs around in his pockets for something. Robin watches in amusement as he pulls out a sugar cube.

“Hey, can you, uh… feed this to Luna for me?”

“It will be our pleasure,” Cordelia accepts it graciously.

Gaius meets Robin’s eyes for a moment as he slips past her in the doorway. His smile is almost shy. Robin, resisting the urge to chuckle, nods to Cordelia and Sumia, then closes the door.

○

It’s late when Robin is at last back in the comfort of her own home. The drizzle outside leaves specks of water dancing down the long windows as Robin slips out of her shoes and hangs her coat up beside the others on the rack. She notes that they have been tidied up, everything in neat rows.

Walking around through her kitchen to her living room, she pauses.

“That was a nice touch with the tourists and the camera,” Robin says to seemingly no one.

“Your team basically handed me that one,” Jakob says, stepping out from the shadows of the meeting room behind Robin. “It was sloppy to keep letting her out of your sights.”

“Hm,” Robin chuckles. “And bringing Swift Wing’s trainer really helped us wrap everything up nicely. Though it did make you look quite the fool in the process.”

Jakob chuckles back dryly.

“That paperwork you had Vasto sign also helped me save the company a massive amount of money in the payout,” he returns. With her back to him, Jakob doesn’t see her grimace. The tenseness of her shoulders is harder to hide. “You know better than anyone how much Excellus hates writing a check.”

Robin turns to look Jakob in the eye, her face pained, but steady.

“Robin, what happened to your son never should have happened,” Jakob continues more softly. “Not even Excellus himself can deny that the situation was terrible. …I read over the case.”

“Then you know that Excellus came to the wrong decision,” Robin says, a challenge in her voice.

“It’s not my place to say if it was wrong or right.”

“You never hesitated to tell me your opinion before.”

Jakob hesitates, his cool detachment wavering.

“It was a treatment that could have saved Morgan’s life,” Robin continues, trying to smother the emotion building up in her throat. “But Excellus wouldn’t pay for it. Because it was experimental.”

“I know,” Jakob says quietly.

“Excellus let my son die. And I looked after that. Through other cases like ours. I’m not the first person to be screwed over. Corrupt corporations digging for more money is one thing, but beating down the little guy when he’s already on the ground… it’s too much. I couldn’t stay and have a hand in that.”

“You’re not wrong,” Jakob replies. Robin can hear anger start to slip through the cracks of his usual façade. “I hate Excellus, Robin. Do not mistake me.”

“Then why are you still there?”

Jakob hesitates again.

“There are some things that are more important to me. I need Excellus to get me where I need to be.”

Robin makes a displeased noise in the back of her throat, turning away from Jakob.

“What, you weren’t expecting me to drop everything and come and help you, were you?” Jakob asks. “What I’m doing is too important. I can’t let you get in the way of that, Robin.”

“What, by helping you?” Robin retorts, spinning back.

“You can’t help me with this little ‘above the law’ act.”

“I’ve never considered myself above the law.” Robin sets her jaw. “I like to think that I’m picking up where the law leaves off.”

“How arrogant,” Jakob scoffs.

“Look who’s talking.”

Jakob scoffs again, but has no argument for that.

“I’ve been screwed over too many times to place my trust in those with power,” Robin says, her voice wavering for just an instant.

“I won’t be so nice next time,” Jakob says at last.

“Neither will I.”

Jakob disappears back into the dark, leaving Robin alone in her apartment as the rain picks up outside. She wipes angrily at her eyes before the tears can even fall, walking quickly over to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle. She doesn’t bother with a glass, drinking the whiskey straight. Bottle in hand, she walks back to the living room to go up the stairs, flopping heavily down in her bed, careful not to spill a drop. She reaches for the drawer in her nightstand as she drinks, pausing for a moment to look at the pictures she’s retrieved.

Morgan had his father’s radiant smile and his mother’s love for adventure. Robin chokes back a sob as she gets to the picture at the bottom of the stack.

Morgan’s last birthday was in the hospital. As weak as he had grown, nothing could dampen his smile as he sat up in the hospital bed, proudly holding his birthday cake with five candles, surrounded by balloons and gifts from friends and family. The book Robin had gotten him about airplanes was tucked under his arm.

He’d always wanted to fly.

Robin sets the pictures back heavily onto the nightstand, grasping onto her bottle so hard that her knuckles turn white. She keeps drinking, trying to chase off the nightmares.

#fire emblem awakening #fea #fire emblem #fire emblem fanfiction #fire emblem awakening fanfiction #Robin #adventure #A Matter of Leverage

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readbookywooks · 7 years

Text

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes

Harry spun faster and faster, elbows tucked tightly to his sides, blurred fireplaces flashing past him, until he started to feel sick and closed his eyes. Then, when at last he felt himself slowing down, he threw out his hands and came to a halt in time to prevent himself from falling face forward out of the Weasleys' kitchen fire. "Did he eat it?" said Fred excitedly, holding out a hand to pull Harry to his feet. "Yeah," said Harry, straightening up. "What was it?" "Ton-Tongue Toffee," said Fred brightly. "George and I invented them, and we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer...." The tiny kitchen exploded with laughter; Harry looked around and saw that Ron and George were sitting at the scrubbed wooden table with two red-haired people Harry had never seen before, though he knew immediately who they must be: Bill and Charlie, the two eldest Weasley brothers. "How're you doing, Harry?" said the nearer of the two, grinning at him and holding out a large hand, which Harry shook, feeling calluses and blisters under his fingers. This had to be Charlie, who worked with dragons in Romania. Charlie was built like the twins, shorter and stockier than Percy and Ron, who were both long and lanky. He had a broad, good-natured face, which was weather-beaten and so freckly that he looked almost tanned; his arms were muscular, and one of them had a large, shiny burn on it. Bill got to his feet, smiling, and also shook Harry's hand. Bill came as something of a surprise. Harry knew that he worked for the wizarding bank, Gringotts, and that Bill had been Head Boy at Hogwarts; Harry had always imagined Bill to be an older version of Percy: fussy about rule-breaking and fond of bossing everyone around. However, Bill was - there was no other word for it - cool. He was tall, with long hair that he had tied back in a ponytail. He was wearing an earring with what looked like a fang dangling from it. Bill's clothes would not have looked out of place at a rock concert, except that Harry recognized his boots to be made, not of leather, but of dragon hide. Before any of them could say anything else, there was a faint popping noise, and Mr. Weasley appeared out of thin air at George's shoulder. He was looking angrier than Harry had ever seen him. "That wasn't funny Fred!" he shouted. "What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?" "I didn't give him anything," said Fred, with another evil grin. I just dropped it....It was his fault he went and ate it, I never told him to." "You dropped it on purpose!" roared Mr. Weasley. "You knew he'd eat it, you knew he was on a diet -" "How big did his tongue get?" George asked eagerly. "It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!" Harry and the Weasleys roared with laughter again. "It isn't funny!" Mr. Weasley shouted. "That sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard-Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons "We didn't give it to him because he's a Muggle!" said Fred indignantly. "No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git," said George. "Isn't he, Harry?" "Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley," said Harry earnestly. "That's not the point!" raged Mr. Weasley. "You wait until I tell your mother -" "Tell me what?" said a voice behind them. Mrs. Weasley had just entered the kitchen. She was a short, plump woman with a very kind face, though her eyes were presently narrowed with suspicion. "Oh hello, Harry, dear," she said, spotting him and smiling. Then her eyes snapped back to her husband. "Tell me what, Arthur?" Mr. Weasley hesitated. Harry could tell that, however angry he was with Fred and George, he hadn't really intended to tell Mrs. Weasley what had happened. There was a silence, while Mr. Weasley eyed his wife nervously. Then two girls appeared in the kitchen doorway behind Mrs. Weasley. One, with very bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth, was Harry's and Ron's friend, Hermione Granger. The other, who was small and red-haired, was Ron's younger sister, Ginny. Both of them smiled at Harry, who grinned back, which made Ginny go scarlet - she had been very taken with Harry ever since his first visit to the Burrow. "Tell me what, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley repeated, in a dangerous sort of voice. "It's nothing, Molly," mumbled Mr. Weasley, "Fred and George just - but I've had words with them -" "What have they done this time?" said Mrs. Weasley. "If it's got anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes -" "Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" said Hermione from the doorway. "He knows where he's sleeping," said Ron, "in my room, he slept there last -" "We can all go," said Hermione pointedly. "Oh," said Ron, cottoning on. "Right." "Yeah, we'll come too," said George. "You stay where you are!" snarled Mrs. Weasley. Harry and Ron edged out of the kitchen, and they, Hermione, and Ginny set off along the narrow hallway and up the rickety staircase that zigzagged through the house to the upper stories. "What are Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" Harry asked as they climbed. Ron and Ginny both laughed, although Hermione didn't. "Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George's room," said Ron quietly. "Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that..." "We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things," said Ginny. "We thought they just liked the noise." "Only, most of the stuff - well, all of it, really - was a bit dangerous," said Ron, "and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren't allowed to make any more of it, and burned all the order forms....She's furious at them anyway. They didn't get as many O.W.L.s as she expected." O.W.L.s were Ordinary Wizarding Levels, the examinations Hogwarts students took at the age of fifteen. "And then there was this big row," Ginny said, "because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop." Just then a door on the second landing opened, and a face poked out wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a very annoyed expression. "Hi, Percy," said Harry. "Oh hello, Harry," said Percy. "I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know I've got a report to finish for the office - and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs." "We're not thundering, "said Ron irritably. "We're walking. Sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic." "What are you working on?" said Harry. "A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation," said Percy smugly. "We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year -" "That'll change the world, that report will," said Ron. "Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks." Percy went slightly pink. "You might sneer, Ron," he said heatedly, "but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products that seriously endanger -" "Yeah, yeah, all right," said Ron, and he started off upstairs again. Percy slammed his bedroom door shut. As Harry, Hermione, and Ginny followed Ron up three more flights of stairs, shouts from the kitchen below echoed up to them. It sounded as though Mr. Weasley had told Mrs. Weasley about the toffees. The room at the top of the house where Ron slept looked much as it had the last time that Harry had come to stay: the same posters of Ron's favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, were whirling and waving on the walls and sloping ceiling, and the fish tank on the windowsill, which had previously held frog spawn, now contained one extremely large frog. Ron's old rat, Scabbers, was here no more, but instead there was the tiny gray owl that had delivered Ron's letter to Harry in Privet Drive. It was hopping up and down in a small cage and twittering madly. "Shut up, Pig," said Ron, edging his way between two of the four beds that had been squeezed into the room. "Fred and George are in here with us, because Bill and Charlie are in their room," he told Harry. "Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to work." "Er - why are you calling that owl Pig?" Harry asked Ron. "Because he's being stupid," said Ginny, "Its proper name is Pigwidgeon." "Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all," said Ron sarcastically. "Ginny named him," he explained to Harry. "She reckons it's sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he won't answer to anything else. So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me too, come to that. Pigwidgeon zoomed happily around his cage, hooting shrilly. Harry knew Ron too well to take him seriously. He had moaned continually about his old rat, Scabbers, but had been most upset when Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, appeared to have eaten him. "Where's Crookshanks?" Harry asked Hermione now. "Out in the garden, I expect," she said. "He likes chasing gnomes. He's never seen any before." "Percy's enjoying work, then?" said Harry, sitting down on one of the beds and watching the Chudley Cannons zooming in and out of the posters on the ceiling. "Enjoying it?" said Ron darkly. "I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. According to Mr. Crouch...as I was saying to Mr. Crouch... Mr. Crouch is of the opinion...Mr. Crouch was telling me...They'll be announcing their engagement any day now." "Have you had a good summer, Harry?" said Hermione. "Did you get our food parcels and everything?" "Yeah, thanks a lot," said Harry. "They saved my life, those cakes." "And have you heard from -?" Ron began, but at a look from Hermione he fell silent. Harry knew Ron had been about to ask about Sirius. Ron and Hermione had been so deeply involved in helping Sirius escape from the Ministry of Magic that they were almost as concerned about Harry's godfather as he was. However, discussing him in front of Ginny was a bad idea. Nobody but themselves and Professor Dumbledore knew about how Sirius had escaped, or believed in his innocence. "I think they've stopped arguing," said Hermione, to cover the awkward moment, because Ginny was looking curiously from Ron to Harry. "Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?" "Yeah, all right," said Ron. The four of them left Ron's room and went back downstairs to find Mrs. Weasley alone in the kitchen, looking extremely bad-tempered. "We're eating out in the garden," she said when they came in. "There's just not room for eleven people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks, please, you two," she said to Ron and Harry, pointing her wand a little more vigorously than she had intended at a pile of potatoes in the sink, which shot out of their skins so fast that they ricocheted off the walls and ceiling. "Oh for heaven's sake," she snapped, now directing her wand at a dustpan, which hopped off the sideboard and started skating across the floor, scooping up the potatoes. "Those two!" she burst out savagely, now pulling pots and pans out of a cupboard, and Harry knew she meant Fred and George. I don't know what's going to happen to them, I really don't. No ambition, unless you count making as much trouble as they possibly can...." Mrs. Weasley slammed a large copper saucepan down on the kitchen table and began to wave her wand around inside it. A creamy sauce poured from the wand tip as she stirred. "It's not as though they haven't got brains, she continued irritably, taking the saucepan over to the stove and lighting it with a further poke of her wand, "but they're wasting them, and unless they pull themselves together soon, they'll be in real trouble. I've had more owls from Hogwarts about them than the rest put together. If they carry on the way they're going, they'll end up in front of the Improper Use of Magic Office." Mrs. Weasley jabbed her wand at the cutlery drawer, which shot open. Harry and Ron both jumped out of the way as several knives soared out of it, flew across the kitchen, and began chopping the potatoes, which had just been tipped back into the sink by the dustpan. "I don't know where we went wrong with them," said Mrs. Weasley, putting down her wand and starting to pull out still more saucepans. "It's been the same for years, one thing after another, and they won't listen to - OH NOT AGAIN!" She had picked up her wand from the table, and it had emitted a loud squeak and turned into a giant rubber mouse. "One of their fake wands again!" she shouted. "How many times have I told them not to leave them lying around?" She grabbed her real wand and turned around to find that the sauce on the stove was smoking. "C'mon," Ron said hurriedly to Harry, seizing a handful of cutlery from the open drawer, "let's go and help Bill and Charlie." They left Mrs. Weasley and headed out the back door into the yard. They had only gone a few paces when Hermione's bandy-legged ginger cat, Crookshanks, came pelting out of the garden, bottle-brush tail held high in the air, chasing what looked like a muddy potato on legs. Harry recognized it instantly as a gnome. Barely ten inches high, its horny little feet pattered very fast as it sprinted across the yard and dived headlong into one of the Wellington boots that lay scattered around the door. Harry could hear the gnome giggling madly as Crookshanks inserted a paw into the boot, trying to reach it. Meanwhile, a very loud crashing noise was coming from the other side of the house. The source of the commotion was revealed as they entered the garden, and saw that Bill and Charlie both had their wands out, and were making two battered old tables fly high above the lawn, smashing into each other, each attempting to knock the other's out of the air. Fred and George were cheering, Ginny was laughing, and Hermione was hovering near the hedge, apparently torn between amusement and anxiety. Bill's table caught Charlie's with a huge bang and knocked one of its legs off. There was a clatter from overhead, and they all looked up to see Percy's head poking out of a window on the second floor. "Will you keep it down?!" he bellowed. "Sorry, Perce," said Bill, grinning. "How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?" "Very badly," said Percy peevishly, and he slammed the window shut. Chuckling, Bill and Charlie directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, and then, with a flick of his wand, Bill reattached the table leg and conjured tablecloths from nowhere. By seven o'clock, the two tables were groaning under dishes and dishes of Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking, and the nine Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione were settling themselves down to eat beneath a clear, deep-blue sky. To somebody who had been living on meals of increasingly stale cake all summer, this was paradise, and at first, Harry listened rather than talked as he helped himself to chicken and ham pie, boiled potatoes, and salad. At the far end of the table, Percy was telling his father all about his report on cauldron bottoms. "I've told Mr. Crouch that I'll have it ready by Tuesday," Percy was saying pompously. "That's a bit sooner than he expected it, but I like to keep on top of things. I think he'll be grateful I've done it in good time, I mean, its extremely busy in our department just now, what with all the arrangements for the World Cup. We're just not getting the support we need from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ludo Bagman -" "I like Ludo," said Mr. Weasley mildly. "He was the one who got us such good tickets for the Cup. I did him a bit of a favor: His brother, Otto, got into a spot of trouble - a lawnmower with unnatural powers - I smoothed the whole thing over." "Oh Bagman's likable enough, of course," said Percy dismissively, "but how he ever got to be Head of Department...when I compare him to Mr. Crouch! I can't see Mr. Crouch losing a member of our department and not trying to find out what's happened to them. You realize Bertha Jorkins has been missing for over a month now? Went on holiday to Albania and never came back?" "Yes, I was asking Ludo about that," said Mr. Weasley, frowning. "He says Bertha's gotten lost plenty of times before now - though must say, if it was someone in my department, I'd be worried...." "Oh Bertha's hopeless, all right," said Percy. "I hear she's been shunted from department to department for years, much more trouble than she's worth...but all the same, Bagman ought to be trying to find her. Mr. Crouch has been taking a personal interest, she worked in our department at one time, you know, and I think Mr. Crouch was quite fond of her - but Bagman just keeps laughing and saying she probably misread the map and ended up in Australia instead of Albania. However" - Percy heaved an impressive sigh and took a deep swig of elderflower wine - "we've got quite enough on our plates at the Department of International Magical Cooperation without trying to find members of other departments too. As you know, we've got another big event to organize right after the World Cup." Percy cleared his throat significantly and looked down toward the end of the table where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting. "You know the one I'm talking about, Father." He raised his voice slightly. "The top-secret one." Ron rolled his eyes and muttered to Harry and Hermione, "He's been trying to get us to ask what that event is ever since he started work. Probably an exhibition of thick-bottomed cauldrons." In the middle of the table, Mrs. Weasley was arguing with Bill about his earring, which seemed to be a recent acquisition. "...with a horrible great fang on it. Really, Bill, what do they say at the bank?" "Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure," said Bill patiently. "And your hair's getting silly, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, fingering her wand lovingly." I wish you'd let me give it a trim...." "I like it," said Ginny, who was sitting beside Bill. "You're so old-fashioned, Mum. Anyway, it's nowhere near as long as Professor Dumbledore's...." Next to Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Charlie were all talking spiritedly about the World Cup. "It's got to be Ireland," said Charlie thickly, through a mouthful of potato. "They flattened Peru in the semifinals." "Bulgaria has got Viktor Krum, though," said Fred. "Krum's one decent player, Ireland has got seven," said Charlie shortly. "I wish England had got through. That was embarrassing, that was." "What happened?" said Harry eagerly, regretting more than ever his isolation from the wizarding world when he was stuck on Privet Drive. "Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," said Charlie gloomily. "Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland was slaughtered by Luxembourg." Harry had been on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team ever since his first year at Hogwarts and owned one of the best racing brooms in the world, a Firebolt. Flying came more naturally to Harry than anything else in the magical world, and he played in the position of Seeker on the Gryffindor House team. Mr. Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before they had their homemade strawberry ice cream, and by the time they had finished, moths were fluttering low over the table, and the warm air was perfumed with the smells of grass and honeysuckle. Harry was feeling extremely well fed and at peace with the world as he watched several gnomes sprinting through the rosebushes, laughing madly and closely pursued by Crookshanks. Ron looked carefully up the table to check that the rest of the family were all busy talking, then he said very quietly to Harry, "So - have you heard from Sirius lately?" Hermione looked around, listening closely. "Yeah," said Harry softly, "twice. He sounds okay. I wrote to him yesterday. He might write back while I'm here." He suddenly remembered the reason he had written to Sirius, and for a moment was on the verge of telling Ron and Hermione about his scar hurting again, and about the dream that had awoken him...but he really didn't want to worry them just now, not when he himself was feeling so happy and peaceful. "Look at the time," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly, checking her wristwatch. "You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Harry, if you leave your school list out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There might not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time." "Wow - hope it does this time!" said Harry enthusiastically. "Well, I certainly don't," said Percy sanctimoniously. "I shudder to think what the state of my in-tray would be if I was away from work for five days." "Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred. "That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!" said Percy, going very red in the face. "It was nothing personal!" "It was," Fred whispered to Harry as they got up from the table. "We sent it."

#GobletofFire #HarryPotter

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weasleydream · 4 years

Text

The betrayal

Hi guys! A new imagine, I guess we can say it’s angsty... Also, I changed a few details for this story... Anyways, hope you enjoy and share your thoughts!

Masterlist

The darkness of the night had already covered Privet Drive when we arrived. Adjusting my position on my broom, I glanced at my boyfriend, Fred Weasley. He was next to me, slightly behind as he kept glancing at me too. He seemed as worried as I was. Not because of our little flight with some members of the Order - no, it was totally wonderful - but because something way more dangerous was going to happen. Harry needed another protection since the one given by his mother would disappear soon. Our mission was simple: bring Harry safe to the Burrow. However, the plan was way more difficult. Basically, it involved Polyjuice potion, six Harry-soon-to-be, seven protectors and seven houses, along with, of course, the Burrow which was strongly protected with powerful spells.

Harry seemed delighted to see his closest friends, but he was also surprised. He didn’t know about the new plan, and Mad-Eye explained him what was going to happen. In the meantime, Fred and I were holding hands and examining the living room. A few years ago, Fred, George, Mr Weasley and Ron had burst into this room destroying the mantelpiece. The same day, the twins had given a Ton-Tongue Toffee to Dudley, Harry’s cousin. I could still remember their laughter when they had told me about this. I made eye contact with my boyfriend, and I immediately knew that he was thinking the same thing as me: These happy times seem so far from us…

Our thoughts vanished when George snapped his fingers between our faces with a smirk on his face.

“Sorry to disturb lovebirds, but Death Eaters are waiting for us.”

“Yeah, it would be a shame to be late.” I replied.

With a sigh, I followed the twins and we placed ourselves next to Fleur. Mad-Eye grabbed six glasses and filled them with Polyjuice Potion, which contained now Harry’s hair. We were gonna drink them, as disgusted as we were, when Fred screamed.

“Wait!”

Without losing a second, he grabbed my waist, pulled me towards him and kissed me as if it was our last chance to show our love to the other one. He was holding me as close to him as possible, his arms on my back, while my hands were lost on his hair. I tried desperately to print in my brain the softness of his ginger hair, the taste of his lips against mine, the sound of his little moans, but above all, I wanted to remember the way my heart would beat faster when he was around, and the way I loved him.

I didn’t want him to break the kiss but he did, and he whispered while his forehead was resting against mine:

“Whatever happens, I love you. Forever, Y/N, you hear me?”

“I love you too, Fred, forever and ever.”

“Are you done? We have a plan to follow.” Mad-Eye’s stern voice destroyed our little bubble.

“Why didn’t you wait for our actual departure for your heart-wrenching goodbye?” George spoke.

“When we’ll both have Harry’s face? No, thanks.”

Mad-Eye, obviously annoyed, gestured us and we drank the Polyjuice Potion. Being friend with the twins since what felt like forever - and having tried a lot of their products when they still weren’t fully developed - I would have thought that I knew what an uncomfortable sensation would be. Well, I was wrong. Nothing had prepared me to feel my bowels burning, nor to the strong impression that I was literally melting. The transformation was quite painful. When it finally finished, I looked at my, no, at Harry’s hands. They were larger than mine and the skin was slightly lighter. It was strange, and, when I looked up to see six other Harry in the room, it felt worse. I couldn’t imagine how the real Harry was feeling. Once every Potter dressed, Mad-Eye paired us off.

“You’re gonna leave in the following order: Y/N, with me on a broom; Arthur and Fred…”

“I’m George, not Fred.” My idiotic yet adorable boyfriend tried to lighten the mood, much to the former auror’s annoyment.

Three minutes before the departure, everyone left the comfortable house. I followed Tonks, nervously biting my lips, and suddenly Fred’s voice resounded in the night.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

I turned around and spotted the Harry next to Bill frantically looking for me. I rushed towards him and engulfed him into a hug. It felt so wrong because I felt Harry’s body, not Fred’s, but I didn’t mind because I knew who was in there. At this moment, and for the first time since I had volunteered for this mission, I became aware of the fact that it could be the last time I saw Fred. What if he died? What if I died?

“Don’t die, Y/N, oh please, don’t die…”

It was a sort of litany, a complaint marked with fear. He thought I was in danger -well, in a bigger danger than him - because my protector was Mad-Eye, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would think the real Harry would travel with the best auror. I had tried to reassure him, I told him that I would be perfectly fine because Mad-Eye was the best.

“Be careful, Fred, I’m begging you…”

My voice was filled with the tears I didn’t want to shed. My hands were clutching his jacket, not wanting to let him go, not wanting to let him put himself in danger. I had never been more afraid. Hearing Mad-Eye’s voice alerting us that it was almost time, the panic rose in me and I found myself whispering furiously the names of my favourite twins, of the boys who had supported me all my life, my boyfriend and my best friend. A Harry came instantaneously and, assuming it was George, I grabbed both boys’ arms.

“Be careful boys, I want to see you alive at the Burrow, alive and unharmed, okay?”

They both nodded, George ruffling my hair and whispering to me to stay safe too, and Fred holding tightly my hand, not wanting to let me go. But we didn’t have the choice, and we broke the contact. It felt horrible, as if by letting go his hand, I was saying goodbye to Fred and I wouldn’t see him again.

I took my broom and placed myself next to Mad-Eye. He slightly turned his head and whispered a strange order.

“If Death Eaters are waiting for us, I want you to use only one spell.”

“Which one?” I was confused.

“Expelliarmus.”

We had been betrayed. Someone knew, and someone told He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that we would transfer Harry this night. Death Eaters were waiting for us, and as soon as the seven pairs separated, they started to follow us. Twelve Death Eaters were behind us. Green flashes of light invaded the dark sky. At first, I tried to dodge them, but I gave up and obeyed Mad-Eye’s order.

“Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus!”

I shouted as quickly as possible, trying to disarm our pursuers. I couldn’t understand why my protector had ordered me to use only that spell, whereas I knew plenty others that would have been much more effective. Suddenly, a deadly spell hit Mad-Eye. He, the toughest auror, was dead and was now falling, his body similar to a rag doll. A scream escaped my lips as I vainly tried to reach him.

Suddenly, a black cloud, apparently made of smoke, appeared next to me. The only thing I could see was his red eyes, snake eyes, and his wand pointed on me. A pure terror took hold of me, I didn’t know how to react as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was facing me. The only thought I could manage was that the plan had succeeded, he thought I was Harry, and the real one would be -

Suddenly, all was black.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The lands around the Burrow were awfully quiet. Everything looked normal, as if a very dangerous mission, almost suicidal, wasn’t ongoing.

The first one to arrive was the real Harry. Unaware of the losses he would have to face later, Hedwig’s one still not fully accepted. Soon, others arrived. George, who was slowly becoming himself again, had lost an ear. An awfully great amount of blood was covering his face and his neck. The other teams arrived one by one. When Fred rushed into the house, following his father, his heart pounding, one of his greatest fears came true.

George was lying on the couch, unconscious, his hair and clothes still soiled by dried blood, and his stomach twisted when he saw the hole where his brother’s ear should have been. He was speechless. His brain couldn’t process what had happened to his twin and he was unable to think about something else.

George woke up and pulled some joke about his ear, clearly trying to lighten the mood. He didn’t know that two teams were still missing, Bill, Fleur, Mad-Eye and Y/N’s absence becoming more and more worrying.

“Where is Y/N?”

Her name had popped into Fred’s head, and immediately his heart started pounding again against his rib-cage. His hands were shaking uncontrollably and he violently stood up.

“Where is she?” He was screaming. “WHERE IS SHE?”

No one responded. His mother’s teary gaze met his. She wasn’t there. Fred fell on his knees, his hands slowly reaching his hair, where her hands had been sooner. Tears were slowly falling from his eyes. He knew something bad had happened to her. It was evident. He should have been the last to reach the Burrow with his father, and four persons were still missing. He didn’t even realize that Bill was kneeled in front of him, a hand on his shoulder and his face also covered in tears.

“Fred, Mad-Eye is dead… They took her.”

His world broke into a thousand pieces, along with his heart.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

He was furious. Yes, furious because none of his Death Eaters had been able to understand their mistake. He was walking slowly towards the Malfoy’s manor, the snake close to him as he triturated the wand he had taken from Lucius Malfoy, this incapable. Pain.

His fury was increasing while he was walking. When he had understood that their prisoner wasn’t Potter, he had tried to reach him, but he was too late. And the wand hadn’t surpassed Potter’s one. Ollivander would have some explanations to do. Burning sensation.

She was tied up on the floor, Potter’s clothes still on her, and she was looking him in the eyes. She was smirking. This little girl was smirking at him.

“You’re not Potter.” His voice was deeper, thanks to his rage.

“It seems pretty obvious.”

Even in this difficult position, she showed arrogance and pride. She knew, this filthy kid, she knew that Potter was safe and out of reach. Fear.

He turned his back, watching alternately each Death Eater present in the room. Disgusted by their panic, he turned again to see her.

“Who are you?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, not a pleasure to meet you.” Stop this!

“Maybe you want to give us some informations, who knows, it could save your life.”

She smirked. Y/N NO!

“I won’t. I have the feeling that you are furious because Harry has humiliated you once more. You are unable to beat him. You won’t succeed.”

He lost his temper.

“Avada Kedavra!”

Harry opened his eyes. Everyone was watching him. He was facing Fred. He was crying and watching straight into Harry’s eyes. Deep down, he knew. Fred knew what had just happened.

“She’s dead.”

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The two men were facing each other. They weren’t even trying to hide their hatred. The one with scars all over his face grumbled.

“Why are we here?”

“You’re gonna bring Potter to somewhere safe. When? Where?”

“Why should I respond?”

“Because the Dark Lord wants to know.”

Mad-Eye glared suspiciously at Snape.

“The next week. Saturday. To the Burrow.”

Snape nodded. He was obviously thinking fast, his eyes narrowed and fixed on the auror without seeing him.

“What’s the plan?”

“Side-Along Apparition. I’ll go -”

“No.” Snape interrupted. “Thicknesse is under the Dark Lord’s influence. It’s impossible. You must use Polyjuice Potion, in order to have seven Potters instead of one. They won’t know. You won’t take the real Potter with you, take someone...unimportant… This person will have to be on a broom and use the Disarming Charm. The Death Eaters will think it’s him.”

“You want to sacrifice someone?” Mad-Eye hissed.

“You want to save Potter? You want to defeat the Dark Lord?”

Mad-Eye stayed silent. As awful as it seemed, Snape was right. Someone’s life had to be sacrificed if he wanted Potter to be safe. No one had to know. This conversation would stay a secret.

“I have to go. I will tell the Dark Lord that Potter will be transferred next saturday. I will tell him I think he’s gonna travel with you. Good luck, Mad-Eye.”

The men shook hands, and Snape disapparated.

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