#weasley twins fluff
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listen. i am slighlty obsessed with mamma mia— which means i adore abba's songs. so just yesterday i decided to listen to the songs from the movie.
and, because i'm in a huge harry potter brain rot, guess what: amanda seyfried and dominic cooper's duets could so easily be you, reader, and the weasley twins singing with you, because they know just how much you love listening to abba.
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so yes, to the point where you, fred and george know every single line. and on karaoke nights? the twins know by heart when it's their turn to sing.
i feel like fred is the most enthusiastic about it. lay all your love on me gets more tension between you, staring into each other's eyes, feeling every line:
no, fred wasn't a jealous man at all when he met you! but yes, every man fred sees now is a potential threat, trying to take you away from him — usually, he lifts you up on his arms, looking around with a serious look, as if to watch out of his best-friend-slash-love-of-his-life thieves.
george is possessive! which isn't nice. he uses his fingers to pretend that he was holding a cigarette, blowing air like a smoker would, because now he has another obsession, a bigger vice: you!
now all of this isn't true. now everything is you— and this is when both twins make their way to you, crowding, surrounding you, leaving nowhere to run.
all that the cheeky twins have learned as overturn: so they beg of you, george kneeling on the floor, fred pointing at his bleeding heart, making you laugh everytime.
you get to sing the other part of the song freely, with even more enthusiasm as them, knowing every low and high of the song, and the twins can't help but smile everytime you are this happy.
on the chorus, though? the three of you are screaming, yelling your lungs out.
unironically, i feel like at least one of the twins finds out they're in love with you here. fred, probably because he feels the song too strongly, feeling selfish of you, wishing all of your love to be layed on him— george, on the other hand, realizes how insanely in love he is for you. how (healthily. he hopes.) obsessed he is for you, and all of the moments you spend together.
however, one of us gets a playful yet theatrical vibe, exchanging smiles and dramatic expressions, as if you and them really had just argued. as if you're a couple on the verge of breaking up, as if you were rotting on bed, wishing to be on george's arms or listening to fred's schemes— at the burrow, a place that feels like a second home to you, because it's where fred and george are on their most domestic displays.
once the music starts, the three of you get a neck ache, snapping your heads to stare at each other, grabbing any cylindrical object to be your microphone.
you have enough seconds to change your goofy, enthusiastic smiles into sorrowful expressions, frowning as if this was a painful truth to be sang.
you sing. you point at them, accusing them of breaking your heart— everytime, george looks at you, offended that you think he'd do such a thing! fred, on the other hand, nods as if he was accepting his fault.
they sing together the lyrics, fred finishing with ''waiting for a call...'', looking at you a little too lovingly— secretly, fred hexed a box with all of your letters, which he reads during vacations and holidays that you're far from him, dearly missed by him. every morning does fred weasley wake up in hopes that mixed with arthur's work letters, harry's letters to ron and ginny's friends giftcards, there's something written by you to him.
they sing together a few more words, because this time, it's george who finishes the chorus by himself: ''wishing he had never left at all...''; a feeling he remembers all too well, every single time he has to leave your company to go to his own classes, classes that you don't share due to belonging to different houses. that little heartache, of seeing you turn your back and leave, after waving him goodbye— you live in different houses, sometimes too far for him to chase your company in the middle of the night, or to straight up tell you something stupid he just remembered.
deep down, everytime this song is so passionately sang by the three of you, the twins wish to never get to feel exactly as the song proposes. the feeling of things getting so bad, that one of you has to leave.
being the most patient and more of the "good" twin of the duo, george is hopeful that being on no-speaking-terms wouldn't happen, and if it did, only lasts a few hours. george is hoping that you and him are such a good match, a match made in heaven and hell, never fight this hard.
however fred, the "bad", 10% more devilish of the duo, fears that his impulsive words might hurt you so much one day, that he'll be laying on his bed and wishing to be with you instead, knowing he messed up.
at first, the twins frowned at your music taste. sometimes abba's songs are frequent on dorms' parties, fred too focused on dancing and jumping amongst the other students' enthusiasm. george, however, is a little more observant of the others' fun, watching his friends dance and other boys trying to make a move on the girls they fancy— which means, watching is baby brother ron trying to get a dance with hermione.
it gets them a little effort to like abba as much as you do. george is the first to learn the lyrics, making an effort for you and to sing a long on car drives. fred struggles at first, but gets surprised when his voice naturally sings along.
when did he learn the full song? the full album, even? he accuses you of bewitching him.
( truthfully, fred becomes a bit of a bigger fan of abba than george, now that he gets to dramatically and theatrically sing the songs with you. )
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pretending that you're a little younger and flirting with him on does your mother know?, or you singing it out of spite when the twins mess up, when you just know that they will, sooner than later, listen to molly weasley's wrath for what they did.
all brotherly and stupidly supportive, being the one who remembers to sing chiquitita of all songs, fred starts the famous ''chiquitita tell me what's wrong...'' when you're sad about a low grade or crying— yes, this makes george wheeze his voice out everytime even though he tries so much to take your problems seriously.
waterloo is a song you feel... personally. because everytime you are defeated— fred and george won the war: convincing you to join their schemes, silly pranks, and future plans. the history book on the shelf is always repeating itself: you, fred and george at the crime scene once again. you promise to love fred and george forevermore— fred teases that you couldn't escape even if you wanted to (mf is tall, has long legs and is capable of running FAST after you); george, on the other hand, assures that he knows, fred knows, you know that your fate is to be with them.
going to detention, fred opens his arms to you, and soon george gets what his (slightly) older twin is about to scream: "can't you hear me? SOS!"; when you're gone, though they try, how can they carry on? detention is a little more bearable when you're caught red-handed with them, and so, you, fred and george have a date later at evening, to clean the great hall or other part of hogwarts. "and the love you gave me, nothing else can save me, SOS!" is a lyric you know all too well, because if you decide to be a little more sarcastic, slightly cold to them, george wraps your shoulders with his arm and tilts his head to look at you and sing it to you, meanwhile, fred shows up in front of you with a forearm on his forehead. a true damsel in distress, now that he sees the little sassy monster he and george created.
super trouper is a core memory to you, the twins, and dear ginny weasley, once again crying because of her first unrequited love on harry potter. something only you know, because you and ginny wouldn't want poor harry to suffer too much with fred and george's pranks. this time, each of your hands pull one twin to the side, then you point at ginny, who's a little more calm after crying her eyes out, and sing the first part of the song. fred thinks it's a good idea, honestly, since you always laugh at chiquitita, and for a second george seems to regret this friendship. because, are you serious? but then, when ginny smiles and accepts your invitation to join the spectacle, george decides that super trouper is a favorite of his— specially because he and fred know that somewhere in the crowd, you'll be there. and they'll be there when you arrive. always. forever, if fate allows them.
on valentine's day, george is the one to start this whole abba epidemy you're having. take a chance on me starts shyly with george, because you haven't received any letters or chocolates despite your popularity (which is cough more of fred and george's fault cough after effective threats on any funny little guy who fancies you). fred laughs incredulously, because as bad with seriously sweet words as he is, he doesn't believe that is identical twin is starting this conversation with an abba song. but of fucking course. and if you're wondering, yes, it did work. you took a chance on them.
voulez-vous is sang by you, the twins, and everyone else at the hufflepuff's party, when the team wins against slytherin. it's then that fred, if he wasn't an official fan of abba, admits that you have a good taste— because it's easily one of the funniest and enjoyful moments of the party: if there were students outside the dance floor, with voulez-vous, everyone is standing up and crowding hufflepuff's common room. layers of circles of students move to the left, the layer behind to the right, and so on. the whole time you're singing to fred and george, and when it's time to your students' circle to move again, fred gets on your left so george stands on your right, making sure that the enthusiasm of other students don't push you to the ground, or hurt you unintentionally. even when they're having the most fun, fred makes sure you're in the middle of them— for the first time, being the slightest responsible twin.
and yet, when you're being the kindest soul to help the weasley twins decorating their shop, money money money is the mandatory song to attract good business, good luck, and good clients for them. it'll be a rich man's (men) world indeed, when weasley's wizard wheezes starts getting so famous, that fred and george promptly have a jar of savings— money to be spent with you, on you, for you. to spoil their best-friend-slash-love-of-their-lives.
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should i make a series?
#mamma mia#abba#fred weasley#george weasley#weasley twins#scenario#headcanons#fluff#fred weasley x reader#george weasley x reader#weasley twins x reader#fred weasley x you#george weasley x you#weasley twins x you#weasley twins scenario#the burrow#ginny weasley#weasley family#weasley twins platonic#weasley twins fluff#harry potter#fred weasley x y/n#george weasley x y/n#weasley twins x y/n
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Admirer ( George Weasley )
requested by anon: "ooh if it vibes with you I think you'd do the prompt "I'm not staring at you, I'm admiring you." with George weasley really well :3"
word count: 1.2k
warnings: a whole lot of fluff, like a lot a lot
pairing: george weasley x fem!reader
author's note: I needed some fluff and this was the perfect request. thank you for sending it in. I definitely vibed with it.
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On some weekends, when most of your fellow students were all in Hogsmeade, you liked to stay behind and enjoy the quietness of the common room. There were still the first and second years around, but seeing as though it was now spring, most of them were outside and enjoying the warmth of the sun.
You sat on the sofa, in front of the fireplace that wasn’t lit up, yet it still felt cosy to sit there. You had your favourite book in your hands, smiling every so often whenever something funny or sweet happened to the characters. From time to time, other Gryffindors walked past you to either go up to the dormitory or to slip through the portrait hole.
You were too immersed in your book that at first, you didn’t even notice someone sitting down next to you. Only when they cleared their throat you looked up at that person. A bright smile graced your face once you noticed that it was your boyfriend, George.
“What are you doing here? I thought Fred, Lee and you would be in Hogsmeade getting new stuff for your products.”
George shook his head, moving closer to where you were. He pressed a soft kiss on your temple, quickly glancing down at the book that you were still holding tightly in your hands before he looked up into your beautiful e/c again.
“We were supposed to get a few things, but the delivery takes one more week, so we all must wait. And I, the good boyfriend that I am, thought I would come back and spend the rest of the day with my gorgeous girlfriend.”, he explained, wiggling his eyebrows.
You couldn’t help but laugh while you playfully pushed him away from you. You looked down at your book, swiftly flicking through the pages, noticing that there were only a few more pages left.
“This is really sweet, but can you give me a few more minutes? I’m almost done with this chapter and I want to finish it. It’s getting really interesting now.”
“Sure. I’ll just sit here and wait.”, your boyfriend stated, moving away from you so he could completely stretch out, his feet almost touching yours.
You uttered a quick ‘thanks’, and before you knew it, you were back in the world of your book, reading as quickly as you could without missing a thing. You didn’t want George to wait for too long. Seeing as though the young man who you were lucky enough to call your boyfriend was a year older than you, hence you weren’t really able to see one another as much as you would like. He was not only busy with schoolwork, which of course he sometimes neglected a bit too much but he was also immersed in developing his and his twin brother’s new products. So, normally the two of you mostly saw each other late at night in the common room or in one of the abandoned classrooms that no one really used anymore. You were able to spend most of your time together on the weekend though.
Occasionally, you looked up at George, wanting to know what he was up to, but whenever you glanced his way, you noticed his eyes already watching you, a soft smile gracing his lips until you looked at the words in your book again.
The more you peered over at your boyfriend, the more embarrassed you got. Why couldn’t he stop staring at you? Of course, it was adorable, but it also made you lose focus.
“Can you quit staring at me? I can’t concentrate.”, you said, shutting your book a bit too harshly.
“I’m not staring at you, I’m admiring you.”
You could feel the heat rushing up your cheeks after your boyfriend's confession. You put your book in front of your face, hearing George chuckle. He moved closer to you again, lifting his hand up only for him to lower your book.
“Why are you hiding? I love to see you blush.”
It was true. George loved to make you blush and seized every opportunity to do so. He loved the way your face was almost as red as a tomato whenever he complimented you or whenever he teased you. You were lucky though. It was mostly compliments that your boyfriend used to make you blush.
“And what were you admiring? I was just reading my book.”, you mumbled, putting the book on the floor before you sat up properly and waited for George to explain himself. You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyebrows lightly raised.
“You looked really cute … beautiful actually. You were so concentrated on the story, and your eyes moved so quickly from side to side. Your hair fell in front of your face multiple times. Sometimes you didn’t even notice, but when you did, you pushed them back, only for them to fall back. You even tried to blow them out of your face. You pouted, I don’t know why, but it looked adorable, and - ”
“Okay. I get it.”, you said quickly.
George chuckled once more, stretching his arm so his hand could find yours, which he gently squeezed. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you before he pressed a gentle kiss on top of your head.
“I could see the passion you have for this book. Maybe you can lend it to me, so I can find out what it’s all about.”
You looked up at the young ginger-haired man, your eyes slightly widened, still comprehending the words your boyfriend had just said to you.
“You? You want to read? Voluntarily?”
You both couldn’t help but laugh out loud, knowing exactly that George would never read a book. He wouldn’t even read the books he needed for his classes. He always hoped that you or maybe Hermione had already read it. Although both of you were younger than the twins, you liked to read books that needed advanced knowledge.
“You just know me too well. Come on, let’s go outside.”
Your boyfriend got up from the sofa, simultaneously pulling you up as well, only for you to stand face to face now; George was just a bit … a lot taller than you.
Now it was your time to admire him. His beautiful smile, the slight crinkles by his eyes, his fluffy hair …
“Stop it.”, he interrupted you, his lips finding yours almost instantly, kissing you as lovingly as possible.
You smiled into the kiss, reluctantly pulling away, knowing that a few first years sat in the common room, watching the two of you making out in the middle of the room.
“Let’s go, admirer.”, you whispered against his lips, kissing him once more before you made your wait through the portrait hole.
#george weasley x reader#george weasley imagine#george weasley x you#george weasley x fem!reader#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley fluff#weasley twins imagines#weasley twins fluff#george weasley fic#george weasley x gryffindor!reader#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter imagines
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Another day being stuck a in new hyper fixation. It’s alright I don’t really wanna leave anyway. At least Christmas shopping will be easy for me this year
I blame @joka13 I’m a Slytherin obsessed with the twins. Their fanfiction could not be more perfect for me
#weasley twins x reader#weasley twins fluff#weasely twins#weasely#fred weasley#george weasley#weasley twins#harry potter#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#Hogwarts#hogwarts aesthetic#hogwarts houses
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Y/n: *literally just existing*
Fred from afar: *staring lovingly*
Fred: look at her...I would die for her...I would kill for her...either way, what bliss?
George:
Lee:
Everybody near him:
Fred:...I said that out loud, didn't I?
#freddie<3#wolfstar daughter#y/n lupin black#fred#fred weasley x you#fred weasley#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley smut#the weasleys#weasley twins#the weasley twins#george weasley#lee jordan#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#fred being a simp#gomez addams#gomez and morticia#addams family#morticia addams#wolfstar
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Blindsided | G.W.
Summary: As the Gryffindor Quidditch team celebrates their win on the field, Malfoy begins to openly throw insults in front of George and Fred towards them, their parents, Harry, and you. George isn’t able to ignore and shrug off his mockery. It only ends in a shocking altercation between the Redheaded Gryffindor and sneering Slytherin.
Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader
Category: hurt/comfort, fluff
WC: 2.9k
CWs: physical fighting, depictions of violence/fighting, blood, yelling, injuries
A/N: this fic is based off that one part in OOTP (chapter eleven), i’m still so upset they didn’t include it in the movie </3
The Gryffindor section of the stadium roared with applause and hollered once Harry caught the Golden Snitch, getting the team 30 points ahead of Slytherin, causing Gryffindor to win and finally end the game.
Harry flew to the middle of the stadium, flying high up, smiling as he held up the snitch in his hand with two fingers wrapped tightly around it, presenting it to the entire stadium. He flew down and landed carefully on the field, Fred and George went down after him, then the rest of the Gryffindor team did as well.
Fred and George abandoned their brooms and ran over to Harry, Fred was giving him aggressive pats on the back while George ruffled his hair as they praised him. You grinned at their brotherly behavior towards Harry. The proud athletes began to grin and cheer loudly while punching their fists in the air in victory, hugging each other tightly, giving each other high-fives and handshakes all in celebration.
But of course, Draco landed by, ready to ruin this happy moment, and started to sneer about something towards the Gryffindor team, it seemed that Harry was the only one to notice, he turned around to look at Draco, then turned back towards his team when he stopped talking, he was trying his best to ignore him and not bark back at the Slytherin boy.
You smiled and applauded along with everyone else, you decided to leave your spot and excitedly walk down the stairs to go and congratulate Harry and the rest of the team on the field, also because you mostly wanted to see George. You were too impatient and too excited to wait an hour or so because George had to clean up.
You completely forgot that Draco was spitting something at the other team and constantly pointing at Harry, George, and Fred.
While Fred was squeezing Harry's shoulder and George was in the midst of a handshake with Harry, you watched the twins' heads snap up at Draco and their bodies stiffen, the big grins they previously had on their faces disappeared immediately. Yours did as well.
At this point you were running onto the field because you knew something was off, something was about to happen, and whatever it was going to be, it definitely won't be good.
You got there in time to hear most of what Draco was mocking about.
"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called out towards them, “But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly and we wanted to sing about his mother, but we couldn't fit in useless loser either for his father!” He laughed, you looked at George, a scowl covered his face which was red with anger, there was practically steam coming out his ears. You grabbed onto his hand, squeezing it, to try and get his attention.
George looked down at you, his face softened slightly at the sight of you, but it was still covered with rage, you shook your head slowly at him, mouthing ‘no’, as an attempt to get him to calm down, knowing he was seconds away from doing something stupid, he sighed and looked back at Malfoy.
“Oh! I see your little girlfriend has come to your defense, hasn’t she Georgie?” Malfoy mocked, George’s fists balled up, hands shaking, his fingers were squeezed tightly around yours to the point where it was uncomfortable, yet you still kept your hand in his.
"You like the Weasley's, don't you, Harry? Especially you too, Y/L/N. You spend the holidays there and everything, I see you take any advantage you could get to be around George. You definitely have a liking for him, huh?” It seemed Malfoy had forgotten about Harry at this point, his attention drifted from Harry to you, you were now his target.
“In my opinion, I can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been raised in a dirty-blooded household even the Weasley's hovel smells okay." Malfoy smirked.
You turned around to figure out where Fred went, only to see a panicked Angelina trying to calm down him as well.
"Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just a sore loser.” Angelina stood in front of him, placing her hands flat gently on his chest. Alicia and Katie eventually joined in on trying to hold him back and calm him down too.
Harry stood on the other side of George, grabbing his upper arm, muttering to George that Malfoy was just trying to rile him up, attempting to get him to walk away as he looked around for Hooch, who was still lecturing Crabbe about his illegal Bludger attack. George didn’t budge.
"Or perhaps," Malfoy continued, leering as he slowly walked towards you, getting more in your face with every step, "it makes you think about your dirty muggle life, Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it, doesn’t it, you filthy mudblood?" He let out a small laugh and then walked away. Those last few words were all it took for George to snap. Fred and Harry as well. However, Fred was stuck, still being held back by the others.
It only was a few seconds before you felt George's hand slip from your grip, you saw him and Harry sprint towards Malfoy.
All of it, everything happened so quickly.
Harry shoved Malfoy back around, he held back his fist that was still holding the Snitch, then sunk his fist into Malfoys stomach, he nearly fell over from the force of the hit as he groaned and held his stomach in pain. But, they weren’t done there. Malfoy attempted to stand up straight and throw his fist at Harry, only to be headbutted and slammed on the ground by George.
Once they were both on the ground, Harry stood on one of his arms while George hovered over him, delivering strong blows to Malfoys face and bellowing out in rage. Repeatedly punching him left and right, letting out all his fury into Malfoy's face.
You gasped and covered your mouth with two hands in shock, you were frozen. You didn’t know what to do or how to stop him, if you could even be able to stop him. It was scary, George was scary. This was a whole new side of him you’ve never seen before.
“Fuck you, Malfoy! Don’t you ever talk about my family! Don’t you ever fucking call Y/N that! Stupid piece of shit!” George screamed at him as he continued to beat him. You couldn’t hear everything he said due to his screaming eventually blending in with the crowds, several voices pleading for him to stop, some were encouraging the altercation.
“Harry! Get him off!”
“Stay back, Fred!”
“I’ve been waiting for this to happen!”
“Get a picture of this Colin!”
“Why’s nobody helping him?”
“Do something!”
“Fight! Fight! Fight!”
“Why isn’t she doing anything?”
“He’s gonna kill him!”
“Someone get Madam Hooch!”
Voices screamed and overlapped from all around the stadium.
Kids were leaning over the wooden rails, standing on their seats, some were even using the binoculars they brought to get a closer look at the altercation.
George only paused for a second to warn Malfoy. He grabbed him by the collar, partially lifting him up from the grass.
“If you ever, ever say anything like that about my family or my friends again. I will leave you with more than a broken nose. Do you understand?” George had the look of a madman covering his face, Malfoy only nodded and whined. Yet, George let go and let him fall back on the ground, and went back to delivering hits.
There was so much noise. The crowd screaming, Fred screaming to be let go of, the girls trying to quieten him down, the repeated sound of bone hitting bone, George continuing to swear, Malfoy crying out in pain, the impact of the punches.
A whistle blew, but George didn’t care, he ignored the strong, high pitched sound, his hearing was only focused on the sound of the impact from his fists swinging into Malfoy's face instead.
“Impedimenta!” A woman's voice hollered. George, along with Harry, was knocked over backward, the force of the spell flinging them away from Malfoy, who was curled up on the grass, clutching his stomach, groaning and whimpering with blood from his nose covering the bottom center half of his face and staining his Quidditch uniform.
George hit the ground right next to you, only sporting a small nosebleed with a swollen and split open lip, he attempted to leap back up on his feet, but you grabbed onto him to keep him down, you noticed that Fred was still being restrained by the others, eventually giving up on trying to launch at Malfoy, knowing the fight was over and there was no chance he’d be able to get to him without getting launched back too.
"What on Earth do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch as she walked closer, stopping once she was standing next to Malfoy.
"I have never seen behavior like this! Both of you, back up to the castle and straight to your Head of House's office! You too Frederick Weasley! Go! Now!” Hooch pointed and drifted her finger between each of the three boys. Harry began to storm out, George getting up exhaustedly, still taking heavy breaths while walking off. He didn’t say a word as he passed by you, only making eye contact for a second.
You weren’t able to read what the exact look on his face was, it was a mixture of anger, sadness, and maybe even some disappointment.
“The rest of you, return to your common rooms right this moment!” The crowd filled with groans and whispers as they began to exit out the stadium.
You sat on the sofa in the common room, the book you were trying to read sitting open and abandoned next to you. You had one leg perched up, your chin sat on your knee, as you watched the flames dance in the fireplace. Fred, George, and Harry stormed in the room, they were all stripped from their Quidditch uniforms and had large scowls on their faces.
You weren’t even able to get a word out before they had all gone up to their dorm.
You sighed to yourself, laying down on the sofa, watching and listening to the fire crackle and glow. You couldn’t stop thinking of what happened earlier, it was taking over your mind.
You’ve never seen George so serious, so angry, so full of rage.
You felt guilty, maybe even a little gross, because a part of you liked watching it go down. Seeing that side of George was scary, but you liked it.
Of course you liked seeing Draco get what he finally deserves. But, you liked seeing George during it. You liked how concentrated he was, how he screamed and swore at him, you liked seeing his strength being put to use for something other than Quidditch, you liked how you got to see him let his anger out, you liked how he defended the people he cared about.
The weight of exhaustion had finally hit you, the events of today had worn you out completely. You soon fell asleep on the sofa after accepting the fact that you enjoyed watching George during the altercation, that you enjoyed it maybe a bit too much.
Your eyes fluttered and slowly rose open, you inhaled while taking a look at your surroundings, you couldn’t have been asleep for too long, as it was still night, the common room was quiet, but one thing had changed. George was sitting on one of the chairs across from you.
“Hi.” He gave you a weak and forced smile, the cut on his lip was scabbed up now.
“Hey. Um, how are you doing?” You propped yourself up on your elbow.
“Um….” His leg repeatedly bounced up and down quickly, he bit his cheek, his eyes wandered around the room, he was planning on what he was about to say next.
He took a large breath in through his nose.
“Umbridge permanently banned us from the Quidditch team.” He ignored answering your question, going straight to the bad news. Maybe his response could be his answer though, it’s obvious with an aftermath like that, he wasn’t doing good.
“What?” You exclaimed, launching yourself up and completely out of your seat.
“We’re banned from the team, we’re banned from the game. We can’t play. At all.” George shook his head with a frown on his face.
“Are you serious? But- What about Malfoy?” You paced around, it was weird talking to him in such a serious and gloomy manner.
“Nothing happened to him. Except…you know?” George gave an awkwardly tight lipped smile as he brought his bruised hands up, flipping each side to you.
“Yeah, but…shit.” You sighed, flopping back on the sofa, disappointed about the outcome of what happened to all of them. George only let out a hum of agreement.
“Fred’s taking it worse than I am. I think he’s still upset he didn’t get to join in on the beating.” He attempted to joke, you let out a small laugh, then you bit your cheek and looked at his hands, his knuckles were covered in shades of red and purple, small scabs on the tip of some. George caught on and noticed your staring.
“Oh Godric, I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re not scared of me, right? Please don’t tell me you are.” His voice filled with panic, he must’ve thought you were scared he was going to be seen as an impulsive and violent person by you.
“I’m not scared, I’m…worried. I guess I'm just still thinking about everything.” You gave a forced smile as you reassured him.
“Oh, okay.” He breathed out as he looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers.
“Are your hands okay? Are they broken? Did you see Madam Pompfrey for it?”
“I didn’t want to bother her this late, she’s already taking care of Malfoy so. But, yeah they’re fine. They should be.” He shrugged.
“Alright. Well, are you okay?” You tried your best to get a look at his face.
“I think I should be the one asking you that.” He let out a weak laugh, you did the same. You soon noticed that you hadn’t thought one bit about what Malfoy said when he was ridiculing you. The intensity of the fight overtook your thoughts.
After that, it was silent. Neither of you knew what to say next, you were both going over all the things Draco had said to you before George had him on the ground in your heads.
“You didn’t deserve that, for him to say all those things about you.” He moved from his spot in the chair to next to you on the sofa, crouched over, his elbows on his knees with his fists stuck together clumsily.
“Your family didn’t deserve to be talked about like that either.” You added in, trying to push the focus on them and not you.
“Of course, I should’ve scrapped him once he mentioned my mum. At least she wasn’t there to hear him say all that rubbish.” He scoffed, “It’s not fair that you were however…I just don’t want you to be his next target because of me.” He whispered the last part, your heart broke at it. He thought those insults towards you were his fault?
You opened your mouth, trying to think of something to say in response. You couldn’t think of anything. A million thoughts were going through your head yet you were still speechless.
“‘Cause, I care for you. You know? I really do.” He added, his voice filled with sweetness and gloom.
“I do too, George. You mean a lot to me.” You unclenched his fists from each other, taking one of his hands and intertwining your fingers with his.
“Really? I do?” He sat up and looked at you, there was genuine surprise on his face.
“Of course, you absolutely do.” You smiled with your eyebrows raised. Was he really questioning how much he meant to you? Does he not know how much you care for him?
There was another silence, but this time it wasn’t sad or awkward or embarrassing or guilt ridden, it was something else. A much stronger feeling. A tension. A positive tension.
You only looked at each other, admiring each other's features, you took in every freckle scattered around his face, his dark umber colored eyes, his smooth skin, his long red eyelashes, his soft lips.
Then something inside you snapped, but not like how George snapped earlier on the field. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his, you felt him push into the kiss. His hands gently cupping around your face. It felt as if both of your lips were magnets, pulling into each other.
You pulled away to catch your breath. George stared at you, face covered in shock and passion. You weren’t able to form a sentence, he took all the words out of your mouth once he connected his to yours.
“I was hoping you would do that.” Was all he said as he grinned and you giggled, blushing and attempting to turn your head away only for it to be pulled back by George's hands holding your face and pulling you back in for more.
tell me what you thought! <3
#george weasley#george weasley x reader#george weasley x fem!reader#george weasley fanfic#george weasley fic#weasley twins#weasley twins fic#george weasley smut#george weasley fluff#george weasley angst#hogwarts#wizarding world#the order of the phoenix#harry potter and the order of the phoenix#ootp
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No Going Back - George Weasley x Reader
Summary - During the Yule Ball, you and George accidentally brew a sex pollen potion instead of amortentia.
Warnings - fluff, pining, and last but not least, smut (characters are aged up to be 18 in their last year of school). No use of Y/N.
Word Count - 4.4k (edited) (i’m not sorry)
a/n - i <3 george weasley. i also mean no snape slander, just making comments more realistic for the pov :)
!gif not mine!
“Whatcha doin’?” you asked as you walked into the almost-empty classroom.
George lifted his head from the boiling cauldron he was watching over when you entered, eager to share what he had created.
“Well, my dear, Fred has instructed me to try and brew Amortentia so he can try and woo Angelica. He didn’t know how to do it, so I thought I’d step up and give it a try. I was the one that took the notes during Snape’s lecture, anyway,” he explained, winking at you playfully after the last part.
The boys were notorious for not paying attention in class, but George had recently begun to share your preference for potions class. After the night in the common room you shared, filled with fun stories and passionate rants about how useful a knowledge of potions could be, he seemed to become more interested in Snape’s lectures. George even made note to ask you to get together to share notes between quizzes and tests. You were glad that he was becoming more interested in school, but couldn’t stop wondering why he seemed so excited about a topic only after you had went on about your own love for it. Of course, you weren’t complaining, especially because now he seems to want to spend more time with you alone, and you’ve had a crush on him since the two of you were seated next to each other in 5th year charms.
“Is that so? Does Fred not seem to think he can woo her on his own?”
“Apparently not. He’s been trying too hard and thinks he’s overdone it. He’s asked her to the Yule Ball like 3 times already,” George says, chuckling over his brother’s endeavors.
“Yikes. He clearly didn’t inherit the charms of the family then,” you joked, nudging George’s arm with your elbow. He leaned forward towards your stature, smirking with intrigue at your comment.
“And who do you rather think inherited those genes?” he asked you playfully, his prideful smirk remaining on his beautiful, freckled face.
“Ah, well, I’d have to say Harry, being as your mother counts him as part of the family, and he seems to have more charm with the ladies than any of you!” you declared, smiling widely.
George tilts his head back, clutching his chest in faux agony.
“Oh how you wound me, dearest.”
The two of you share a charged moment of giggling before the moment got cut short with a terrible sound coming from the cauldron.
“Merlin, I forgot to keep stirring it!” George exclaimed, rushing over to the side of the cauldron once again.
Just as he reached the bubbling, smoking mixture, a popping sound and a wall of purple smoke filled the room in less than a second. Once the dust settled, you looked over at George only to fall into a fit of laughter at his appearance. The tall, muscular ginger was covered head-to-toe in a purple dust, which left not a part of his body uncovered. The tall man wiped his eyes, if only to playfully scowl at you laughing at him. Of course, he found your giggles so contagious, he couldn’t help but fall into a fit of them himself.
Once the laughter died down, you and George began walking back to his common room to clean up.
“Guess I’m going to need some help with that potion, too,” he chuckled.
⏃⏂⏃
The time was getting late, or so it felt like. Everyone else had left your common room, but George remained determined to finish the unit the two of you were working on. Snape had made a paper due in two days from when it was assigned, like the evil bastard he is, and you knew George was stressing. He was never very good at writing papers. Like the good friend you are, you had offered to help him, especially with his wording. He had gladly accepted, appreciating your help. Then, not only would the two of you get to spend time together, but you could help him become a better student, which was always a nice goal.
After the third question he answered was revealed to be wrong, George groaned and laid his head back on the common room couch seat, covering his face with his hands. You propped your arm up on the seat as well and turned your body to face George, trying not to let that beautiful groan go to places it shouldn’t. You were just friends, after all.
“It’s alright George, I’m sure you know it. You just need a little break,” you comforted, laying a hand on his shoulder gently.
George released his hands from his face, allowing them to slide to his sides once more, and turned his head to face you. You could’ve sworn you saw a blush donning his cheeks as his eyes flicked ever so slightly towards your hand, but the moment passed just as quickly as it had appeared. His beautiful brown eyes glistened in the light coming from the fireplace, and a heat began to rush to your own cheeks. You wanted to blame that on the fireplace as well.
“Perhaps. Maybe we should put on some music. A little dance party never hurt anyone,” he suggested, a shit-eating grin beginning to take over his face.
With a nod of agreement from you, George popped up and put on a record. You groaned as you heard the first few notes of O’ Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds begin to play. Of course the man would put on a song he knew you couldn’t resist dancing to. He flounced over to where you were seated on the floor and reached out his hand, a glimmer of mischief lingering in his eyes. You grabbed his hand and he pulled you up to your feet so quickly it felt like you were flying for a second, so much so that you lost your balance and fell a bit forward into George’s arms. You were able to quickly gain your composure, giggling it off and turning your head away so he couldn’t see the redness that had climbed onto your cheeks. All George did was chuckle at you, and he began leading you with the hand he still held to the main area of the common room. The man used your hand to turn you around and begin the dancing he had suggested, and you couldn’t help but laugh. The two of you turned and swayed to the rhythm until you naturally fell into a close position, chests only inches apart, hands clasped together. It felt as if you were at last year’s Yule Ball, only this was much better, since you didn’t have a nervous Seamus stepping on your toes. You swayed to the music in perfect harmony, easily falling into an unspoken rhythm that always followed the two of you. George must’ve been thinking the same thing you were, because after a few more seconds of only the music filling the room, he spoke in a hushed tone.
“This is nice. I like dancing with you,” he smiled.
“I like dancing with you too, George. You’re surprisingly good at it.” George rolled his eyes playfully.
“Yeah, well, let’s just say I practiced to impress my date last year. Seems I was the only one out of the two of us,” he chucked, eyes gleaming with the memory. “She stepped on me so many times, I think I have permanent markings on my shoes.”
You giggled, sharing his pain.
“Poor little George,” you teased.
“Oh hush, you,” he fired, wrinkling his nose in the way that made your heart flutter.
After another quiet moment, he seemed to hesitate at saying something else. You piped up and bugged him to say what was on his mind, eager to hear what he had to say.
“I don’t know if it would be weird, but would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me this year? It would save us from having to scramble to find decent dates. And hey, if it’s anything like tonight, I think my shoes will be intact by the end of the night,” he chuckled, trying to make light of the question, but his arms had seemed to tense up a bit.
You smiled up at him, trying your best to not let him feel your nerves.
“Of course I’d like to go with you. I’m sure it’ll be amazing. I heard they were even trying to get Nick Cave come perform this year!”
George sighed and continued your conversation as the two of you continued to sway to the music, but you could’ve sworn his body relaxed with that breath of air. You tried to shake the thought off, because why would he be nervous about asking you to go to the dance? You were sure your crush was merely one-sided. Thinking he had any other feelings towards you would only lead to your own heartbreak, so you pushed the thoughts down and simply tried to enjoy this moment.
⏃⏂⏃
As the ball continued on, you and George couldn’t help but get restless. The music this year was terrible compared to last year, and somehow they managed to mess up the catering, so the pumpkin juice was watery at best. As the night droned on, you couldn’t help but want to get out of there. You knew it wasn’t proper, since it was the middle of the party, but you could tell most people were not having a good time by the amount of people secluding to their tables.
George and you had danced a bit in the beginning, but the two of you agreed that it began to suck so bad it wasn’t even worth trying to jam to. Instead, you had found your way to your table with his brothers, and laughed the night away. The Weasleys never failed to make a boring event a good time. That is, until Fred began pestering George about the Amortentia. George tried to wave him off, but once Fred left, he seemed genuinely bothered by the fact he wasn’t able to brew it. As you thought more about what went wrong, it felt as if the idea just fell right into your lap.
“George, I know what went wrong. We can fix the potion for Fred!” you shared excitedly, placing your hand on his freckled arm. He turned to you, face lighting up.
“Really? We can do it right?” he asked excitedly.
“I think so! C’mon, then!” you exclaimed, standing from your chair.
“What? Now?”
“Yes, now! Would you rather stay here and watch Neville try to dance with your sister again? Because I assure you, they are the only ones having fun at the moment.”
George laughed, grabbing your hand.
“Let’s go, then,” he said, shit-eating grin returning to his beautiful features.
⏃⏂⏃
George basically dragged you back to his dorm. Strangely, this was never how you pictured this happening. Yet, here you were. Honestly, his setup as a prefect was not too shabby at all. An entire room and bathroom to himself, a nice desk he could lay out papers and his cauldron on, a whole story above the main dorms? He was pretty much living the dream up there.
The man eagerly began taking his notes from different books, all scattered along his desk. Though the man had his own space for once, you knew he still wouldn’t clean up after himself. Guys.
After about an hour that had only felt like mere minutes, the two of you had almost completely finished the potion. After decent care and proper mixing, there was only one step left to complete the most powerful love potion ever made.
“Alright then, the recipe says that you must add three drops of unicorn tears, exactly. No more, no less,” you explain.
“What happens if more is added? I don’t have the most reliable dropper,” George questions fretfully.
“Beats me. I’ve never seen it done in real life before. Just, be careful, I guess.”
George looks back at you, a worried look in his eyes as he turns to the cauldron.
“Now or never, I guess. Here we go... there’s one, two...”
Before George could finish his sentence, a cloud of dark red smoke erupts from the cauldron and fills the room. The two of you look to each other in horror, equally knowing that is not how the potion should act.
“What did you do?” you questioned frantically.
“I don’t know! I guess the dropper malfunctioned and did two fast drops instead of only one! What’s it going to do?”
“I don’t know, don’t ask me! Do you think it’s going to explode again?”
The two of you look to the cauldron, which remained calm as ever. The smoke even began to settle. You sighed with a bit of relief.
“I don’t think so,” George answered. “Last time it did that because of the bubbles. It seems to be settling all by itself.”
Just as the you began to relax, thinking nothing was to come out of fucking up the potion, you noticed the smoke beginning to seep into George’s skin. You looked down at your legs to see it was doing the same to you. George didn’t seem to notice, and it didn’t feel like it was doing anything to your body, so the two of you decided to call it a night.
You were in the process of going back to your dorm when all of a sudden, a burning desire settled into your lower abdomen. A sensation that you’ve never felt before began building and building, taking over your entire body by the second. Your body began feeling hot all over, and an all too familiar wetness began to pool in your panties. You rushed back to your dorm, and thankfully none of the other girls were back from the dance yet. You thought maybe satisfying yourself would make the world-burning desire subside, but even long after you finished and attempted to go to sleep, the feeling of needing more lingered in you. You tossed and turned, but no amount of sleepiness could satisfy your growing need. Giving in, you swiftly got out of bed and stormed over to George’s dorms, wondering if he was having the same affects as you.
Right as you were about to knock on his door, it swung open to the tall, flushed man glistening with sweat. George’s face was almost as red as his hair, but even in this condition, he was as beautiful as ever. The moment you saw him, the burning between your legs heightened. You tried to suppress your squirming.
“Hey,” George panted. “I was just coming to find you.”
He rushed you inside his room and locked the door quickly as you entered.
“What the fuck is going on?” you ask frantically, still trying to keep your movements under control, even when the itch to go up to George and kiss him was growing by the minute.
“I don’t know, one minute I’m fine, the next my skin feels like it’s on fire!”
“I know! What are we supposed to do?!”
“I don’t know that, either,” George gasped, throwing a hand into his sweaty but yet still perfectly curled hair. “We don’t know how long it takes to wear off. There’s no research in the school for this shit. I mean, I guess we can try doing it ourselves, but-”
“Doesn’t work,” you mutter, casting your eyes upon the ground. You desperately tried to hold yourself together as the dirty thoughts in your head became louder. “I tried.”
“You tri- oh. Okay, yeah. Wonderful,” he flushed more, if a such thing was even possible to do in his condition.
There was a nervousness to his voice, one that didn’t sound like it was stemming from the stress of the situation. The nerves felt like- like he was trying to hold desperately onto something he had been trying to keep for a while.
“Are you okay?” you ask.
“I mean, I could be better. This isn’t the best situation to be in right now, especially with you.”
“Especially with me? What’s that got to mean?”
“Ugh, I just.. I don’t know, okay? I’m stressed out enough, I didn’t need this- predicament. I’m already dealing with enough feelings.”
Thanks George, how vague.
“I mean, you can always go fix it. I know you’ve got a crush on Angelina, but you don’t want Fred to find out. You were being weird around her all evening. I can tell she feels the same, if that’s what you’re worried about. If you so badly want this to be fixed, I’m sure she would be happy to help you out,” you explain, even though your heart feels like it’s tearing into two by telling him.
You had seen the way Angelina had been looking at him all night. It made you sick, but you knew he was stressed about school, so if that push is what he needed to help him out, so be it. Who were you to keep him from his crush.
“Angelina? No! Even though Fred has a crush on her, I wouldn’t go for her anyway. I don’t like her like that. She’s not the one I would rather fix this with!” George exclaims, exasperated.
A pause. What? Who did he want to fix it with?
“Then who? Tell me whoever you’d like and I can try to track them down. I don’t want you stuck like this when you’ve got so much going on already.”
George shoves his hands in his hair again, letting out an exasperated and strained sigh. He plops on the side of his bed, that strong body of his looking weaker as he defeatedly sits there.
“You really don’t get it do you? Or do you enjoy seeing me in pain?”
Confused, your eyes flick to where they really shouldn’t have. There, sitting very uncomfortably in the leg of his loose basketball shorts, was a very large problem. The sight just about made your knees give out, and you stumbled back a bit to lean on the corner of George’s desk. Your mind flicked back to what he had said a moment ago. You really don’t get it.
“What do I not get?”
Another sigh.
“Have I not made it glaringly obvious? I try to study with you as much as I can, alone. I always make sure I play the songs that help your brain relax when you’re stressed. I make sure I sit on the right of you during classes so you can see the board. I asked you to the bloody Yule Ball. Can’t you see? I like you, okay? I always have,” George lets out like a wave of emotion. His hands fly up to cover his eyes, as if they were strained from stress or lack of sleep.
The fluttering in your chest begins again, but not the kind caused by the potion. George likes you? He likes you back? You heart begins beating so fast its sound fills your ears. A rush of emotions fill you. Happiness, clarity, regret of not seeing it sooner. You had pushed down the idea that he liked you for so long that you couldn’t see what was right in front of you! Now’s the time to make up for it, you guessed.
You walked slowly over to where George sat and faced him. Carefully, as if you were handling the most precious pottery, you moved your hands to remove his from his eyes. George looked up at you with his glimmering eyes full of questions, all of which you answered by leaning down and kissing him.
The moment your lips met, it’s as if time stopped. The most colorful fireworks seemed to flood your mind, because finally, you were kissing George, and he was kissing you back. He kissed you like he had been waiting for years, like you were his air and the two of you were underwater. His hands moved to cup your cheek and press along your back, pulling you closer to him until your bodies were flush against each other. The burning sensation along your entire body intensified, as if this is what the feeling was waiting for. George must’ve felt it too, because he let a groan seep into your kiss. Your legs almost gave out at the sound, and as quick as lightning, George flipped you so you were lying on the bed with him on top of you. Pausing to take a breath, George’s eyes flicked from your lips back to your eyes.
“You won’t believe how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he admitted, eyes gleaming in the light from the fireplace.
“Me too,” you whispered, taking a moment to trace his features with the tip of your finger. His freckles, his strong nose, breathtaking smile. Your hand settled on his cheek, thumb rubbing up and down like he was the most precious thing you had ever held. Honestly, he was.
George leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time. You could feel all his emotion pouring into the kiss, almost gasping from the intensity you felt. You let him take his time with you, mapping out your every feature with his lips, planting loving kisses all over. It was more than pleasant to say the least, having someone you had loved in secret for years finally loving you right back. You could’ve stayed like that for hours, if it weren’t for the increasing pressure and sensation in your abdomen. You were sure George felt the heat rising as well, because with a glance, he began kissing down your neck, paying special attention to the spot that made you squirm underneath him. Before you knew it, he was kissing down your clothed chest. His eyes flicked to yours, as if asking a question, and you nodded, moving to remove your shirt.
Once it was across the room, George reached behind and unclasped your bra with such skill it seemed like he had practiced just for this moment. The rush made your heart pump fast with excitement and anticipation, but what it pumped with the most was love for this man. You could tell how much he cared from every glance up to your face, always with the question of consent. You happily gave it to him every time, knowing there was no one else in the world you’d rather share this moment with.
Once your top was fully unclothed, George’s mouth began trailing all over your body, taking special time to grasp each nipple between his teeth. With each flick of his tongue, you could feel the burning sensation growing, so you grasped onto George’s shoulder as if to warn him. The potion must’ve been giving him the treatment it had given to you, because he seemed to understand each of your movements perfectly. That, or he already knew you the meaning behind your movements because he had always paid such close attention to your body language. After gaining consent, George happily ripped the rest of your clothes off in seconds, and George’s fingers trailed down to the spot with the most intense burning. The spot you had been waiting for. After getting the okay from you and wetting his fingers, he slowly pushed two into you, curling them perfectly to hit the spot that made your body go haywire. George watched as your back rose off the mattress, as your beautiful eyes rolled back into your head with every curve of his fingertips. It was the most breathtaking sight he had ever seen. After using his other hand to press on your lower stomach gently in order to intensify the feeling, he dipped his head bow and his tongue went to work on your throbbing clit. The pleasure this man gave you was so intense and incredible he had you in tears in seconds, working you up to one of the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced. Every muscle in your body was on fire, the perfect man giving you pleasure combined with the power from the potion sending you over the edge in less than a minute. Your body seemed to set fire as the coil in your stomach snapped and the pleasure hit you like a wave all at once. George took a moment to take in your movements, in awe of everything you did. Without wasting any more time, George crawled back up to you and kissed you, wrapping the arm he used to prop himself up with around your arm to cradle you. You felt elated, wanting nothing more than to have more of this man. He brought his head back to look at you and slowly raised one of your legs to wrap around his torso, all without breaking eye contact. With a nod and a slow, sensual kiss, George slowly pushed into you, supporting your head with his arm as you threw it back in pleasure. The feeling of his rock hard length pushing in and out of you at an insanely slow pace was driving you insane, the burning sensation making it feel like your world had just set fire.
“Faster,” you begged, grasping a hand on one of George’s large, muscular shoulders.
He did as you commanded, speeding up his movements. He set an above average pace, both of you on the verge of snapping from the mix of heat and pleasure the potion was providing, and his freckled features turned into such a beautifully nasty expression that it should be either framed or illegal. George looked too good all riled up and sweaty, you admitted to yourself.
Before you knew it, the two of you were reaching your brink. George picked up the pace, pounding you into the mattress so hard you were surprised it hadn’t given out under you. He reached his free hand down to toy with your clit more, hoping to speed up and intensify the impending feeling about to wash over you. Together, the two of you released all the tension that had been building up since you began loving each other, and it all washed over you in such an intense and intimate wave. You couldn’t have asked for anything better, because you had it all. The beautiful man that laid on top of you, feeling completely worn out and boneless, was everything you knew he was, and even maybe a bit more. He was as perfect as a man could be, and the best part is that he adored you somehow even more than you adored him. The love and care you had for each other matched no other. You knew after this there was no going back, but you were okay with that, because you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
#george weasley#george weasley x reader#hp fanfiction#HP#Harry Potter#george weasley smut#george weasley fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter smut#harry potter fluff#george weasley smu#g weasley#g. weasley#weasley twins#weasley#weasley smut#amortentia#love potion#sex pollen
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Polaroid Love - F.W
Fred goes to work with his father and comes home with a muggle Polaroid camera, deciding the best use of it would be to take horrendous pictures of his girlfriend.
Fred x fem!Muggleborn reader, established relationship, reader gets red, house and age not specific, tooth rotting fluff bc I love lovesick Fred, 1.2 k words
Being a muggleborn at the Weasley household was an experience, to say the least.
In the last week since you’ve been at the Burrow, you’ve explained what rubber ducks are for, how to operate a microwave, and Pythagorean theorem.
Today Aurthur took the boys to work with him, so you were currently helping Molly cook dinner.
You had yet to understand the witchy way of cooking, so you were stuck mixing a bowl by hand while Molly sent knives, pots, and pasta flying all across the room.
You ducked a flying cutting board right as the group of rowdy boys entered the front door, your boyfriends voice in particular carrying over the noise of clattering dish ware.
“Honey, we’re home.” Aurthur calls, and Molly meets them all at the door, asking you to ‘keep an eye on’ the multitude of activity in the kitchen.
You look around with wide eyes, imagining all the magical pots dropping to the floor and spoons stopping their stirring, Molly walking in and wondering how you were so incompetent that you would never be able to cook and therefore would be a horrible wife to her son.
You’re only snapped out of your reverie by a flash of light in your eyes, and you tumble back to your current environment— all the dishes are still floating, the spoons were still moving, and Fred was staring at you with a giant grin on his face.
“Hi Freddie!” You light up at the sight of your boyfriend, but don’t allow his attempt at hugging you, too focused on not disappointing your (hopefully) future mother-in-law.
“They’re not gonna stop working unless mom makes them, these things are always going.”
But you refuse to budge, and Molly walks in to see you holding your boyfriend away with one hand on his chest while you continue trying to stir with the other.
She lets out a laugh, telling Fred to leave you alone and go wash up before dinner.
“One kiss? Pleaseeee?” He gives you puppy eyes, and your face goes bright red.
“Not in front of your parents!” You hiss, but he steals a one anyway before running up the stairs and out of the way of the punch you tried to throw at him.
Molly pretends not to have seen, and you let your face cool down before asking what she wants you to do next.
Fifteen minutes later you’re sat at the large table, sandwiched between the twins while Ron talks to you from across the table.
“It was pretty fun, and we all got muggle souvenirs afterward, can you explain to me what this is?” He asks, holding up a PEZ dispenser with a cartoon character head on top.
You laugh, explaining how to get the candy out and watching as a few of the Weasley’s around the table stop to watch, Aurthur positively beaming at the discovery.
“Take a bite before dad can ask you something,” Fred whispers urgently in your ear, and you go to say something back but see Aurthur open his mouth on the other side of the table and you quickly scoop as much pasta into your mouth as you can fit.
You hear Fred laugh at you, and you turn to give him a glare; although it’s less scary due to the copious amounts of noodle hanging out of your mouth.
A flash once again momentarily blinds you, and you finally realize what it is when you see the small Polaroid camera in your boyfriend’s hand.
You go to yell at him, but still have pasta in your mouth so you settle for an angry groan and another smack to his arm.
You watch in horror as a piece of film comes out of the camera, which your boyfriend takes gingerly and looks at expectantly as it develops.
You finally manage to swallow your large bite, and you snatch the photo from his grasp, immediately being greeted by your own face, round with food in your cheeks and wide eyes while strands of pasta hang down your chin and sauce sits on the corners of your mouth.
“Freddie,” you groan in annoyance, but he just takes the photo back from your hands and looks at it proudly.
“It’s a lovely representation of you, darling.”
“It is not!!”
George is laughing too, and you turn back to your plate, trying not to think about the fact that your boyfriend now has two horrible pictures of you for keepsakes.
You try to help clean up after dinner, but Molly insists that someone else does it since you helped cook, so you head upstairs to your boyfriend’s room while Ron and Ginny grumble.
“Evening, love,” Fred greets as you enter the twins’ room.
“Y/n,” George greets as well, tipping his nonexistent hat to you before turning his back to you so he can start a letter to Angelina.
Your boyfriend uses the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, trapping you in his embrace and placing a kiss on your forehead.
“I missed you today.” He mumbles into your hair.
“It wasn’t even a full day,” you laugh, the sound muffled by his chest.
He scoffs, sitting down on his bed and pulling you onto his lap.
“So what, I’m not allowed to miss my girl?”
You feel your cheeks warming at the claim of being his, and you give him a teasing smile, “well when you say it like that..”
Before you can even move there’s another flash and you immediately groan, burying your head into the crook of your boyfriend’s neck.
“I’m really starting to resent your dad for getting you that.”
You feel his shoulders shake with laughter, but all he says is “I think it’s my second favorite possession.”
You raise an eyebrow at him, pulling back so he can see it.
“Second favorite?”
“Yep. After these pictures.” He grins, now holding up all three photos he’s taken of you since being home.
“Why can’t you just take pictures like a normal person?” You ask, looking at the two new photos, the one from earlier of you with a wooden spoon in your hand and eyes looking around while bowls float around your head, and the newest one of you sat on Fred’s legs with pink cheeks and a grin on your face.
“Normal people don’t get to keep your happy face in their pockets though, now do they?”
You watch as he puts the photos back, and you melt at the thought of your boyfriend wanting to document your joy to keep as his own.
“I’m always wearing my happy face when I’m around you, Freddie.”
He grins (ignoring George’s gagging) and pulls you down onto his bed, smothering you in kisses until he can no longer keep himself up and your face is brighter than his hair.
“Guess I’ll have to get more film then.”
And he does.
In fact, by the time you get back to Hogwarts from the holidays he’s got a whole wall of polaroids .
You in his Christmas sweater with a proud smile on your face and an F across your chest, you being squeezed by his mother in the worlds tightest hug, you on a broom in his backyard and a quaffle in your arms, you asleep on his bed, even one of you puckering up as if to give the camera a kiss.
And no matter how many times he looks at them, Fred still stares at the photos with a lovesick smile on his face, absolutely in awe at the ability to capture pictures that are so you, so full of light and love that he feels like the luckiest man on Earth to get to be yours.
#I typed Weasley so many times it doesn’t feel like a real word 😭😭#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x you#fred wealsey fic#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley#fred weasley x y/n#harry potter scenarios#harry potter boys#harry potter characters#weasley twins
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damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes
george weasley x fem!reader (hints on short!bookworm!fem!reader)
words| +- 4400
in short| classic story. George falls in love with his best friend. nothing more and nothing less
warnings| my english, angst, fluffy ending, mention of sex and long ranting about George's feelings
author’s note| it's supposed to be a short one. About 1000 words or so, but I got excited. and well, I tried to make it George's pov. because, you know, ✨️his pov✨️. also, it's my first scribbling in two years. enjoy))
He has been with other girls. He'd even said he has been with a lot of other girls.
There were a couple of girls he dated for a while. There were those he just fucked with. A quickie after a Quidditch match won't hurt anyone. It doesn't matter whether he won this match or not. He's well aware of the fact, that girls like him. But none of these so-called relationships were serious. Perhaps this was because he didn't consider any of them as something serious.
He tried this relationship thing because he was curious, what it's like to date a girl. But during his dates, bringing a cup, all painted with tiny violets, to his lips and listening to the chatter of his now ex-girlfriend, he thought that she'd never say such a thing and she'd never order such a lusciously sweet cupcake. And she wouldn't have dragged him to Madam Puddifoot's in the first place.
After smashing Hufflepuff to smithereens on the Quidditch field, he pressed some Ravenclaw's back to one of the walls in the locker room, pounding deep into her, hearing this girl's moans become louder with each thrust. He caught himself thinking about what her moans would sound like. Would she be filthy and loud underneath him or her moans would be more shaky and soft?
He wouldn't say any of these girls were bad, unattractive, or something like that. Just the opposite, all of them were great. But they simply weren't…her. She got deep under his skin, intertwined with his veins, and blossomed in his lungs. She was his Flower. That's how he called her.
George remembers clearly well how it started. No, not his feelings, they started so naturally, that he didn't even notice how he fell for her. George remembers clearly well how he started calling her flower. This happened back in the second year, during History of Magic. He was getting more and more bored by the second in that stuffy classroom. And there was nothing unusual about it. He got bored very easily. So he quietly began scribbling in the corner of her parchment. He remembers the angry look little Y/N gave him as she carefully pushed her piece of paper away from the redhead. She was also bored but did her best to focus on Professor Binns' words. But George continued, all smiling and trying to stifle his giggles caused by her irritation. At some point, his incomprehensible doodles began to look like something that resembled Professor Binns, but his glasses and mustache were abnormally large compared to everything else. She smiled, took George's hand, and carefully drew a tiny flower on his wrist, before returning her attention to Professor. It took him a while to find out what exactly she drew with so neat lines. It looked like an iris or daffodil, he couldn't tell exactly and she didn't know either. But after that she became flower. His flower.
And now George is sitting in the library. He came here to at least start an essay on Potions. Snape become ruthless lately, so it was easier to work in a group on this 5-page assignment about Golpalott's Third Law. That's how he, Y/N, Fred, and Lee ended up in the library. George knew that this was one of her favorite places at Hogwarts. Two and a half hours earlier, when they had passed Madam Pince's stern gaze, he almost unconsciously walked to her favorite table, between the Poetry and Reference sections.
George's re-reading the same sentence in the book for the seventh time. There's something about the idea that a whole product is greater than the sum of its parts, but he can't really understand its meaning because he's thinking about her. It would be more accurate to say that he's thinking about what Lee and Fred had said about her. The evening before, his twin, the only person in this world who was closer to George than Y/N, again claimed that his love was mutual. Fred constantly tried to push him to confess his feelings. His argumentation was always the same. Fred said that he’s older, which means wiser, and he sees everything, how she steals glances at his little shy brother in classes and how she blushes just as much when George is near. But that evening, Lee has added some new information, which George still tries to process and connects with everything else these two have been telling him through the years.
George returns to yesterday in his thoughts. He was lying on his bed again, hopelessly pressing his face into the soft fabric of the pillow, while these two opened the Pandora's box again. Sometimes it seemed to George that they were enjoying this ranting about his 'unrequited' love situation over and over again.
"Ok, look, if she felt nothing but platonic stuff, she'd not be this frustrated when she found out about you and Jane" Lee spoke in a devious voice, getting more comfortable on his bed.
"Wasn't it Jade?" Fred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Doesn't matter, I mean this Hufflepuff blondie with the ribbon"
"She's Janis" George sighed. He remembered this relationship, which lasted just over a month or so. Janis was nice, but she talked a bit too much. And this black ribbon, which she constantly wore as a headband, pissed him off. He admitted that the ribbon matched well with her uniform and emphasized the brightness of her hair. But something was wrong with it.
"I thought she was Jade"
"Anyway, why are you telling me about this now?" curiosity and a slight note of annoyance were noticeable in George's voice "It was quite a long ago."
"Look, mate. I'm your friend, right?" Lee sat down, crossed his legs, and the blanket crumpled under his weight. One more movement and the red piece of cloth would end up on the floor. "But I'm her friend as well. She knows that I know. And knows that I overheard that conversation of hers. And I promised, I won't blab it to you…But as it turns out, I'm not the best secret keeper and I'm more of a friend to you than to Y/N"
To tell the truth, Lee was a great secret keeper. Just like he was a great friend. This made George seriously wonder why Lee broke the promise. And so unceremoniously 'blabbed' everything to him. What if he's really as blind as he was told and doesn't see obvious things. He doesn't deny the possibility that she liked him too. More precisely, he doesn't want to deny it. He hopes that Y/N also feels something that crosses the boundaries of friendship. Even if her feelings aren't as strong and all-consuming as his. As if time collapses into one tiny speck and explodes at light speed every time George sees her. He hopes for at least something, for at least a tiny feeling, a tiny sparkle in her heart that flares up at the sight of the tall redhead.
Many times he imagined and replayed in his head the moment he would confess his feelings. Tell her how all the sounds around become quiet when he hears her laugh, how each and every touch imprints and burns on his skin. He dreamed, how he would tell how much he loved her, that he could finally be honest and reveal everything that was in his head and heart.
But the younger twin thinks the stakes are too high. And maybe he's right because she thinks the same thing to herself. Even though George wants more, he doesn't want to risk everything he has right now. His eyes begin to water and a lump rises in his throat every time he assumes he could lose Y/N. His flower. He knows her too well to predict what would happen next if his feelings weren't mutual. Their communication will become awkward, they both will be cautious and afraid of saying or doing something wrong. And then, after some time of this weird communication, their connection will fade away. And even if his love is mutual, what if he and Y/N don’t work out as a couple? What then?
He can't let their previous and future years of friendship go down the drain. Y/N was the first person he and Fred met on the Hogwarts Express. And from the very first year and the very first greeting, the three of them became inseparable. Always together.
She wanted to be a prefect, so she avoided detentions and tried not to get involved in their pranks directly. But Y/N was always there, helped to plan each of their mischiefs, assisted with new inventions, and saved him and his brother from professors. George can't remember how many times she rescued them from Filch while she was patrolling the corridors. He was so proud of her last year when she finally received this little silver pin that gave her extra authority and responsibilities.
George can't imagine Christmas without Y/N now. She visits the Burrow every year and his mom adores her. Perhaps because Y/N helps with cooking more than anyone else in this house. But George can imagine in detail how hard his mother would scold him if he suddenly announce that Y/N won't come for winter break this year because he's an idiot and they stopped talking to each other.
It's not Christmas without having a snowball fight with her and Fred in the backyard. At some point, she always tries to throw Fred into the snow. But due to the obvious height difference and Fred's strength privilege, she never succeeds in this. So she's becoming the one who's giggling on the ground, covered with snow. George always laughs at this little performance while his very kind twin scatters her down with even more snow.
George's envious of his brother in some way. Fred has never seen Y/N as more than a friend or a second sister. He's envious that his twin's heart doesn't ache as much as his does. And his older brother doesn't have to make such a difficult decision. No, George doesn't wish his brother pain. No way. He just doesn't want to suffer himself. George understands, that he's not just at risk of losing her, but also at risk of depriving Fred of his best friend too. If he and Y/N don't work out, what will happen to her friendship with Fred? Yes, perhaps they will be able to maintain some thread of communication. But they certainly won’t be best friends like they are now. George wouldn't handle it. He believes that it's better to be content with the small moments he has than to lose everything.
"Where are you going?" Fred's question snaps the younger twin out of his thoughts. He's still in the library and didn’t even notice how the chair next to him became empty, as Y/N headed towards one of the sections.
“I need this book, about…” her words meet Fred's raised eyebrows "I just need another book"
A quiet “uh-huh,” sounds either from Fred or Lee as her back is already hidden between the shelves full of colorful covers.
George looks for a while longer after Y/N. If someone raised their head from studies or books and glanced at the redhead, they would see the gears turning in his head.
“I…” George moves away from the table. Legs of the chair slide across the floor with a quiet rustle. He tries to come up with some kind of a reason, but Lee is faster.
“We got it, loverboy in shining armor, go already and help your princess” In response George groanes, and a quiet "fuck off" slips from his lips as he heads after his 'princess'. He doesn't know why he decided to follow Y/N. He just wants to. Perhaps he simply feels calmer when she's around, she gives him a feeling of warmth and home just by being near.
And there she is, just three bookshelves away. George can understand why she likes spending time in the library, although he doesn't share this sympathy. It's quiet and peaceful here. High ceilings, impressive columns, and alive stained glass windows are throughout Hogwarts, but they look especially charming in this place. Perhaps it's the specific lighting or the huge number of cabinets filled with old parchment and colored bindings. And, to be honest, he likes the smell of books. There is something about that scent that the redhead can't explain.
Y/N walks along the shelf at the end of the bookrack. Her gaze runs along the top row of colored spines, searching for what she needs. Her hair is up in a messy, almost domestic, bun and secured with a wand. But some strands fell down, framing her face and descending down her neck. The tie hangs loosely around her neck. She undid it after half an hour in the library.
George just stands there and admires her for a while, unable to tear his gaze away. It seems to him as if a soft golden glow surrounds each curve of her glorious body. And this light calls him to come closer. None of the other girls looked like her in his eyes. He swallows, breaks out of this perfect trance, and quietly heads to her.
The girl stands on the very tips of her black shiny shoes. Her fingers almost touch that very book on the top shelf. "Why the hell do they always shove the most useful stuff so far away?" Y/N thinks to herself before long fingers touch the cover of the "Ingredient Encyclopedia". She sees as right above her head a familiar freckled hand takes the faded green binding from its place.
"You're welcome, flower" Y/N turns around at the sound of the voice and finds herself trapped between the worn books and George.
The corners of his lips lift slightly and the younger twin can feel the warmth approaching his cheeks. He can't control it and, to be honest, he doesn't care when she's only millimeters away.
Her "Thank you" is so quiet that George isn't sure she actually said it. Their eyes meet, and it seems to redhead that everything that happened next was in slow motion.
She just wanted to take the book. Such an innocent action. She inhales sharply as her fingertips accidentally brush his hand. He feels high-voltage sparks come from this touch and spread further throughout his whole body and explode where his heart is.
They both froze, not breathing and not breaking an eye contact. George could swear he was ready to give everything he had to live in this moment forever. Just standing next to her in an empty section of the Hogwarts library. Looking into her eyes, losing himself in their depths. And feel the warmth radiating from her hand on his.
Earlier, he thought he'd be nervous at a moment like this but he isn't. He just stares at her eyes, then at her parted lips. "George, don’t do it" he repeats to himself. His fingers shudder imperceptibly with the thought of taking her wand from messy hair, so her locks would fall freely on her fragile shoulders. "Control yourself". He's trying, so damn hard trying not to bury his hands into these shiny strands and pull her into a kiss. It takes all his strength not to. And George doesn't know what happened. Was it Y/N's rosy blush and his brother's words about mutuality flashing through his head. Was it her, standing so close that he could smell his amortentia coming from the girl.
But he gives up. George bends down, without even thinking about it, and presses his lips to hers
George pulls away even faster than he has leaned toward her. There is exposed fear in his widely opened eyes. Eyebrows are raised as the realization crushes his thoughts. His mouth opens and closes without making any sound. It seems that he's more shocked by his own action than Y/N herself.
He fucked up. He knows it.
Y\N stands there still. And this is the first time in the redhead's life that he can't read the emotions of his best friend. "Ingredient Encyclopedia" is still in her palm, but George abruptly pulls his hand away, losing all the warmth she provided to him.
"I'm…I'm sorry" is the only thing he mumbles before storming away from the book section, from the library, from her.
George almost knocks down a first-year with a blue tie when he rushes out around the corner. He fucked up. Y/N didn’t respond to his kiss, she didn’t react at all. She just froze in place. George doesn't understand how he could let himself do this. He shouldn't have. He heads towards the huge wooden door with such speed that some students' parchments fly off their desks. He doesn't notice this, nor the questions from Fred and Lee, that meet his broad back, nor the comments of the furious Madam Pince.
She appears around the corner shortly after George, calling his name. She throws the book on the table and quickly walks past her friends. The faded green binding slides across the wooden surface and lands near Lee's inkpot. Another millimeter and the small glass jar would have been knocked down and poured a black liquid onto the pieces of parchment, only half written with essay.
"For Merlin's sake, what is going on?"
“I'll bet you a galleon that George confessed to her and ran away” Fred speaks with a sly grin, shifting his gaze from the hurrying Y/N to his dormmate.
"Too much drama for these two, don't you think?"
"So…?"
"You're on" Lee agrees, moving the book away from his writings. He only managed to write the introduction and the beginning of the first few theses. It was far from 5 pages but it was at least something and definitely more than George wrote.
George walks through the library entrance. He feels like everything is crumbling inside him as he walks. The sound of his heart pounding in the ears muffles the voice calling his name somewhere behind the back.
"George!…"
He is supposed to be happy. He finally did what he had dreamed of for many years. He finally kissed the girl he was so hopelessly in love with. But instead, he feels as if a dozen Dementors attacked him. All of the hope and happiness have been sucked out of the world.
"George!…"
He'd better get away from here as fast as possible. He'd explain himself later. He'd better get to his safe space. But where should he go if he felt safe only next to her?
"George!….for Merlin's sake!….. I can't keep up with you!"
He recalls everything in his head, from what happened a minute ago to the first time he saw Y\N. He understands that all those happy moments, the tenderness, the memories they both made and the plans for the future, are all gone. He's so disappointed and so angry with himself.
"George!…"
"What?!" He stops and turns around, seeing the girl almost running along the empty corridor of Hogwarts, approaching him.
George heard her calling him. But he's not ready to face the consequences. Not now. He needs time to pull himself back together and come up with something. But he gives up. Again.
"What do you wanna hear, Y|N?!" His hands shoot up in a questioning gesture. "That I'm head over heels in love with you? With your damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes! With your damn angelic laughter, which drowns out all other sounds for me! And I even with the way your brows frown when you're concentrated!"
"Georgie…" He doesn't seem to notice her soft voice but continues. She wants to say something, but his confession is unstoppable. And she understands this, so she decides to just let him rant.
"Or do you wanna hear that you became a fixed point in my mind where my thoughts always come back to? That I randomly grin to myself like an idiot when I think about anything related to you. I don't know when exactly I fell for you. But it feels like I've always loved you. You're doing something to me, no one else ever could. You make me feel special and not just another poor Weasley or the second clown of Hogwarts. Every damn time you make me feel important because of who I am and not because I'm the beater or I'm the easiest way to get to Fred." His voice became calmer with each sentence. The irritated raised tone turns into his normal deep timbre, and then it will turn into a soft mumbling. " And you make all of my anxiety and worries turn off just by your presence. I was so fucking angry with myself and you did something I dunno how to explain. So now I can't be this angry. And you are…you are just….you"
She stands next to him. Almost as close as it was back then in the library. Perhaps if George wasn't so nervous, he'd realize that he liked the scent of books because it was her scent. Every time she left the library after spending several hours there, she had this slightest scent on her. It mixed with her perfume and shampoo, so it was impossible to separate and difficult to notice it.
"Are you done?" George doesn't know what to do and just nods his ginger head. Then she rises on her tiptoes and neat fingers finds the collar of his white shirt and pulls it towards her, forcing George to lean forward. Her lips touch his. Again. Only for a few seconds but this makes him blush even more, if it's possible. His freckles aren't this noticeable anymore.
The girl pulls away, the heels of her shoes meet the cold floor and her hands slide onto George's chest. But he continues to stand slightly bent forward, batting his eyelashes. She still has to lift her head slightly to look him in the eyes. In the future, this height difference will piss her off sometimes, but he'll enjoy it endlessly, liking this even more every time.
George stares deeply into her eyes, trying to understand what just happened. But he feels that he can breathe again. And somewhere inside, where his soul is, irises and daffodils and all the other flowers start to blossom slowly. Did she really kiss him? But earlier…
"But you've…." His eyebrows furrow as the puzzles are slowly coming together in his head.
"I was taken by surprise" She explains as she watches his face soften, lips rise into a wide grin that he can't stop. And why the hell should he stop it. "And you didn't give me time to understand what's going on"
George covers her hand with his own. That hand that's laying so peacefully on his rapidly beating heart.
“Sorry,” he chuckles, millimeters from her face. She can feel his breath on her lips, like a ghost kiss, dragging the moment before he crushes his lips down on hers into another real one.
Her lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against his own. This kiss is not just a peck, like the previous ones. This time George can understand that her lips are not exactly what he thought. Her lips feel thousands of times better than he could ever imagine. He finally feels relieve and all the world's happiness. All the happiness he supposed to feel. Happiness, that had been accumulating for a long time and didn't leave the palace of his dreams, Finally to escape to freedom. His palms find their place around her waist as he pulls her closer, forcing their bodies to collapse into each other, holding each other as tightly as humanly possible. Her hands shoot up to his hair, slowly letting her fingers slip into ginger strands. He kisses Y/N like he has never kissed anyone else before. With all the tenderness and love he has kept locked in his heart till this moment. George doesn’t see this, but he feels how the gray world around him is filled with colors again. The warmth spreads all over his body and his brain stops working properly.
This girl, this bright and breathtaking girl, is his. Their lips moved softly, delicately, and almost innocently before. But Y/N is driving him insane and intoxicate him with the sweet smell of her body. He can feel her hand slide to his nape and she lightly runs fingers up along his neck. Tiny soft moans escape his lips in the surprise of the goosebumps this action sent down his body. As a response, George brings up his freckled hands to cup her face. His calloused fingers caress her flushed cheeks as he nibbles her lower lip, not so hard to hurt, but enough for Y/N to feel it. Now it's her turn to let out a small, barely audible moan, which makes him break out into a shit-eating grin.
The girl gently pulls away, while George still holds her face in his warm hands.
"I love you too, Georgie. And your damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes"
Bonus:
He lets out a giggle caused by quoting. He's unable to open his eyes for a few moments after this kiss, a huge smile on his face
"But…"
"But…?" The question sounds teasing even though his voice is hoarse.
"We have an essay to finish. It's due tomorrow, and you haven't even written a sentence yet." she wrinkles her nose in a taunting way.
"Nooooo" Redhead lets out a groan, throwing his head back. "Don't make me do this, Flower"
"I won't write it for you" She kisses his pouty lips as a response to the puppy gaze he gave her. Y/N frees herself from his cozy grip and heads towards the library. "You'd better write at least something unless you prefer scrubbing cauldron instead of…let's say…sneaking into Hogsmeade."
George catches up with her a couple of seconds later. He slightly leans down just for a moment to catch her hand in his and intertwine their fingers.
"Y/N…." he tries this 'puppy gaze trick' again.
"Fine." She sighs in defeat "I will help you with a plan and theses, but you will write it yourself."
George breaks into a smile once again and brings her hand to his lips, leaving kisses on her knuckles. Well, the thesis for Someone's Third Law is at least something. Plus, he’s sure that he’s sure Y/N will write his essay as soon as she finishes hers. And, to be honest, Fred's too.
After some time, when they are a meter from the huge wooden door, George suddenly wonders.
"Galleons or Sickles?"
"What?"
"Galleons or Sickles?" He repeats, opening the door in front of Y/N
"Wait, you're wondering how much they bet on us, aren't you?"
George overtakes the girl, ending up in front of her, and leans down so that their eyes are at the same level. He shoves his hands into pockets and wrinkles his nose therefore mocking Y/N's previous actions.
"I'll bet a Galleon that Lee owes Fred a Galleon"
masterpost
#george weasley#george weasley x reader#george weasley headcanon#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley smut#george weasley x fem#george weasley x slytherin!reader#george weasley x you#george weasley x y/n#george weasley fluff#george weasley fic#george weasley angst#the weasley twins#weasley twins#weasley twins x reader#weasley twins smut#harry potter fanfiction
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fell in love without you
MINORS DNI 18+
NOTES: everyone’s nineteen.
WARNINGS: f!reader | you have a favorite twin | sexual content with said fave twin | dubcon kiss
FRED WEASLEY stands before you alongside his brother George. A seemingly world famous smug air about them, having charmed themselves by their own wit. Arms crossed, towering tall above the random passersby as they absentmindedly drone to their next class. Your hesitation spurs the twins on, exchanging a knowing and triumphant glance that says all as you tilt your head at them.
“Are you serious?”
One twin feigns offense. “Deadly serious.”
The other mimics him. “Gravely.”
“S’only fair, innit?”
“Game of guess the twin, guess wrong and you’ve got to give a kiss.” he repeats the game rules.
“For hurtin’ our feelin’s.” the other agrees.
You narrow your eyes with a huff through your nose. “You haven’t got any feelings. Now let me pass.” you demand, and attempt to cut through them but they’re connected at the shoulders to block your way from your corridor.
“Now that’s what you win if you guess right!” they say together. Did they rehearse this? You frown at them as you recoil, throwing your arm out to your side until your book pats the outside of your thigh.
“What? You scared? We both know you’ve got a little thing for me.” One shrugs.
“And me.” the other adds.
“We’re only helping you along.” they speak at the same time, in annoying twin-synchrony.
You give in. “Do you really think I can’t tell you apart?” Lazily, you point to the boy on the left. “Fred.” It transfers over to the boy on the right. “George.” They exchange another look amongst themselves, and adopt a crestfallen expression as their heads bow, stepping apart so you can enter. “See?” you taunt, passing them by. “Was that so hard? I’ll see you boys later—“
“Not so fast there, birdie.” You halt in your tracks at the sound of him speak. “I’m George.” You sigh hard and hang your head.
“I’m Fred. C’mon then, give us a kiss.” They’d faked you out, or they’re lying. Either way, you concede in order to satiate their egos, drawing back to the place where they wait for you. It’s only a kiss on the cheek anyway, and besides it wouldn’t reveal your true feelings towards your favored twin. You’re just friends, and that’s how it should stay. “Tha’s a good girl. Look at her comin’ back, George. She wants this just as much as we do.”
“A foolproof plan there, Fred, well done.”
“It’s practically your only pick-up line, boys. You could do far better.” you tease, and drop your satchel to the ground where it flops flat hopelessly, and toss your book to land onto the leather. “C’mon then, lean down.” They’re both much taller than you, sort of imposing if they weren’t so approachable when they wanted to be. George goes first, stooping to offer his cheek to you. Sweetly, you hook your arm around his neck for stability when you raise yourself to your toes, planting a chaste peck onto his cheek. His skin warms your nose, and he recedes as you do. When you meet Fred’s gaze, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you, and you feel yourself heat up in anticipation. He does as George did, stooping but it’s a little gentler, dragging it out. There���s a mischievous curl to his lips and you sense he plots something. So you idle while you figure him out, until he interrupts you.
“Oi, wha’s wrong with you? Go on, pay up.” and you snap out of it, doing as you did with George. Your arm hooks loose around his neck, hand splayed on the cuff of his shoulder. While you raise yourself to meet his cheek, the tips of your toes bearing your weight, and things seem to move in slow motion. An arm straps around your waist, arching you into him as he turns at the last second, drawing you into a kiss. A real one. You emit a noise of surprise as he deepens it, seizing the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips during your squeak. Out of shock, you take a fair bit of time to register, eyes flying open as you pat hard against his chest. You can’t push him off, but he pulls back after he’s made his point.
Hastily, you adjust your uniform with a gaping mouth. “Fred!” you scold while they snicker, you took notice of how George averted his eyes beforehand, so he’d known of Fred’s trick. Perhaps Fred put him up to it. Some innocent game that allows Fred an in to make a proper move on you. Or some sort of malicious advantage over your feelings. Out of embarrassment or fury, your hands pat hard on each of them, banging your fists against whatever is within reach as their laughs feather out when they flinch and try to catch your hands. When they escape, and you realize you’re desperately tardy, you have to let them go, calling out your vow of revenge after them.
“Where’s that vow of revenge now, ey?” breathless words spoken into your ear as Fred ruts into you. Hidden under the hot covers of your bed, he keeps you close with strong arms encasing you, pressing you to him as you lay on your sides. You claw the sheets for purchase, clutching onto the fabric to keep yourself grounded as he moves inside you. Careful, gentle, deliberate. Everyone’s sleeping. If anyone found out a boy snuck into your girls’ dormitory you’d be toast. His breath sends tingles up your spine, squeezing your eyes shut in the dark as you focus on where your bodies conjoin. Sticky and wet, Fred sheathes fully with a buck of his hips, and involuntarily you whimper. A large hand cups your mouth to silence you. “Keep quiet,” he whispers and you nod against him. “Didn’t take you for a bad girl, birdie, you’re a proper troublemaker.” he tells you, barely audible, his lips moving against your ear as his hips circle, welcomed by your sex, he can’t help but soak a second. “You wanna get caught, don’t you?”
You can’t answer, shaking your head against his hand and you feel his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Is that right?” he goads, unconvinced. He shifts, gradually picking up a steady pace. “Should we give ‘em a real show then?”
#1k#indy: drabbles#ch: fred#fred weasley drabble#weasley twins x reader#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x you#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley smut#fred weasley x y/n#weasley twins imagines#george weasley x reader#george weasley x you#george weasley imagine#george weasley x y/n#fred weasley x fem!reader#george weasley x fem!reader#golden trio era#fred weasley headcanons#george weasley headcanon#golden trio x reader#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley fic#fred weasley fluff#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley fic
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MUM?
Pairings: single-dad!George Weasley x Fem!reader
Summary: George hired you to babysit his daughter while he works, what if she calls you mum on accident in front of George
Warnings: none I don't think
NOTE: tell me if you want a part 2, because i would be down to do another one
PART 2
you've been babysitting George's little girl for about 5 months now for some extra cash and you couldn't help but notice she was a little angel that was just like her father
you had gone to school with George but you weren't in the same group, you were friendly but never really talked, so you were surprised when he remembered you when you came in for him to hire you.
he had called you in today because it was busy with the holiday coming up and you said yes.
so that's why you were in his lounge room, his little girl Chelsea on your lap with her stuffed toy as he spoke to you about what to do for the day until he gets off work
"and you can go out to the little café down the street for lunch, I don't really mind and yeah," he nodded his head, going off the list
"do you want her to bed at any particular hour?" you asked him
"no bed!" she yelled, playing with the stuffed bunny's ear
"you know what? it's the weekend, I can put her to bed after you leave" he replied
"alright, you good up here?" he cleared his throat
you nodded you head and watched as he leaned down to place a kiss onto Chelsea's head
"I'll see you both later" he smiled before going downstairs to the shop
you admired George for what he's doing for him and his family
after Fred's death he was left alone here and then his girlfriend dumped their baby on him and left, breaking up with him and tearing his life up even more
he's been left to provide for him and his little girl for 5 years now and after everything he can still put on a smile.
you felt bad for him and Chelsea, they didn't deserve any of that and you couldn't imagine how anybody would want to willingly abandon them.
"what do you want to do first, Chels?" you asked, lifting her off your lap
she struggled as she got off the couch before taking your hand in her small one, she took a few steps back and walked to her bedroom, you slouched down as you followed her
"sit" she said to you
you went over to her bed and sat down as she rummaged through her toy box
she turned back to you with a teddy bear in her hand and frowned
"not there" she whined before pointing the the ground on the purple and blue rug
"sit there" she demanded
you smiled and got off her bed, taking a seat where she pointed while she took a seat in front of you
"I'll be bunny" she started before handing you the bear "and you be mister fuzzy"
you took the bear and smiled at her before she began talking with a different voice, impersonating bunny
-
"what do you want to eat, Chels?" you asked her, looking at the menu of the little café George told you about
"pancakes!" she beamed, bunny in her hands
"sweetheart they don't have that" you looked down at her in her seat
"but daddy said they do" she frowned
"well it might be on the breakfast menu, is there anything you want that they have on here for lunch?" you questioned
she sighed and pouted
"fine" she crossed her arms
you read out what they have and she made her decision and got the chicken nuggets with chips
"what did you get?" she asked, shifting in her seat
you told her what you gotten and she hummed in response
"Y/n? do you like my daddy?" she asked you, giving you bunny as her milkshake came to the table
you smiled at the waitress and looked back down at Chelsea
"your dad is very nice" you blinked
"but do you like him?" she furrowed her eyebrows cutely
"sure" you replied shortly
"do you love him?"
"I barely know him" you laughed it off
"but daddy says-" she started
"-I don't think you should tell me what daddy said" you cut her off, thanking the waitress who put down your drink in front of you
"but-" she tried again but you handed her her milkshake
"how about you try your shake?" you smile when she took a sip
you and Chelsea talked about things and you told her a story of when her dad had pranked you in school that made her laugh and say her dad was mean, you decided to leave out Fred in case that made her sad or George hadn't told her of him, but you doubted he would do that
"can we go now, I wanna draw" she whined, swinging her feet
you had finished your food and had to pretend to eat hers for her to finish her plate
"alright alright, c'mon" you moved to get up from the booth and got her up
"I don't wanna walk" she cried
you slung your bag on your shoulder and picked her up and went to the counter to pay
you walked back to the shop with her in your arms
you entered the shop and saw George at the counter ringing up the products.
"there you guys are! have fun?" George smiled as he saw Chelsea. the shop wasn't rushed as it was when you left, so he had time for a light conversation
Chelsea grinned and reached for George
you passed her over and he groaned dramatically as he lifted her up
"daddy! I had chicken nuggets!" she smiled
"of course you did, you love them" he kissed her cheek, making her giggle
"what are you guys gonna do now?" he asked, looking at you and smiling
"I'm gonna draw!" Chelsea spoke excitedly
"ooh, what are you going to draw, sweetheart?" he rocked her side to side
Chelsea thought for a second before answering george
"a unicorn"
"well you better go and get to it!" he put her down on the ground and she ran up the stairs, being careful not to trip as he kept you there with him
"any problems?" he turned to you and raised his eyebrows
you wondered if you should tell him about what Chelsea was going on about, about what he apparently said for her to ask if you love him. but you didn't want to make anything awkward and end up getting fired
"no, there's never any problems with her" you shrugged
he shook his head amused by what you said
"what?" you chuckled, confused by what he was laughing at
"what do you that makes her behave like an angel?" he quizzed
"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm not doing anything?" you tilted your head
"the past babysitters said she was horrible, that she was awful and behaved badly, I'm just trying to understand why she's being so nice to you" he snickered
"well that doesn't seem like her, speaking of, I should probably go make sure she hasn't hurt herself getting up all those stairs" you frowned
"right, yeah, you go" he responded quickly, watching you as you rushed up the stairs to follow her, calling her name
-
"do you like it?" Chelsea asked as she picked her drawing up
you looked over at her and smiled at the art she made
"it's amazing, Chels! who are they?" you beamed as you pointed to the people to the side of the unicorn that you would see in a typical children muggle book
"well that's me" she pointed to the short girl in the far right
"then that's you and Daddy" she said as she motioned to the other two
you laughed it off and she went back to draw something else
"Chelsea?" you turned to her, she looked up and smiled brightly with teeth
"why are you so nice to me? I heard you didn't like the other babysitters you had before" you interrogated her
"becuase you're nice" she kicked her feet back and forth as she layed on her stomach
"is that it?" you raised your brows
"because daddy said you were nice" she replied
you sat up and watched her "when did he say that?"
"he says it a lot, he talks about you almost everyday" she giggled
you smiled and went back to scribbling on a piece of paper
"I'm bored" she sat up and let go of her crayons
"well what do you want to do?" you blinked
"can we bake something!" she stood up and started putting her things up, cleaning without having to ask her to do it
"are we allowed to?" you asked as you watched her
"daddy said we could do anything, and we did it like, last week" she huffed, taking your hand, waiting for you to get up
"alright then"
-
"crack the egg" you instructed, holding the bowl with one hand as you passed her an egg. she was sat on the counter with a little chef hat that she insisted on wearing
she banged the egg on the bowl and let the egg oose out of the shell, before putting it to the side
you picked out some of the shell and passed her the second egg, letting her crack the other one.
"alright, do you know what to do next?" you quizzed
"beat it" she answered
you got the mixer and did it yourself, her watching in anticipation
you kept mixing around the bowl until it looked good
you gave her the chocolate chunks and let her pour them in as you folded it in.
"alright, let's get you down" you let go of the bowl and picked her up and put her down on the ground, getting the tray ready
you scooped the cookie batter onto the tray and put it in the oven
"when will they be ready?!" Chelsea jumped up and down
"they won't take too long, but you have to wait until after dinner to eat them" you responded before hearing the door open
"I'm home" you heard George call
"daddy!" Chelsea yelled as she ran to him, jumping in his open arms
it was the usual time he closed the shop but you hadn't realised the time until now.
you smiled as you watched them
"what are you guys doing?" he grinned and he put her down
"me and mummy are making cookies!" she giggled as she went over to you.
your smile faded away and George's face turned beet red
your mouth hung open as you avoided George's gaze that was stuck on you
"honey, um-" George cleared his throat, he bent down to her level and looked at her
"what did you call Y/n?" he blinked
"mummy?" she mumbled, not knowing if she was in trouble or not
George kissed her cheek and whispered something into her ear, she apologised before running to her room
George stood up and looked at you awkwardly
"I'm sorry, that's never happened before" he sighed
you stayed silent for a moment, not knowing what to say
"I think she's just overwhelmed by the amount of time she spends with you, she might've gotten confused or just looks up to you and sees you as a mother figure. this is the longest that any babysitter has lasted so." he finished
"it's fine" you murmured, still a little shocked
"to be honest I'm glad she chose you to be her mother figure but if that makes you uncomfortable then i'll make sure it won't happen again" he smiled slightly, looking a little relieved
"it's ok, I wouldn't blame her, I think she's just confused too" you nodded vigorously
"do you want to um- would you want to stay for dinner? maybe" he asked
"if not, maybe with me, sometime?" he asked again before you answered
"are you.." you paused, once again, shocked "asking me out?"
"I mean, only if you say yes, and if I didn't just make a fool out of myself. I did didn't I? I'm sorry, forget I said any of that, it's been a while since I've-" he rambled
you'd be an idiot to turn him down, he was an attractive and funny guy, and a wonderful father.
"-I'd love that" you cut him off
"you'd love to go on a date with me? or both? I mean after seeing you with Chelsea I think I really like you- like is such a childish word isn't it? but i've grown some feelings for you and I hope you could reciprocate them" he gabbled
"I do" you smiled nervously
he stopped and looked at you for a moment, his face flushed and his smile faded before it came back again sheepishly
"great"
----------------------------------------------------
#george weasley x fem#george wealsey x reader#george weasley#oliver phelps#harry potter imagines#imagines#oneshot#cute#fluff#fred and george#x fem!reader#weasley twins#george weasley imagine
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Fred Weasley as a boyfriend 💥🦁
⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙
Warnings ⚠️: Slight mentioned of sexual themes and some spicy stuff.
Dating this troublemaker yet funnier and sexy twin could include:
👨🏻🦰🪦🧹
He's very affectionate in a playful kind of way, for example, he can pick you up like a ragdoll and would playfully threaten to throw you in the black lake, tackle hugs, rest his chin right on top of your head because he's built like a tree, smacks your ass, pinch your cheeks and harmless prank here and there to make you laugh.
He's lowkey the jealous type but plays it off well and hides it away from you because if you caught him jealous he knows you'll never drop it.
Still flirts and tease you like you guys aren't already dating. Sending a wink and smile your way and whispering dirty yet clever pickup lines all the time to see you blush.
Him being lowkey a bad influence on you by taking you along and breaking the school rules to pull pranks, but somehow the best memories that the two of you have together are of breaking rules and being silly teenagers together.
Pulling faces, sending notes, hitting you with paper balls at you during classes to get your attention if he isn't sitting next to you, because if there's anything that Fred loves most it's your attention.
You guys have a deal, he teaches you how to juggle, cartwheel and cast cool spells in return for you helping him with his school work.
He loves PDA and is not ashamed of it and would pull it anywhere he could, in some occasions he's gotten told to keep his hand off you just for an hour until class ends by numerous different professors.
The both of you have a special place where you're able to just hold each other and snog whenever you feel like it, so to mark the place Fred carved both of your initials inside of a big heart on a nearby tree by that spot so everyone knows who this place belongs to.
Stealing all of his knitted sweaters and hoodies because they're much larger on you, but then he asks Molly to make one for you this Christmas with your initial on it and you got super excited that you wear it every day for a month.
Likes when you call him Freddie, Baby, Good-looking, Spitfire, or Casanova (you call him that before the both of you started dating and still use it at times).
He calls you cute nicknames like Baby, Lover-Girl, Sexy, or Sunshine.
His love language is probably quality time because spending time with you and making memories with you is what he cherishes most.
He stares at you all the time and can't keep his eyes off you, one time he full-on ditched his school work and was looking at you focusing on your own thing while he plays with your ponytail the entire time.
Molly adores you because of how much the both of you bonded through food, she teaches you how to make Fred's favorite meal and she encourages you to stay over at the burrow as much as possible because to be honest, she likes how Fred is when you're around and Molly may or may not like you more than Fred.
Asks for messages after a rough Quidditch practice or games that usually elevate to something more... a.k.a sex.
He asks for your opinion on the joke shop products he and George have come up with but doesn't dare make you try them because he doesn't want to see you hurt or be embarrassed.
Dance party inside his shared dorm room with snacks when everyone is away and blaring out his phonograph with the weird sister's newest record player album.
Him sneaking into your shared dorm room quietly and frequently because he wants to sleep with you and not in his own bed, so it's not unusual for your roommates to see a shirtless Fred cuddling you in the morning.
Joking and confusing new people who don’t understand your relationship; Are you dating? Enemies? Friends? (but in the end, he can't keep his hands off you anyways so they're bound to know)
Him leaving all of his classes early just so he can meet you outside and escort you to your next class so he can have those extra moments with you.
Taglist:
@igncrantbliss @milivanili99 @thatdummy-girl
#fred wealsey fic#fred weasly x reader#fred weasley#fred x reader#fred weasely x y/n#hogwarts#wizarding world#weasley twins#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fandom#harry potter series#harry potter imagine#fluff#romantic#imagine#one shot#gryffindor#the weasleys#headcanon#hp headcanon
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Second Son (Epilogue) | Regulus Black
Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.
— Chapter Synopsis: The new era. The end of one chapter, and the beginning of another.
Part XIX / Series Masterlist
Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader
Notes: Thank you all so much.
You peer out of the fenestrated walls, eyes glazing over the faint swinging of wooden signs and veranda covers. The ambience around you swirls like a sheer veil as you lean back into your seat, sighing out blissfully as your cooling charm beats with fervor, shielding you from the blistering heat of the summer day.
Dragging your eyes away from the bright view, you run your finger along the thick cardstock in front of you. The blocky letters begin to fade into the background of snowy mountain caps and faded waterfalls as you continue to trace your eyes over it.
‘Greetings from OREGON’
You flip the postcard over and swipe a finger across the swirly letters.
‘Hope you’re well, kid. - A. Fiske’
A sudden thudding noise echoes across from you, and you slowly shift to sit straight as your eyes drag themselves away from the letters. You tilt your head with a coy smile as your companion leans back to get comfortable, evidently miffed by the unrelenting heat waves.
“Good to see you, B.” You smile saccharinely, fingers dancing along the chilled cup in front of you.
Blaise rolls his eyes and places his own drink down on the table—iced americano, simple, bitter, and everything that Blaise wasn’t. You would never understand his fascination with the drink. He huffs before smiling sarcastically at you, “Yes, how long has it been? Two days?”
“Don’t whine, it’s unbecoming.” You mutter playfully, twirling your straw around the rim of your cup.
“Merlin, you’re even starting to sound like her. Really, no wonder mother finds you so endearing.” He tuts as he throws his elbow back to rest on the back of his chair.
You chuckle and shake your head, “Okay, let’s digress then.” You lean forward and cross your legs, “How is Draco doing? Theo is irritatingly uninformed on the topic.”
“He’s alright, thanks to you and Potter anyway. His father might not be facing a long sentence, but many of the elected Wizengamot heads are shifty even with your statements. Lucius Malfoy has been a slippery eel for a few years too long.” He hums, face unflinching as he sips on his potent drink, “How the mighty have fallen so.”
Nodding, your voice drops lower as you survey the rest of the cafe, “Azkaban will still do a number on him even with a lighter sentence. Narcissa is worried.”
“As she should be,” he replies curtly, “and speaking of Azkaban, how is Lord Black nowadays? He’s become quite the hermit. Is he faring well?”
You sigh and rub your chin, “Yeah, he’s just been busy with remodeling. He’s still quite miffed that Reggie and I decided to move out.”
“At least he has Potter with him.” Blaise supplies, eyes darkening in rumination at the mention of Regulus. He levels you with inquisitive eyes, “Before I forget, what should I send over?”
Furrowing your eyebrows, you hum, “How do you mean?”
“Your house warming gift, daft one.” He rolls his eyes lightly.
“Just bring your lovely self.” You huff out.
Blaise crosses an ankle over his knee, “A vase then.”
“If it clashes with the aesthetic then I’m tossing it into the basement.” You warn jokingly, smiling widely at your friend.
He shakes his head with a muffled chuckle, “No worries. Anyways, you still need to unpack, right? Need any help?”
“Oh? Work not keeping you busy enough?” You rest back against your chair, head bleeding with thoughts about how taxing work has been in the past few months with the Ministry trying to dial the reconstruction process to an inconceivable pace.
Blaise groans at the reminder, taking a long sip of his drink, “Merlin, they should rename the whole Department! Department of International Magical Cooperation? What a joke, all they do is sit in an oval and squabble.”
You throw your head back to laugh, a feathery light bubble of relief expanding in your chest. It was mind-boggling to think that not even a year ago you were all fighting for your lives, and now the same backdrop of fear that followed everyone around for so many years had disintegrated. People strided through halls and streets with lifted shoulders and bright eyes, war-hardened, but jovial as their burdens gave way.
Blaise had worked his way up the Department of International Magical Cooperation, often leaving meetings with a sharp migraine and dwindling hope in the frequency of common sense. Theodore was faring well, now a highly revered Unspeakable for the Time Branch, all made possible with his swift denouncement of his father. Draco was the more withdrawn one out of the three, but you held out hope for him, having corresponded with him over his budding fascination for Alchemy.
You found that your new friends were on your mind often, and you were endlessly grateful to them as they took Regulus’ reintegration into society with stride, often giving you advice on how to politely tell inquisitive reporters to bugger off. Meetings with them were slowly becoming a rarity as all of you became engrossed in work, but your friendships remained resolute as you all quickly became each other’s closest confidants.
Luna wrote to you often, and you sent her trinkets and snacks by the dozen, finding yourself constantly worried that others would mistreat the girl with the absence of your friend group. Luckily, the girl found a friend in Ginny, and you were looking forward to reuniting with her during her Summer Break.
Harry and Ron were inducted into the Auror ranks by Shacklebolt only a few weeks after the war. You had your reservations about their decision to jump into such a high-risk job, the stench of carnage and battle throbbing like an open wound, but they insisted that they would never be able to focus enough to finish school.
On the opposite side of that sentiment, there was Hermione. She had quickly delved back into Hogwarts’ curriculum amidst its reconstruction, and was now looking to you with hopeful words about beginning her own sabbatical.
You had published your research under both yours and Regulus’ name, omitting information about Regulus’ discovery of sentient portraits as a precaution for the future.
You both respected Anders’ wish to leave his name off the cover and the research, but he failed to warn you against leaving his name anywhere else, so simply on the first page of your book, you dedicated the findings to him and Asger with a simple ‘For A. & A. Fiske.’
The research was groundbreaking, to say the least. You wouldn’t be able to forget the swaths of letters and documents from the Ministry, and one very heated missive to you from Blaise about how he was even more swamped with work, many foreign countries reaching out to inquire about the findings.
It all paid off though, the royalties you and Regulus got would sustain you both for the rest of your humble lives, and the boost on your portfolio made getting a job in the Department of Mysteries a cakewalk.
Once the sun rolled across the cloudless sky, the singing blues morphing to hues of pinks and purples, you bid your friend goodbye, wishing him luck with work and promising to gather with the rest of your friends the following week.
You were certain that apparition was the most useful skill you had in your toolbelt, and you couldn’t fathom how you managed to survive the majority of your life without such a feat. As your shoes pad against the pavement, the bristling of leaves skidding around you, you let out a content sigh as you approach your destination.
It was the closest thing you had to home for so long, and it still felt like safety and comfort despite the sudden heaviness of your own house keys in your pocket. As you pop the door open, head peeking around the heavy wood, your face lights up as a figure comes into view.
“You’re home!” You exclaim excitedly, stepping inside with a wide grin.
Harry approaches you and gives you a fleeting hug, hand raising to adjust his glasses as he pulls back, “Yeah, Tonks let me off early. How was your meeting with Blaise?”
“Good,” you draw out suspiciously, eyes narrowing as you both pace through the dim walkway, “how’d you know about that?”
“Regulus.” He answers simply, eyebrows raising in tease as you huff.
You both cross into the threshold of the kitchen, stopping in your tracks as you see countless manuals splayed across the wide berth of the table. Regulus and Sirius are both hunched over in their seats, flipping furiously through the catalogues.
“Some light reading, Sirius?” Your voice rings out playfully, body already moving towards your squinting boyfriend. Both men shoot up from their positions and blink owlishly at you and Harry, the sea of papers long forgotten.
“Furniture shopping, pup!” Sirius replies with a tired grin as he stretches his arms over his head.
Regulus rises from his chair and meets you halfway, arms wrapping securely around your body as he burrows his face into the crook of your neck. A few more moments pass by before he cranes back and blinks slowly at you, “Birdie.”
You run a hand through his curls and smile lightly, “Love.”
Regulus keeps you secure to him as he moves to drop back down into his seat, leaning his head against your stomach as you remain standing. Your eyes drop down to look at the varying bleak images on the shining white pages.
Raising your eyebrows, your eyes drift around an image of a steep bookshelf with two glass doors, “Is this for us or Sirius?”
Sirius leans back in his seat and rubs the bridge of his nose, “Your place. Reggie helped me pick out a few pieces earlier.”
Your eyes wander around the aged cabinets and drabby wallpaper, trying to envision the space in a remodeled visual, one that would be Sirius-esque rather than screaming of cobwebs and medieval torture. You smile minutely before reaching a hand out across the table, bringing your other hand to card through Regulus’ hair as you mutter quietly to the tired man across from you, “I’m happy for you, Sirius.”
The man reciprocates your smile and clasps his hand in yours, “Thank you, pup. I’m happy for you too,” he huffs and glances at Regulus, who remained immobile against your stomach, “the both of you.”
The tender moment continues for a few more beats before Harry slowly leans on the seat next to Sirius’, eyes scrutinizing a forgotten pile of booklets off to the older man’s left, “Sirius, where are we going to put a lion table?”
You snort out a muffled laugh as the man swivels over to his godson with beaming eyes, knowing that Harry would be whining to you later about Sirius’ ineptitude at interior decorating.
“You should start cleaning up, Remus will be here soon for dinner.” You murmur with a pointed look at the trio.
As the final outlines of the sun slinks away in the horizon, you and Regulus bid farewell to the occupants of Grimmauld Place, intent on spending the rest of the night in your home. It was fortunate that Regulus had managed to set up the floo network to your home only a matter of days before, and the journey back left little room for complaints as the green flames dragged away from your vision.
You step out into the darkness of your study room, ears perking imperceptibly when the network flares again as Regulus joins you. The twilight sky filters into your home, dimly illuminating the barren room.
“We’re home.” You mutter with a content smile.
Regulus slowly pads towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he sways you both. Your eyes are drawn to the French casement windows behind the desk, getting lost in the sight of the dancing flower field.
“Shall we head to the cliff, birdie?” Regulus muses, eyes following your gaze as he drifts into rumination.
You nod and reluctantly step forward, pivoting on your heel and dropping a hand onto Regulus’ arm, “I’ll meet you at the front? I need to drop off a few things in the bedroom.”
“Of course, baby.” He leans over to capture your lips in a soft kiss, hands dropping to your hips as he lightly grips onto you.
Humming against his lips, you slowly pull back and rub a thumb across his cheek, “I’ll be quick, promise.”
He pecks your lips again and gives you one last squeeze before he slowly backs away, shooting you a warm smile as he makes his way to the entryway. You retreat from the study room soon after, making a sharp right turn as you pace towards your shared bedroom.
Regulus had been the one to bring up the idea of getting a beach house, assuring you that he was unsettled by still water and not turbulent waves. It was a quaint building, one that sprouted into the center of a lustrous flower garden, and you both knew it was the one when you toured it. Just a short walk away from the blooming fields, a precipitous cliffside broke away and loomed over a thick landing of sand, giving a small brief from the swaying waves
As you enter the lusterless room, you shed away your bag and walk towards your bedside table, propping the Oregon postcard against your lamp. Atop the same white bedside table sat Regulus’ old golden frame, now whole and without trace of ever having been shattered. Under the frame, the folded piece of paper that Regulus had given you the night after you bought the property peeked out.
You grasp both items in your hands, and smile lightly as an idea formulates in your head.
“Kreacher!” You call lightly.
The house-elf pops into the bedroom with a curious frown, teetering towards you as you extend the items out. You fish out your wand as Kreacher grabs the frame, muttering a faint engorgio at the rectangular object. The frame wobbles in the elf’s grasp before slowly stretching to nearly thrice its original size.
“Could you possibly frame this note for me? Maybe above the headboard?” You request with a small smile.
“Kreacher will do that.” The house elf nods and begins to fiddle with the frame.
Your eyes run across the note one more time before you hand the slip to the elf, making your way out to Regulus with a fleeting farewell. The boy has a jacket slung over his arm as he waits for you by the door, carding his hair back as a flicker of joy flashes through his eyes when you appear in his line of sight.
“All ready?” He murmurs once you reach him.
“More than ready.” You reply with a hum, leaning to peck his cheek.
The trek towards the cliffside passes by in the blink of an eye, and you’re left with butterflies in your stomach as Regulus picks several tulips for you along the way. By the time you’re close enough to the ocean to hear the crashing of waves, you are left to huddle close to Regulus for warmth.
The sky begins to darken above you, but you give no protest when Regulus drags you to sit down on the ground. He peers up at the sky above him, eyes tracing across the faint twinkles of the approaching stars.
You bring a hand to trace his chest as you do the same, cradling the flowers to your side as you begin to sift through the reel of memories in your head.
“I love you, birdie.” Regulus whispers into the air, his arm moving to rest on your waist.
You smile widely and press your face into the crook of his neck, “I love you.”
And as you both laid under the stitches of glowing stars, sharing tiny whispers and shielding each other from the brutal winds, back in your home, Kreacher makes the last adjustments to the new wall decor.
Kreacher mutely assesses the space as he backs out, the elf’s head full of future possibilities.
It was peaceful. After so many years, he felt at peace.
The door closes with a faint click just as the stars peek through the bedroom window, reflecting off the glowing frame. The swirls of inks encapsulated in the shining beams dance amongst the canvas of the wall.
‘29 October, 1979
I wonder what being in love feels like.
26 April, 1999
Love is like flying freely from the inhibitions of your burdens, where your person is your wings, your eyes, and your heart; you soar freely with the knowledge that they will carry you above the storms of doubt. I no longer wonder because now I know.’
Fin.
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#regulus black#regulus x reader#regulus black imagine#regulus black x reader#regulus black fluff#regulus black scenario#regulus black angst#regulus black imagines#regulus black series#regulus black deserved better#regulus black second son#harry potter series#harry potter#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfiction#the noble house of black#sirius black#hermione granger#ronald weasley#the weasley twins#luna lovegood#blaise zabini#draco malfoy#theodore nott
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You're in love
Pairing: Ron Weasley + fem!reader
Word count: 8502 (DAMN)
Summary: A (LONG) one shot inspired by Taylor Swift's song you're in love from 1989.
Warnings: none, I believe, but let me know.
hey, if you think this doesn't completely suck, check out my masterlist
The music was blasting loudly all over the room, they would’ve been scared to get caught if professor McGonogall wasn’t too happy herself. The room was dim, and the disco lights (that some muggleborn had conjured up) were the only light source available. Everyone was dancing, except for me, I was looking for someone.
The Quidditch team was surrounded by everyone, giving them pats on the back and telling them how good they played. We did play well today, after all we did win the cup, but no one patted me on the back because I was too busy, I was looking for someone.
I scan the room again from on top of one of the couches, I get a better view of the room from up here. The fifth years and above all had red cups in their hands, filled with alcohol, I could smell it. The people that were younger than fifteen had similar red cups except that they were filled with soda instead. I should’ve had one myself, but I was looking for someone.
“You did really well today.” Harry interrupts my search as he looks at me with a smile. I smile back and hop off the couch. I say, “We all played really well.”
“You scored a lot of goals.” He says, and I shrug my shoulders at the attention and say, “It wouldn’t have mattered if you hadn’t caught the snitch.”
“It was a team effort.” A new voice says from behind me, and I feel a hand on each of my shoulders. Fred and George are standing behind me and they look at me before asking, “Mind if we steal Harry for a bit?”
I shake my head, and they look at Harry with a mischievous look in their eyes. Harry’s eyes go wide with fear, before Fred lifts him up on his shoulders. The room goes wild again as Fred leads Harry to the centre of the room. A small smile cracks on my face as I watch everyone celebrate again.
I look around the room again, and I try to find him, but I can’t see anything because why were seventh years so tall? I turn around and hit someone flat in their chest. I look up to find George looking at me. He says, “He’s across the room, on the other side.”
“Who is?” I ask, and he gives me a pointed look with a smirk, as if he can’t believe that I don’t think he knows. I do know that he knows, I think everyone but him knows. George leans down, so I can hear him better. He says, “The one you’ve been looking for all night, and won’t celebrate without.”
I feel a blush coating my cheeks, but he’s right, every word. I have been looking for him all night, and I haven’t celebrated at all despite our victory because I’ve been looking for him all night. I mutter, “Thank you.”
George seemed satisfied because he gave me another teasing grin before he left to go into the middle of the common room to join the celebration and probably help Fred lift Harry up. I make my way to the other side of the room, but it’s hard to see with the dim lighting and the sheer amount of people in this room.
I push through several people and I try to make my way between them, but with all the dancing and jumping, it makes the easy task much harder. I see a wall, or at least I think I do, and I walk towards it. I reach the end of the common room, and I press my palm to the wall, as if to make sure that it’s real, like I’ve actually made it.
I see him, then. I recognise him as soon as I see him, despite not being able to see nearly anything, maybe it’s because of the distinctive red hair, or maybe it’s because the way my heart nearly went out of my chest at the sight of him. He has a cup in his hand, that he’s taking a few sips from and another in his other hand, that he hasn’t touched. He’s leaning against the wall. He’s looking around, just like I was a few minutes ago.
A smile blossoms on my face, and I walk to him. A couple footsteps, and he notices me when I’m only a few inches away. He smiles, just like me, and he meets me halfway. I feel nervous. He extends the untouched cup to me and I take a sip, it’s my favourite soda.
I look at him, and it’s different. I wonder if he knows that it’s the look I give to him and only him. I wonder if he notices that when his smile widens that I realise that I like him. I wonder if he realised that he liked me at the same moment. He says, “Hi.”
***
No one ever really told me how fast time goes by when you’re at Hogwarts. That one second you’re taking your first ever potions lesson and the next you’re getting ready for your NEWT potions. That one second you’re at a party realising that you have a crush on someone and the next thing you know you realise that you’ve been in love with Ron Weasley for three years.
This year hasn’t been easy, definitely one of the easier ones to take in, of course, but with NEWTs it's been near impossible to be caught up with work. That’s even harder when the guy you’ve been in love with just kissed another girl a week ago and right now is no doubt getting ready to go on a date with her.
The common room was quiet. Everyone was already at Hogsmeade and the people below third year were too busy getting a little bit extra sleep. The only thing I could hear was the fire crackling from the fireplace and the sound of pages turning as I studied Transfiguration for the upcoming test, but I couldn’t study because of the aching feeling in my chest.
We all saw it when Lavender kissed him after we’d won the match, but only a few people saw me run off after that. An even fewer amount were with me when I started crying, and only Harry knew what happened afterwards. I saw him talking with her a few mornings ago, deciding that they’ll go out today to Hogsmeade, no doubt to madam puddifoot’s. I look at the same page I’d been staring at for who knows how long, trying to understand anything that is written.
“Hello? Is anyone down there?” I hear him say, and a few seconds later, He walks down the stairs, and my breath hitches when I see him. He’s gotten all dressed up for this date, and I can’t deny that he looks absolutely beautiful.
He says my name and he stays there for a moment. He’s late for the date, I know that he knows that, and I’m sure Lavender who’s probably standing alone in front of the tea shop knows that. I feel uneasy, looking at him, knowing he’s going to another girl in a few minutes.
He clears his throat and gestures to his unbuttoned coat, he says, weakly, “Would you mind helping me? I can’t close the buttons, they're too small and the holes for the buttons are just invisible to me.”
He chuckles, but it’s out of nervousness. I can tell, I know his happy laugh, his sad laugh, I thought I knew everything about him, but apparently I don’t because I thought he knew how I felt. I don’t say anything, but I close the book and place it beside me on the couch.
I stand up and walk towards him, he meets me halfway. I fix his coat by the long collar and I trace my hands to the buttons, I can hear his breath hitch, and the silence between is deafening. I mutter, “You look good.”
“Thank you.” he replies, and I’ve buttoned half of the buttons when I pause to look into his eyes. He’s already looking at me. I look at him the way I always do, a look filled with everything that I can’t say, a look that’s meant just for him. He’s done something different with his hair, I don’t know what, but it makes him look absolutely irresistible, more than he usually is, at least to me anyways.
“It’s like we’re a married couple.” He laughs, and I can imagine exactly what he’s saying. Me helping him get ready in the morning while he goes off to work when it’s snowing outside and needs his coat. I let out a chuckle, before I said, “Wouldn’t that be something.”
After that the room is charged with something I can’t quite put my finger on, and it makes my heart beat faster and faster with every second that I push each button into its hole.
I take more time buttoning up the last button, and I pause my hands there. On my way to look into his eyes, I notice that the top part of the coat is wrinkled, so I press my hands to his chest and smooth the fabric of the coat out. I leave my palms there a bit longer, feeling the way his chest moves up and down and the way I can feel his heartbeat under my fingertips.
I lift my hands from his chest and in a second, he grabs both my wrists and holds them close to him. I look at him, and he’s got a look that I can’t decipher. I wonder if he can tell that I’m miserable just thinking about where he’s going, or the fact that he’s going there with someone else.
He opens his mouth, and it takes him a few seconds before he says, “I’m not going on that date.”
For the first time in days, I feel my chest stop constricting, I feel like I can breathe again, but it doesn’t make any sense. I lick my lips before asking, “Why?”
“You know why.” That’s his only answer, and he doesn’t say anything as he slowly drops my hands, and goes back up the stairs. I’m left down there with my thoughts.
***
“Are you sure Mr Weasley allowed you to do this?” I ask as I hold on tightly to the handles of the door. I look out the window and stare down as I can see the tops of the buildings getting smaller and smaller by every second.
“I’m an adult now, of legal age, he can’t tell me what to do and what not to do.” Ron said, with confidence as he started out into the road-sky. I look at him with a pointed look, unconvinced by his speech. He clears his throat and says, “He said yes.”
“You’d think that after second year’s incident that he would be more cautious about letting you use this thing.” I say, grinning, remembering the way Ron broke his wand and almost got expelled. Something good came out of it though, Ron became my wand partner and we spent more time together. He laughed, “He said that if I scratched it, he would kill me. I think we made an unbreakable vow or something.”
I laughed at his words, and looked out the window. I wondered how long his small talk can last before we start getting to the subject that we’ve been tiptoeing around these past few months. I wasn’t talking about the war, we all knew that was coming sooner or later. I was talking about us.
“Thank you for picking me up.” I said, looking at him. He shrugged his shoulders as if travelling several hundred kilometres back and forth was no big deal, he explained, “You had to come here someway. Fleur would’ve killed me if she found out that you weren’t coming to her wedding.”
Even after his words, a small part of me hoped that he wanted me to come. He grips the wheels tighter and every few seconds he would rub his hands over his jeans to wipe away the sweat. I take a breath before I courageously grab his hand into mine. I keep them both in my lap, and he looks at me baffled. I ask, “Do you need it to drive?”
“No, I don’t.” He says and he looks back quickly in front of him. I smile as I see the tiny pink tinge to his cheeks, matching mine exactly. I look out the window and I see the sun setting, by the time we’re there it will no doubt be midnight.
It was nearly midnight when we got there. Mrs Weasley was the only one who was still up, waiting for her son to get home and waiting to greet me. She had a smile on her face, tired, but still as wide as always. I didn’t need her to point me to the direction of the room I’ll be staying in, I already knew.
I enter the room and place my bags on one of the beds, I notice Hermione and Ginny already sound asleep. I change into my pyjamas, brush my teeth and get ready to go to sleep. The place is warm and the perfect atmosphere to fall asleep in, but when I tucked myself into my covers, I couldn’t fall asleep for the life of me.
I kept sighing as I turned to either of my sides trying to fall asleep. Changing the pillows from one side to the other, tossing and turning until I decided that I’ve had enough. I rub my tired eyes and see that the clock had struck twelve. I sigh and get up.
I headed down stairs in my fuzzy slippers, I tried not to make any sound, but the creaky stairs weren’t helping me. I made it to the bottom where the kitchen was. I opened the door and was hit by the smell of fresh coffee, just what I needed. Ron was sitting on the table with a cup in his hands.
He turned to see who had just entered the kitchen. Upon seeing me, he stands up, nearly dropping a bit of coffee from his mug in the process. He breathes, “Hi.”
I return the greeting, as I move towards the cupboard where the mugs are. I know where everything is, having helped Mrs Weasley enough times to know. I felt his eyes on my back the entire time, and I grabbed my mug, everyone had their own mugs, even me. I turned and gestured to the coffee pot, I asked, “Do you mind?”
He shakes his head, and he looks at me as I add the milk and sugar. He looks at my every move and it makes me feel lightheaded, in the way that makes me feel like I’m going to float to the moon. I turn to the table and he’s already beat me in pulling out a chair. I sit down and give him a grateful smile. I wrap my fingers around the mug, and lift my feet to the chair, resting my head on my knees.
He’s looking at me. We’re the only people who do that. We never say anything, but I can hear what he wants to say. It was our thing being able to feel everything in the silence. I wonder if from these looks he can tell just how much I love him, or maybe, how long I’ve loved him for.
“Why are you up?” he asks, after a beat, and I take another sip before replying, “I couldn’t sleep, you?”
“Same thing, but I had to get up in a couple of hours to help with setting up for the wedding anyway, so I made the coffee.” he explains, and I nod my head at his words. I don’t say anything else, but the air is heavy. How long can we go on like this? With everything that I feel between us, that I know he feels too, left unsaid.
He takes both our mugs and places them into the sink. He waves his wands and they start washing themselves. He tightens his grip on his wand and he pauses before saying, “Do you want to go somewhere?”
***
Muggle London was still alive, or at least more alive than any other wizarding establishment. It wasn’t that far either, so it was the perfect place to go, and that’s where we were. I was walking on the sidewalk and he was walking beside me. My arms were swinging and I kept thinking what would happen if I just reached over and grabbed his hand.
There weren’t many cars passing by, just one or two every few minutes. Neither of us knew a lot about Muggle London, but we knew what not to do in front of muggles, so we kept our wands hidden and kept the magic chatter away.
“Your brother is getting married tomorrow.” I sigh, Fleur is getting married too, it only seemed like yesterday when I was just meeting her after she stepped off the flying carriage.Time really does fly by, doesn’t it. Ron sighs, wistfully, “Yeah.”
“I think it’s great that they’re doing this.” I say, and I kick a pebble in front of me, then I add, “Especially at a time like this, I think that we all need a bit of cheering up, don’t you think.”
“Yeah.” He replies, and it makes me feel confused. He wasn’t very talkative tonight. He looked very deep in thought, it made me nervous. I stop walking and turn to him, I ask, “Ron, are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He replies and I quirk up an eyebrow and he chuckles, “Yes, I am.”
I shrug my shoulders and continue walking, it’s best with Ron not to press on things. He’ll tell me when he’s ready. What could possibly be on his mind? We all know that the war has been making everyone unnerved, but this felt different. Ron and I tried not to talk about these things, I didn’t want to express my fears of something happening to him, especially since he was so close to Harry. I shake my head at the thoughts, and try to lighten the mood.
“Does Bill know about how you liked Fleur?” The teasing question brings Ron to a screeching halt. His cheeks turn as red as his hair, and I start laughing. He stutters, and it only increases my laughter. I hold my stomach and lean forward, laughing.
“He-he doesn’t know, so let’s not remind anyone of it. The last thing I need is Fred and George remembering and telling him.” Ron stutters before he folds his arms over his chest and pouts. I pause for a second to pretend that I’m thinking, I tap my chin and furrow my eyebrows. I say, “That’s actually not a bad idea.”
Ron’s eyes go wide and he lifts his pointer finger and threatens, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I’m on my way to tell them right now.” I say, before turning around the other way and starting to run. Ron runs after me and he’s calling out for me and telling me to stop, I can barely hear anything over the sounds of my own laughter.
Suddenly, my chuckles stop as I feel something, something like air, pulling me back very quickly. I stop when I feel Ron’s chest behind my back. He tucks his wand away and I turn to scold him, “Ron! You can’t use magic here!”
“There’s no one around.” Ron says, and I turn around to look and there’s only a few people around. No one is actually paying attention to us. I look back at him and he’s got his hand hovering near my face. It’s all so sudden to me the way the atmosphere changes, the way he’s looking at me with those eyes, identical to the ones that I give him.
I don’t move, and he takes it as a sign to move his hand forward. He tucks a strand of my hair behind my face, and he cups my cheek. My breath hitches. He whispers, “It wouldn’t have been good ammunition against me anyway.”
“Why not?” I whisper, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, but I can’t bring myself to care about that now anyway. I might have been mistaken, but I see Ron’s eyes flicker to my lips, it’s just for a second, but it ignites everything within me, including a pinkish colour to my cheeks. I lick my lips anyway, and this time I’m not mistaken because he definitely looked at my lips this time.
“Because everyone knows there’s only one girl I’ve ever liked.” Ron says, and it makes butterflies swarm in my stomach, my heart beat out of my chest, all those romantic feelings. I don’t need to ask who because I know, and because I know. I lift my heels from the group and kiss him.
***
“It’s a really pretty view, isn’t it?” I hear him say from behind me, I’d recognise that voice anywhere. I turn to look at him with a smile, I don’t know how I didn’t notice him coming before. I fixed my gaze back at the tent where the wedding was happening. Fleur and Bill are husband and wife so now everyone is celebrating. I reply, “The prettiest”
“It better be I worked really hard to make it that way.” Ron huffs and it makes me chuckle. He sits down on the grass beside me, looking at the tent as well. I sigh, with all that’s happening in the world I don’t think that there’s anywhere I’d rather be. I can hear the faint sound of the music from up here on the hill, and it feels peaceful.
I can hear the birds chirping and the sounds of laughter. It was really, very pretty. I feel a hand touch mine, and I look at Ron who looks like he’s just been caught stealing, maybe stealing my heart, but he’s already taken that a long time ago. I smile and shuffle closer to him to hold his large hand with both of mine. I rest my head on his shoulder, and I hear him let out a breath before he rests his head on mine.
If I was given the opportunity to stay like this forever, then I would have, of course, I’d see if there was a way to kill Voldemort first, then I’d stay like this. We haven’t talked about the kiss, but Ron’s been much more affectionate since then. A part of me was afraid that he’d chicken out and say that it was simply the cause of sleep deprivation. The other part of me was terrified that he would give me all his love then end up dying in this war.
The idea brought a shudder down my spine. Losing Ron is the last thing I can take, especially when I’m so close to finally having him. I’ve been afraid to try and kiss him after the first time because what if I get too attached and something happens to him? What will I do with myself then?
“I have something to tell you.” Ron breaks my train of thought, and the feeling of him lifting his head off of mine, prompts me to do the same. I look at him and he has a grim look on his face that only makes me worry even more. I ask, “What is it?”
He doesn’t answer, and my mind reels with the possibilities, each one worse than the one before it.I squeeze his hand and suck in a deep breath. I say, “Ron?”
“I’m planning on leaving.” he replies, and I furrow my eyebrows confused. Where would he be going at a time like this? Why would he leave in the middle of the war? I say, trying to make my voice even but it comes out shaky anyway, “Leaving where?”
“We’re going to find the Horcruxes and destroy them, Harry, Hermione and me.” he explains. Ah yes, the Horcruxes the pieces of Voldemort's soul and the key to killing him. Ron told me all about them after Harry told him. I hoped that Dumbledore would be taking the lead on this ordeal but as soon as Ron explained, Dumbledore was dead.
Why does it have to be Ron that goes to do this extremely dangerous mission? Does it have to be my friends too? I feel my eyes beginning to water, so I look away. I can feel Ron’s gaze burning into the side of my face. I blink the tears away because I know that Ron’s going anyway. It’s the Gryffindor side of him. I ask, “Is there any other way?”
“No.” he replies, shortly and straight to the point. I sigh, even though I knew it. The leaves rustle and the wind strengthens around us. It makes me shiver, Ron takes off his jacket and hands it to me. He wraps it around my shoulders and tugs it around me, making sure that I’m covered. He looks at me then he says, “You can’t contact me when I’m away.”
“Yeah, I gathered that.” I say and chuckle to hide the fact that it is the complete opposite of what I am feeling. What I’m currently feeling is a whole bunch of emotions that don’t even remotely come close to happiness. I chuckle, though I’m sure he knows that I’m not kidding at all, “Well then, promise you’ll come back in one piece.”
“I promise.” he says, and he smiles, but we both know that it’s not up to him. He presses a kiss to my forehead, and i close my eyes, trying to take in the feeling, in case I don't get it for a long time, in case i don’t ever get it again, it’s a morbid thought, but it’s possible. I sigh, “When are you leaving?”
“I don’t know, Harry and Hermione are deciding.��� Ron says, and I nod my head. I wonder if there’s any way Harry can forget about Voldemort and all the death eaters drop dead with something like food poisoning. I promised myself that in the last moments that he’s here before he leaves I’ll let go of all of my fears and all of my ghosts to spend these moments with him.
“I have something to show you.” he says, and his frown is replaced by a slight grin, he’s brought me a gift to soften the blow, he knows me too well. The thoughts are still in the back of my mind, but I push them away and focus on him, while I excitedly say, “What is it?”
He waved his wand and a square shaped box appeared. It drops from the air to his hands and he gives it to me. I waste no time in taking off the wrapping which disappeared as soon as I did, and lifting the lid off the box. My breath gets caught in my throat as soon as I see it. I push my hair away from my face. The wind makes it impossible for me to see it clearly. I look at the tiny figurine that matches me, or me three years ago, it’s hard to believe that it was that long ago.
It was a snow globe and inside it were tiny figurines of Ron and I dancing. The snow falls over us just like it did the moment when this was taken. The tiny me and the tiny Ron only move in a circle but it’s perfect. I look up at him and realise, he’s perfect, maybe not in every way, but at least he’s perfect for me.
My lack of answering must have made him panic because he’s started rambling, “I made it a few days ago because I didn't know I just wanted to give you something to remember me by- or something equally as cheesy. It’s fine if you don’t like it-”
“I love it, Ron.” I cut him off, holding his hand with mine that isn’t occupied. I smile, and he does it back. He rubs the back of his neck, no doubt embarrassed by the amount of attention I’m giving him. He mutters, “Oh, I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s us by the way at the-”
“At the Yule ball.” I beat him to it, did he seriously think I wouldn’t remember? I was Harry’s date because Ron was too chicken to ask me out, and I would’ve asked him out, if I didn’t want to teach him a lesson, and maybe a small part of me was scared of rejection as well. Harry didn’t dance the whole night and neither did Ron. I spent the whole night dancing with my friends and their dates, until when almost everyone was off of the dance floor, Ron asked me to dance. He says, “Yeah.”
“How’d you make it?” I asked, looking at the snow globe, closely. I was very intrigued by the mechanism of it, It looked nearly identical to the actual event. I was wearing the same dress down to the pearls around my neck and everything. Ron explains, “I give them a memory of mine in a vial and you know- they make that-”
He gestures to the globe in my hands, and I nod my head at his words. I shake it again to make the snow fall over tiny me’s head. I smile looking at it, remembering the wonderful night. I hear the sounds of the people instead the tent turns more quiet and I look at the tent, curiously. Ron says, "Look up.”
I do just that and as if on queue the fireworks start around the tent. There were several murmurs of exclamation at the sight from the tent, and I couldn’t help but agree. It was beautiful. Seeing the colour shoot one after the other, purple and blue and yellow and red, each one exploding then fading into the sky. It was a wonderful sight.
Our shoulders brush and I look at Ron to find him looking at me. He looks at me with that look again. The look that I gave him back in third year in a dark room, that made him see my love for him even with the lights out. The look that I give him when I have a hundred words to say, but I can’t say them, and he just knows what I mean. The look that I gave him when we were driving to the Burrow that made him feel what I meant.
The light reflects on something and it pierces into my eyes, I notice that it’s a chain around his neck. The chain that I gave him as a present only a few months ago. He was in the hospital wing after he almost got poisoned, I couldn’t sit still that day, I even had to leave the castle. That’s when I stumbled across it, it wasn’t much, but I knew that Ron would like it. I say, “You kept it?”
“Of course.”
I find myself leaning closer and closer to him. My breath is hitching as I’m filled with the anticipation of our second kiss. Not saying anything was our thing, I hoped that with this kiss, he would feel what I wanted to say. I love you, I love you, I love you, I hoped he would feel it and maybe even return it before he left.
But he doesn’t. We’re torn apart by the sounds of screams coming from the tent. Ron jumps up to his feet and one hand holds his wand while the other holds mine. He starts running in the opposite direction and he pushes me into a shed. I can’t question him about how absurd he’s being pushing me into a shed, but I don’t have time. He’s already got one hand on the door, and he says, “Stay here you’ll be safe.”
I want to complain, I want to go fight with him, but I didn’t because he was already closing the door to the shed, but before he does, from a small crack between the door and the shed’s walls, he says, “I’ll be right back.”
***
Except he didn’t come back, he didn’t come back for a while actually. When I heard the screams and the noise coming from the tent stop, I came out. Everyone was ( to a certain extent ) okay, but Ron was nowhere in sight. His family were all frightened of course, and I hated to be the one to inform them about the news.
My parents fled the country opting to go to America instead because it was safer, I refused. My whole life was here, I needed to stay in England to protect it. I didn’t go back to Hogwarts that year, not with the staff being changed, not with Snape as headmaster. The death eaters had warned that all students should return to Hogwarts, but I lived with Bill and Fleur under the assumption that Bill was teaching me how to become a curse breaker.
I didn’t want to burden them with my existence by staying with them, considering that the only money I had was in the vaults, but I couldn’t go and get them, not while death eaters were around. Bill told me that we were valuable to the death eaters, considering that we had a close connection to Ron and hence Harry. He told me that we should stay hidden for a while.
It wasn’t easy, but I spent my time with Fleur. She taught me bits of French when we were bored, and we kept to the garden most of the time. Sometimes, members of the Weasley family would come to visit at the Shell Cottage, but they never stayed for long. I barely spent any time inside at all, I wanted to leave Bill and Fleur alone together, after all they were newlyweds, I didn’t want to impose, despite their arguments, saying that I was not imposing.
I spent most of my time thinking about Ron, how he was. I kept listening to the radio, the station that Fred, George and Lee had made, under code names. I prayed every time that I wouldn’t hear the names of anyone I loved. Harry, Ron and Hermione left so suddenly, I wondered if they had anything prepared with them at all. I know Hermione did, but did the rest of them. Clothes, food, water, did they have what they needed?
I know that Ron is doing this to save the world and everything, but couldn’t he just take a break from saving the world, and just spend a little time with me. It was selfish, I knew that, but it didn’t stop me from wishing for just that.
I wake up one day, close to noon, like I always did nowadays. It was November and the air was chilly, so I kept a blanket around my shoulders. I had a room for myself, it was the guest room, but I turned it mine after living here for so long.
I brush my teeth and my hair. I wobble down the stairs, and I see Bill and Fleur’s backs. I furrowed my eyebrows, it was an odd sight. Usually, in the mornings, Bill would be outside placing protective charms while Fleur stayed inside and prepared breakfast, or read one of her favourite books. I ask, “What’s going on guys?”
They step aside and I see what I didn’t expect, Ron. He looked dishevelled and tired, and something else that I couldn’t place. I didn’t want to analyse his expressions at the moment, I just wanted to hug him. I whispered his name like I couldn’t believe he was here and I rushed down the last few steps and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I can’t believe you’re here, I missed you so much.” I say, and I tighten my grip around him. It takes me a few seconds to realise that he wasn’t hugging me back. I pull away from him and I ask, “What’s wrong?”
I lift my hand to cup his cheek, to hopefully get him to look at me. I don’t understand what’s got him acting this way, especially after I didn’t see him for months. As soon as my hand touches his cheek, he turns his head away, like I burned him. He takes a step away and he asks, “Did you sleep with Harry?”
My blood runs cold, and I feel Bill and Fleur looking at me expectantly. This was the last thing I expected him to ask me, ever, and definitely not the first thing I wanted him to say when I finally saw him. I stutter, “I-what?”
“You heard me. Did you sleep with Harry?” he shouts, and I scrunch my face up and close my eyes. I can’t believe that we’re doing this now. I was going to tell him, I was, but not when everything was going wrong around us, I didn’t want us to go wrong too. I try, “Ron, calm down.”
“That’s not an answer!” Ron shouts, and I press my lips tightly together and I avoid his gaze, looking down at the floor. I hear him scoff and I can hear Fleur’s tiny gasp. Bill grapes his wife’s hand and they leave the room, and they go upstairs. I can’t imagine what they must think of me now. I sigh, “I really wanted to tell you, Ron.”
He huffs and starts to walk outside into the garden. I follow him without question and I try to reason with him, “I couldn’t tell you with everything that was going on. Too much was already happening, I didn’t want to add to that.”
“Why the bloody hell would you sleep with him anyway?” Ron shouts back at me and I rush over to grab his shoulder and stop him. He doesn’t look at me, but I don’t let him move away from me. I say, “Could you stop running away for a moment and just let me explain?”
He doesn’t reply, and I can see him clench his jaw, but he sits down on the grass anyway. I sit in front of him, cross legged and I hold his hand. He still wasn’t looking at me, but after a beat, a take a deep breath in then begin to explain, “When you kissed Lavender, it was kind of like the whole world just threw me off for a second, because you were this guy that I liked for years, and I just assumed that you liked me back even though there wasn’t much proof, but it was enough for me to just keep on liking you back.”
I took another breath and then continued, “I realised that we weren’t really anything, and you obviously knew that because you had your tongue shoved down someone’s throat. I was really hurt, I felt miserable and that continued on for days after, but at the moment I wasn’t really thinking. I had to get out of there because everyone was cheering and I couldn't breathe.”
His hand relaxes in mine a bit and I feel the weight on my shoulders loosen a bit as I keep going, “Hermione and Harry were the only ones who noticed I left, so they followed. They comforted me, and when Hermione left, Harry told me that everything was going to get better. He knew that because that’s the way he felt when Ginny was with Dean. I needed someone and he needed someone, and we were both there.”
I didn’t bother continuing because he knew what happened next. He pulls his hand from mine, and he shuffles away from me. I feel a knife going into my chest, but I know that it must be nothing compared to the knife in his back. I don’t say anything else, and I wait for him to say something. He asks, “Did you sleep with anyone else?”
I knew the answer was going to dig my hole even deeper, but I couldn’t lie to him. I knew it was just going to make it worse, so I brace myself for the impact and I sigh, “No.”
“Oh that’s just great. I thought that if you were some kind of whore then it would’ve been better, but no, you had to pick Harry.” He mutters, angrily, and I feel my eyes begin to water, but I look to the side to blink them away. He adds, “Even after knowing the way he makes me feel-”
He cuts himself off with a sigh, as he covers his face with both his hands. I knew what he meant. Ron has always felt inferior to everyone in his family and especially Harry. A part of Ron always hated Harry because he was the chosen one, and the boy who lived, and he was just his best friend. I always tried to make him feel like he was the best person on the planet, but my words only did so much.
“I really am sorry, Ron.” I say, and I feel my eyes start to burn again. I purse my lips and hope to stop the tears from flowing but they do anyway. I chuckle bitterly, “This is not how I imagined this would go at all.”
I can see his expression falter, no doubt taken aback by hearing the change in my voice. He knew I was crying, but he still didn’t look at me. I say, “I know that you’re hurt, and I’m sorry, but I know that- that you know that you’re the only person I’ve ever liked.”
“I love you, Ron.” I say it for the first time, my feelings are out, and he hears them. I don’t have to share them with him with glances and small touches. He now knows for sure how I feel. I sniffle, “If by some chance, at some point, you don’t hate me, then come talk to me, okay?”
He doesn’t reply, so I wipe away the few stray tears, and I stand up and go to my room. I wondered if Bill and Fleur would let me stay with them after knowing this piece of information. Once I close the door to my room, I can’t stop the tears from flowing freely. Just as soon as I had him, I lost him, and it wasn’t because of the stupid war.
I sit on my bed and I cover my face with both my hands. I didn’t want it to be like this, I wanted him to come back and he’d tell me that he missed me, and he’d kiss me. He did keep his word though, he came back in one piece. All I wanted was him.
The door to my room opens and I’m quick to wipe my face as I look up and find Ron entering the room. He closes the door behind him and he leans against it. I watch him closely. Ron huffs, “It’s unfair- it’s unfair that as soon as you cry, you can get me to do anything you want.”
I don’t say anything, and for the first time since what feels like forever he’s looking at me with something other than hate. This isn’t the first time Ron and I fought, but this was the biggest fight. Like every fight, after it, we talk. He takes a few steps and sits on my bed with me, except that he stays as far away from me as possible.
“I’m sorry I called you…that.” He says, and I know what he’s talking about. I’ve been insulted before, like every person on the planet, but it always hurts the most from the person you least expect it from. I sniffle, “It’s fine, I deserved it.”
“No, you didn’t. I overreacted-”
“Which is totally understandable.” I cut him off, and I feel him warming up to me. The silence between us is heavy, but in a way, it’s more comfortable. He runs a hand through his overgrown hair and he says, “This isn’t how I wanted this to go either.”
“How- how did you want this to go?” I ask, carefully. He doesn’t reply, but he answers as he leans forward to embrace me. He wraps his arms around my body in a big, warm hug. It’s the best feeling in the world. I squeeze my eyes shut and grip him tighter.
A few knocks on the door are heard when the door opens and we hear the hinges squeak. Fleur and Bill poke their heads in and they smile at the sight of us both in a tight embrace. Bill says, “We’re going to Mom’s, do you want to come?”
“I think I’ll just stay here, but say hi for me.” Ron replies to his older brother and Bill nods, then he leaves the room. As soon as the door is shut, Ron holds my face with both his large hands, and he says, “Merlin, I missed you so much.”
“You have no idea.” I reply, and he presses a kiss to my forehead, and I rest my head back in the crook of his neck. He mutters, much to my dismay, “I’m going to have to go back.”
I know where back is. Back where Harry and Hermione are, back where he was fighting dark wizards and back where he was hunting Horcruxes. Ron’s always been the perfect mix of a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor, of course he was going back to his friends. I sigh, “I know, but can you stay, just for a little while, at least.”
It takes him a second, and I know that he’s thinking about it. He squeezes me tighter and that’s how I know he’s got his answer ready. He whispers, “Okay.”
That’s when we decide that for the short time that he’s going to be staying here that we’re going to make the most out of it, and we do. In the middle of the night, after the previously occurring events, he looks at me, and I grin at him. I thought he fell asleep. He looks at me with a strange look on his face. He pauses, then says, “You’re my best friend.”
I know that was his way of telling me that he loved me too.
***
I wake up to the smell of something burning and Ron not beside me. I groan as the bright sunlight hits my eyes first thing in the morning. I can hear the birds chirping and I wonder if Bill and Fleur were back, I assumed that they weren’t because neither of them would ever burn anything.
I sit up and I stretch, feeling the cold autumn chill hit my naked body, making me want to curl up under the sheets for a little while more. I see Ron’s shirt on the ground, and I grab it as well as a fresh pair of underwear.I brush my teeth, and head downstairs, and I see a very pretty sight.
A shirtless Ron in only his boxers, cooking breakfast, or at least trying to. I chuckle at the sight of the three burnt toasts on a plate on the kitchen counter. It alerts him of my presence, and he turns around quickly. He sees me looking at the toast and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. He says, “I was trying, okay?”
“I didn’t say anything!” I laugh, and I walk around the kitchen island to get to him. I wrap my hands around his torso and I hug him tightly, and he does the same as much as he can with a spatula in one hand. I lean back and I get a perfect view of his bare chest and I just want to say ‘thank you, quidditch’.
“I’m just going to wait here, until you’re done making-” I lean forward to see what he was making in the pan on the stove, and I see something yellow, so I detect that it’s eggs, but it didn’t look quite right so I continue, “scrambled eggs.”
“It’s supposed to be an omelette, but okay.” Ron says, with an annoyed tone, but it makes me chuckle anyway. I sit down on the kitchen island, and when Ron’s finished, he sets the plates beside me. I take it as an opportunity to wrap my hands around his neck and pull him in for a kiss.
He sets his hands on my waist, and he pecks my lips a couple times before trailing down to give a few kisses to my jaw and neck. He begins to suck on a certain spot, and I pull away. I give him a threatening look and I warn him, “You gave me enough of those already last night, no more.”
He laughs and presses a quick kiss to my lips that makes me smile just as wide as he is. His eyes trail down and he notices the shirt I’m wearing, his shirt. He grabs the material between his two fingers. He gives me a look, “This is mine.”
A firm statement, it’s his shirt, I know it, he knows it. I feign an innocent look, and look down at the shirt, like I’m just noticing that I’m wearing it in the first place. I furrow my eyebrows in fake confusion and tilt my head to the side. I say, “is it?”
“Yes, it is.” Ron replies, with a grin on his face. I shrug my shoulders and hum, “hmm, didn’t notice. I’ll give it back to you when it’s time for you to leave.”
“Nah, keep it.”
Ron ended up staying a lot longer than just a little while. Hermione and Harry were very mad at him because of that, but it didn’t matter because in only a few months after a very big battle, all was right in the world again. We had lost so many people, but in the end, we won.
We returned for our last year at Hogwarts as 8th years. I studied to become a curse breaker, I guess it wasn’t a lie after all, and Ron became an Auror. Every once in a while Ron would help out Fred and George with stock and inventory and all things shop related. They even gave him his own office. I was pleasantly surprised to find a picture of me on his desk.
All I can say is that the wait was worth it because I was very much in love with Ron Weasley and he loved me too, so despite everything despite all the longing glances, the fights and the bloody war, we made it, and nothing is better than when you’re in love.
#harrypotterimagine#hogwarts#harry potter#harrypotter#fanfiction#fluff#gryffindor#harryjamespotter#harrypotterfluff#weasley#weasley twins#ron weasley#ron weasley angst#ron weasley fluff#ron weasley imagine#ron weasley smut#ron weasley x reader#ron weasley x you#ron weasly imagine#ron wealsey x y/n#ron weasly x reader#ronald weasley#kissing#taylor swift#taylor swift 1989#1989 tv#1989 taylor's version#swifties#songfic#one shot
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Weasley Siblings Reacting To You Saying You Are Pregnant
Writing Comission’s Are Open
William ‘Bill’
“Excuse me-?” He was left practically speechless, when he picked up the onesie on his bedside table. A little blue thing, with the words To The Moon And Back. He was so full of emotions. Panic, excitement, horror, joy. Would the baby inherit his wolf tendencies? Would something go wrong, because of his bad blood? He was so scared. Would you be in danger, because of him? With his eyes turning to you, and seeing that excited smile, he couldn’t help but calm down. Teddy existed after all, didn’t he? He was as fine as he could be. The idea of holding his own little ball of joy. To see that orange hair, and watch you nurse. “I’m going to be a dad….” He trailed, with a smile. “I’m going to be a dad-“ He repeated, as he would hold the little sleep wear to his chest. Tears ran down his broken cheeks, as he kept reacting it. So full of pride. He’s going to be a dad, with you.
Charlie
“IM GONNA BE A DAD-!” He was screaming, bloody damn murder, as he was running around at the sanctuary. Screaming it with pride, as you chased after him. Just laughing, as the dragons would lift up their heads. “IM A DAD IM A DAD IM A DAD-!” He keeps roaring, as the dragons would tilt their heads. Watching their motherly figure jump for joy. Literally. “Charlie-!” You laughed, as he was just to full of excitement. Laughing, cheering, and crying. That’s when one of the older mothers would grab him by the collar. Yanking him into the air, before plopping him right next to you. As if to convey that he better step up now. That had you laugh, as he pouted at her. “I am I am-!” He said, before he was on his knees. Holding your belly. “I’m gonna be your daddy-!” He squealed, as he kissed it over. All the excitement getting the new borns curious, but those mothers made sure they didn’t get to close. Letting him have his moment. A new baby, to join the herd.
Percy
“You cannot be serious-“ Percy was blinking, as he had hardly taken two steps through the fire place. Just gotten off work, early for once, only to be surprised by you making a baby box. It was meant to be a surprise, and something you would give to him after dinner. Seems like he was still surprised, regardless. “Who had the baby this time-?” He asked, as he would set his belongings where they were designated. That had you snort, as it didn’t quite dawn on him yet. With the fact you didn’t say anything, he turned around. “Honey?” He asked again, as you keep smiling. Slowly, the gears turned, before he was left with his cloak dropped from his hands. It was him. He didn’t expect that. Was like the last one to join the family gang. He couldn’t help his worry. He didn’t exactly grow up to well. He wasn’t to well connected with his family, and only came around when it was almost to late. He didn’t want that to happen to his kid. To have such a divide. You could tell he was worried, and patted the seat next to you. He joined, and you would kiss his head. “Who do you wanna tell first?” You asked, as he held your hand. The name he said, reassured himself that this kid won’t have that tension. Not like what he made. “George is perfect.” Another kiss to his head, as the plans were made. A big and happy family.
Fred
The words barley left your lips, before you were tossed over his shoulder. As quickly as you were tossed, you were soon hearing the noise of the busy shop. "HEY EVERYONE!" He shouted, causing everyone to look up at one of the railings. George as well, with curious eyes all the same. "IM GONNA BE A DAD, AND GEORGE IS GONNA BE A UNCLE!" He cheered, and everyone was a roar of cheers as well. George was quick to drop what he was doing, and soon aparate next to him. "Put your damn mother to be down!" He laughed, as Fred finally set you down. All three of you in a warm, and tight, hug. "i'm gonna be a uncle!" George cheered, as you laughed. You had to wonder who was more excited for the baby. Your husband, or his twin? It did not matter to you. They were both so happy for this wonderful news. They just could not let you go, as they were just laughing in joy. Children. More children. What could make them hate that?
George
"Pregnant?" He whispered, as he almost looked like he would burst into tears. "I heard that right, didn't I?" He asked, as he felt over the scarred skin that was once his ear. You nodded, before you held up your hands. You could not grasp sign as fast as George did, but you knew the alphabet. P.R.E.G.N.A.N.T. Pregnant. He was soon tackling you, as he was sobbing into your shoulder. "I'm going to be a dad-" He sobbed, as you rubbed his back. Some joy, in his world of darkness. You had fallen pregnant, not long after the death of Voldemort. Made senes, since the stress was gone. For you, anyway. "Jellybean....If its a boy...." You would peck his cheek, and nod. "A boy, Fred. If a girl, Fredrick works as a beautiful middle name." You comforted, getting another hiccup in return. The world was moving on, but the world will not be forgotten. Fred lived on, and hes going to be your tiny terror. How excited you two were, for it.
Ron
“No-“ He gasped. “Really-? No-! Are you-? No-“ Was like he was trapped in a loop, as he now paced around your living room. Looking at you, before looking at his feet, then repeating. As if every time he made a full pace, he turned. You had to admit, was pretty adorable. Figured news like this would make your Auror husband short circuit a bit. You let him pace, with a smile. Just grinning, as he was trying to register it all. Suppose work fatigue makes anyone’s brain mush. Especially a job like his. You would watch him pace, until his brain was finally registering that YEP you are indeed pregnant. “Bloody hell….IM GONNA BE A DAD-!” His face was beaming, before he was stealing you into his arms. He was exhausted, but not tired enough to not huggle and cuddle. “We need to tells ‘Mione and Harry-! Oh those two will be so excited-!” He beams. Uncle Harry and Auntie Hermione. He was going to crush you, you swore, if he kept being so happy. “Blimey, guess that over time is finally coming in handy.” You hated his over time, but he had a point. Now you two had a secure start. That had you relax a little more. “Hope Harry doesn’t mine if I slow down on my career a little.” You would stroke his hair, and pecked his cheek. “He’s Harry. I’m doubtful he will be made you want to not be dead on a side walk, and leave me a single parent.” You snorted. “Yeah, probably doesn’t want history repeating.” Morbid, but point proven. “Gonna be a dad-“ He kept smiling, as he pulled you into his lap. Unable to stop holding you close. He was so happy, and you were all the same. Your family.
Ginny
“SHUT UP-!” She gasped, as she was looking towards the Quidditch stands. No way was she seeing what she was seeing. Your wife just won the first game of the season, and she was looking straight at you. In the VIP seats, and holding up a sign. I’m Pregnant. In bold and colorful letters, so she couldn’t miss it. “NO WAY-!” Ginny kept screaming, as her team mates looked over, as they were shaking hands with the enemy team. “What’s up?!” One of them asked. “IM GONNA BE A MUM-!” Ginny cheered, as that had all the broomstick flyers stare towards where her eyes looked. “CONGRATS-!” The enemy seeker said, with a clap. Good sportsmanship. “IM GONNA BE A MUM-!” What a way to start her quidditch season. The first win, and the fact she’s going to be a mom. “Well, go and fly over-!” A team mate smacked her back, and she wasn’t needed to told twice. The fans went nuts, with famous Quidditch Star Ginny Weasley was flying towards the stands. Right to you, and nearly tackling you down in the box. The fellow VIP seaters clapped for you two, as she planted a big kiss on you. Tears in the corner of her eyes, as she hugged you tightly. “You knew I would win, didn’t you?” She asked. “No, but I mean what better way to recover from a loss?” That had her smack your shoulder, but she was soon was wiping her eyes on her gloves. “Oh fuck, look at me. Crying like a girl-“ She joked, as she sniffled. She was so happy, and you were as well. She just couldn’t contain her joy. Her, you, and your own little precious snitch. What more could a girl want?
#harry potter#harry potter magic awakened#hpma#magic awakened#hp magic awakened#bill Weasley#bill weasley x reader#Charlie Weasley#charlie weasley x reader#william weasley#William Weasley x reader#Percy Weasley#percy weasley x reader#Fred Weasley#fred weasley x reader#George Weasley#george weasley x reader#Fred and George#Weasley twins#Fred and George Weasley#Ron Weasley#ron weasley x reader#Ginny Weasley#Ginny Weasley x reader#x reader#x pregnant reader#x reader fluff#Weasley siblings#Weasleys#Weasley family
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Random Ravenclaw: I wonder how Lupin-Black survives dating a chaotic mess like Weasley.
Random Hufflepuff: Right? He's good looking and all but I don't think I could survive the constant pranking and detentions.
~meanwhile with Y/n & Fred~
Y/n: Can I-
Fred: No love, you will not eat the levitation candy.
Y/n, pouts: But I wanna fly like Peter pan.
Fred: And I don't want you to end up on the Great Hall ceiling and never get back down. They're just prototypes, they're still in the works.
Y/n: But-
Fred: No buts, sorry love.
#y/n lupin black#fred weasley x y/n#fred weasley#fred weasley fluff#fred weasley x reader#weasley twins#george weasley#lee jordan#remus and sirius love their kids#remus and sirius love their daughter#Hogwarts#ravenclaw#Hufflepuff#Gryffindor#Slytherin#y/n is the real chaotic mess#harry potter#fred weasley x you#fred weasley imagine
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me! | george weasley x reader
song; me! [taylor swift, brendon uri(n)e]
pairing; george weasley x fem!muggle!reader
genre; accidental marriage, s2l, fluff, comedy
word count; 7,8k
timeline; post-second wizarding war (fred lives au)
warnings; swearing, referenced alcohol consumption, references to hook-ups, references to sex, references to the war
summary; after waking up in bed with a red-haired stranger and no memories of the night prior, you run off as quickly as you can. it isn't until months later when you're trying to buy a house that you learn that you can't just leave that forgotten night in the past
thought it would be ironic to have the song with the lyrics "i promise that you'll never find another like me" and "i'm the only one of me" with one of the twins lol
masterlist
"you're the kinda guy the ladies want."
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Typically, you were more responsible than this. You had always stayed away from drunk hook-up culture, hoping (perhaps too idealistically) to find organic love. Yet, on the night of your cousin's bachelorette party, you got so drunk that you found yourself in bed with a stranger the next morning. And you didn't know what to do.
All you could do for a few moments was look around the hotel room that you had evidently decided was necessary for the hook-up - and although you couldn't remember a single thing after your tenth shot at the club, the fact you were both naked gave away the events of the night prior.
He was red-haired, and quite nicely toned, but he also donned a partially missing ear. You couldn't see his face, so at that particular moment you couldn't judge whether or not drunk you had good taste. You pushed that thought aside - that was the least of your concerns. You needed to get out of there and forget that anything had ever happened, which shouldn't be too difficult thanks to the alcohol-induced memory loss.
So, with that, you slipped out of bed and scavenged for all your clothes around the room, and then quickly departed. You made it all the way down to the lobby without any human interaction, but it was there at the desk that you finally had to communicate.
"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?" the receptionist smiled at you.
You frowned, not understanding why they would address you as such - probably had mistaken you for someone else. But, you were in a hurry, so just grinned and nodded, leaving to never return.
***
Not many people were fortunate enough to buy their first home (alone) at the age of twenty-four without any help from their parents, but you had chosen a rather well-paid career path and had been meticulous with your money savings, so this was a reality for you. After a few months of working with a real estate agent to view houses and find the perfect home for you, you had finally come to a decision.
You had stumbled upon it really, when travelling from London to visit your family, you came across a road that you had sworn hadn't been there before. Curiosity had overcame you, and you had driven down it to find the cutest village named Godric's Hollow, which could also be described as peculiar. A lot of things in the village didn't make sense - like the fact they all seemed bewildered at the sight of your car - but the architecture was gorgeous. When you drove past an adorable rustic cottage with a 'for sale' sign out front, you didn't even have to think twice about viewing it.
It was a strange process, however, as the sign didn't have a number for the real estate agency, but instead read 'owl Cauldron Realtors for more details'. You asked around for information about Cauldron Realtors (a particularly strange name, comparable to the robes many of the older members of the village wore), and they pointed you in the direction of the realtor's.
From then on, the process to view the house and apply for a mortgage had been relatively normal, if not a bit old-fashioned in the lack of technology used. However, you reasoned that it was a small village and that they merely hadn't updated themselves like cities just yet.
***
"Why have you asked me to come here?" you asked as delicately as you could upon entering Cauldron Realtors.
"We have had something come up," Mr Linseed said to you. He was an eccentric old man, constantly adorning a pair of half-moon spectacles perched on the tip of his nose.
"Like what?"
"You told us that you weren't married."
You frowned.
"And I thought it was a bit strange given your muggle situation, but honestly I had simply assumed that you were a squib."
He was using a lot of words that you didn't understand. You had heard the word muggle passed around in the time that you had spent in Godric's Hollow, but had been unable to find out what it meant online or in any dictionary. Everyone used it so commonly you had felt too embarrassed to ask.
"Obviously, this changes the process for you to apply for a mortgage. We need your husband to sign off either that he will partially own the house or have no claim over it."
"I don't understand- I'm not married," you said.
"No?" the man raised a brow at you, "When we searched for legal documentation of your name, we found that it hadn't been Y/N L/N for a few months, but instead Y/N Weasley. I didn't think much of you not having gotten around to changing your bank details yet since it hasn't been long, but going by your maiden name is a little strange. So, I assumed that the marriage was short-lived."
Why did Weasley sound so familiar? You wracked your brain for when you had heard it before.
"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?"
Your eyes widened.
The guy from the hotel.
"What did you say my husband's name was?" you said slowly.
"I didn't, but George Weasley," Mr Linseed replied, "You knew that, though, correct?"
You nodded, "Yeah... just making sure."
The man frowned at you, "He is quite well-known I suppose - the shop Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is quite famous. Anyhow, here are the new forms that I need you to fill out and then we will be back on track."
You accepted them in a daze, but snapped your eyes up towards him again, "Where can I find Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"
"Diagon Alley, of course," Mr Linseed was clearly confused that you didn't know where your husband worked.
You had never heard of Diagon Alley, and he sensed that.
"You know? Through The Leaky Cauldron? On Charing Cross Road?"
Finally, a name you recognised.
"Oh, yes. Thank you, Mr Linseed, I'll be back soon."
God, what a process to get yourself a house.
***
You were pretty sure that in all your visits to Charing Cross Road, you had never seen that pub squeezed between those buildings before. But, you weren't about to complain, as you were desperate to find George Weasley and sort everything out. You couldn't remember his face, but you remembered his red hair and partially missing ear - that should be enough to identify him.
You hoped, anyway.
Upon entering the gloomy pub, you were met by quite a shocking sight - but one that wasn't entirely indifferent to Godric's Hollow. Except, you would describe the pub as having a more creepy ambiance, in a way. Beady eyes peered in your direction as you walked up to the bar, and you tried to hold your own as a woman with matted grey hair and disturbingly long fingernails smiled at you with missing teeth. You forced a smile back.
"Excuse me," you said to the bartender, who was similar to the woman in energy, "How do I get to Diagon Alley?"
He pointed to the door out the back.
"Just through that door?"
"You'll need your wand too," the woman who had smiled at you said, "To tap the wall."
"Wand?" you squeaked.
"I'll show you," the woman said eerily.
In any normal circumstance, you would have declined the offer, but you had already had so many new experiences you found yourself following her out the back.
"You're not one of us, are you?" she asked with a giggle of glee, pulling out a wooden stick from her pocket.
You didn't reply, watching as she brought it up and tapped some of the bricks on the wall. To your amazement, they then parted, presenting to you the most bustling and magical street that you had ever seen.
"Diagon Alley," she stated, "Although I prefer Knockturn Alley."
You thanked her, and hurried into the street.
***
The pet shops were strange: mostly having owls, cats and toads. The book shops were strange: having cages of moving books in the display windows. The clothes shops were strange: pretty much exclusively selling robes and pointed hats. All in all, Diagon Alley was the most eccentric place you had ever been.
There was a broomstick shop, a wand shop, and a place to buy cauldrons. You were so out of your depth that you decided you should focus on the task at hand.
It wasn't long before you found a bright and buzzing shop named Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, looking ten times more exciting than all the shops before it. You were almost overwhelmed with all the young people inside once you entered, and it finally became obvious to you that it was a joke shop. The numerous prank items on display were clearly enchanted in a way too, only furthering your amazement at this street.
You scanned around for a redhead, but it was really difficult to spot anything within the chaos. Eventually, you located a flash of red by the till and hurried over. The queue was unfortunately long, but you waited impatiently nonetheless.
When you finally reached the front, the red-haired man behind it looked at you, and you couldn't help but noticed he had two full ears.
"Are you buying anything, miss?"
"I'm looking for George Weasley," you said quickly.
He rose an eyebrow at you, "What for?"
"It's a long story, I really need to talk to him."
"I'll fetch him," he said, and disappeared out back for a few moments before returning with a man almost identical to him save for that all-too-familiar ear. He didn't look at you like he recognised you - maybe he drank so much he had memory loss too? That would make sense, considering he hadn't tried to find you either.
"Can I help you?" George Weasley asked, gesturing for you to move to the side so that his twin could continue at the till.
"This is gonna sound crazy, but," you took a deep breath, "You're my husband."
"You're right, that does sound crazy," he chuckled.
"You woke up in a hotel room a few months ago, right?"
His eyes widened, "I thought I hooked up with someone," he said, "Wasn't sure, though, because I woke up alone."
"Sorry about that. I don't really do hook-ups, I kinda freaked out and bolted."
"I don't really do hook-ups either," he shrugged, "No hard feelings."
"Anyway, as I said, it turns out we got married that night."
"Wow. I honestly can't remember anything."
"Me neither," you shook your head, "And we can't get an annulment - the cut off is three months. And we were way too efficient with sending off the marriage registration - we did it immediately."
He hummed, "That's quite a predicament. Divorce, then?"
You nodded, "Yes, obviously. But that will take ages, and I'm trying to buy a house for myself right now. I need you to sign off that you have no claim over it."
"That's no problem," thank God he was agreeable, "But what's your name?"
"Y/N L/N," you said, "Well, legally Y/N Weasley."
The man smirked at you, which admittedly made your stomach flip. Drunk you definitely had good taste: this man was gorgeous.
"Where's the house you're buying?" he asked.
"Godric's Hollow."
"Ah, my sister lives there," he hummed, "Nice village."
"Can I ask you a question - since you're my husband and all?" you didn't know why you added the last bit.
"Fire away."
"Why does everyone keep going on about muggles and wizards and witches and magic? I'm so lost, I don't know what's happening."
"Wait- you're a muggle?"
"As everyone apparently keeps saying."
He chuckled, "Oh, wow. My wife's a muggle."
"What does it mean?"
"I'll explain," he gestured towards the door to the back room, "But it'll be a lot to take in."
"I don't care, I just want an explanation."
And so, your husband, George Weasley, explained about the wizarding world that he was a part of. And how, by marrying him, you had automatically been granted permission by the Ministry of Magic to be an exception for all anti-muggle charms. Which was why you discovered the road to Godric's Hollow all of a sudden as a non-magic person, which you learned was what muggle meant.
At the very end of his explanation, you sat back in the armchair he had offered to you, "That explains so much. It's insane- but I'm relieved that it's not me going crazy."
"Must be quite a shock," he hummed, "I can't believe we got married. Are there any photos?"
"I mean, I suppose we could find the chapel we got married at and ask."
"Maybe it will trigger some memories of that night. I got drunkenly married - who knows what else I did?" he sighed.
"I don't know if I want to know."
George shrugged, "Better to find out that way than have a random woman come into your place of work and announce she's your wife."
You grimaced, making him laugh.
"I'm just teasing."
"Can I get your number? So I can contact you when I need to?" you asked.
George stared at you, "Number?"
"How do wizards and witches communicate?" you exasperated.
"By owl."
You blanked.
"You might want to get yourself one if you're moving into a wizarding village."
"How do they know where to go?"
"They just do."
You sighed.
***
"So, I phoned the chapel that we got married at and they confirmed that we signed the marriage registration and sent it off immediately," you said to George, taking a seat opposite him in your flat that you currently resided in, "They also posted this to me." You presented a large envelope to your husband and watched as he carefully opened it - even though it was already unsealed thanks to you.
He pulled out a marriage certificate: lettered in italic gold writing and clearly signed on the bottom two corners. As he pulled that out, another piece of card fluttered to the ground. You chewed your lip as you watched him pick it up.
"Wow," was all he said.
It was the same reaction you had when looking upon the photo of you and George at the alter: lips pressed together with smiles creeping on to your faces.
"We look so happy."
You hummed, "The photo hasn't triggered any memories for me."
You watched curiously as he waved it about. "It's weird that muggle photos don't move," he commented, "But- yeah- I can't remember anything more either."
"Maybe it's been too long," you reasoned, "Perhaps if we'd seen the photo the day after, it would've helped."
"Probably," he shrugged, "I can find a charm or potion that will help us remember - if you want to."
It hadn't occurred to you that magic was now a readily available tool.
"I'm not sure, to be honest," you said after a while, "I just really want to seal the deal on my house."
George nodded, "Of course, I'll sign the papers saying I have no right to it."
"Thank you for making this so easy," you said, giving him a warm grin, "When I found out I was married, I was so worried it was to a complete asshole."
"When I found out I was married, I thought it was simply a cute way a gorgeous woman had of flirting with me."
You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his comment. George was a stunning man: his damaged ear only added a rugged element to him, enhancing his beauty in a way that you didn't know possible.
He noticed your flustered reaction and chuckled a bit, "However, there is one problem with me signing those papers that your real estate agent really should've mentioned."
"What?" you filled with worry: that house was your dream house.
"If you're buying a house in the wizarding world, you're going to need a wizarding bank account."
"He kept going on about galleons," you thought for a moment, "But then he converted to pounds so I didn't think much of it."
George hummed, "Yes, but you're still going to need to pay in galleons."
"How do I get a wizarding bank account?"
"Only wizards, witches, squibs and muggles married to any of the former can access one. Oh, and muggles with magic children, even if they aren't married."
You realised what he was getting at. "So I can get one, but..."
"But it has to be a shared one with me."
You pulled your hands down your face, "But I love that house so much."
"I promise you I'm not trying to trap you."
"No, no- I get it. I just- that means I'd have to stay married to you until my mortgage is paid off. And that takes like thirty years."
"Even then, the bills would still need to be paid in galleons."
"Oh, fuck," you muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
George watched you in silence.
"I'm sorry. I'll divorce you and forget about the house," you said eventually, "It's not fair for me to force you to stay in a marriage for the rest of your life - I mean, I can't force you."
"I didn't say anything about that."
You frowned. In your mind, there was no other option.
"I'm willing to do it."
"George, it's just a house, you really don't need to-"
"I will," he reiterated, "You realise that if you divorce me, you won't be able to access the magic world anymore?"
It had become something you were so excited to explore that you were disheartened by that fact.
"It would be cruel for me to take it away from you, I think."
"But-"
"So, I will set you up on my bank account, sign off on the house, and stay married to you."
Your mouth was opened wide as you stared at him, and in a flash you had leaped across the coffee table in order to pull him into a hug.
"You're so amazing," you mumbled, hugging him tighter as he returned the embrace, "Thank you so much."
"Hey, anything for my wife," he chuckled.
Your heart stopped.
***
"I've had to change my name on my driver's license and passport and bank account and everything else," you sighed, "Such a hassle for a fucking house."
George, who was walking with you throughout the empty house that you had just officially bought, chuckled, as he seemed to enjoy doing, "You must really love this place."
You shrugged, "The house, I would probably get over. An entire magical world that I would lose access to? Not so much."
He hummed, gazing around the place. You had decided that he at least deserved to see the property that he had given up so much for you to own.
"I can't wait to begin decorating," you sighed, "I have big plans for the downstairs rooms and the master bedroom."
"What about the other bedrooms?"
"I'm not sure, to be honest," you pondered, "I'll probably make one of them an office, but the other two, I honestly don't know. It'll be a while before I have any kiddly winks running around."
"How come?"
"I need to find a man to create them with first," you reminded, "And that will be especially complicated since I'm married."
"Not if it's with me."
You were pretty sure his words held a joking undertone, so you laughed.
"Well, I shan't keep you any longer," you said, "I guess we'll keep in touch?"
"Stop by my shop as much as you can," George replied, but you sensed a slight trace of sadness in his voice.
Nonetheless, you smiled, "Of course."
***
Was two days later too soon to take George up on his offer of stopping by? Maybe, but life was too short for you to not do the things that you wanted to do. Plus, you were exhausted from moving furniture and painting (since you were stuck doing it the 'muggle' way), so a getaway from your new home was needed.
After getting someone from the Leaky Cauldron to let you into Diagon Alley, you made your way down to the corner that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes sat on. You couldn't help the fond smile that tugged on your lips as you pushed open the door and heard the tinkle of the bell above you. The last time you were there, you had been too nervous about meeting your husband to properly appreciate the joyful buzz of the shop; it was truly a marvel to witness. You wish you had grown up with access to such extraordinary things.
"Hello," a redhead popped up beside you.
You jumped a little, not failing to notice the fact this man, although initially appearing to be George, had two full ears.
"Hello... Fred?" you attempted to recall his name.
He nodded, "I must say, I wasn't expecting my sister-in-law to pop by today."
It hadn't occurred to you that George would have mentioned his marriage to his twin brother, but now it seemed obvious that he would have.
"Is my husband here?" you asked, adding a joking undertone. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but notice how warm saying that made you feel.
"Of course, he's out back."
"Should I...?" you trailed off.
"You don't need to ask permission to go out back," he chuckled, in a strikingly similar way to George, "You're married to one of the owners."
"Yeah, but-" but before you could finish your sentence, your brother-in-law had disappeared. With a sigh, you proceeded on your way to the staff-only space, unable to push aside how special you felt being able to freely enter the area.
It was only when you caught sight of George's back did you realise that you had nothing to say and had simply stopped by.
"Y/N!" he smiled, turning around upon sensing your presence, "What brings you here?"
You shrugged, "You said to stop by often."
His grin stretched wider, "That I did, I'm glad to see you."
You felt shy after hearing him say that, and avoided eye contact.
"How's moving in going?"
"Oh- well. Exhausting, though," you sighed.
"I can't imagine having to do everything without magic," he said, "If you want any help to speed up the process, I'm more than willing."
You shook your head, "You've done enough for me."
"I could never do enough for you," he half-mumbled, but you heard it. You couldn't believe it, but you heard it. "I'm free this weekend," he said at a more regular volume.
"I mean- if you're sure-"
"Of course I'm sure."
"I-" you stopped yourself, "Thank you, George."
"Georgie!" a voice called from the front of the shop, not long before a short plump woman appeared in the doorway. "There you are," she said with hands on her hips.
"Oh, hi, mum," he said, "I wasn't expecting you."
"I was just in town looking to pick up your father a new shirt - I don't know how he wears them out so quickly!" she sighed, "I thought I'd take the chance to invite you over for a roast on Sunday."
You smiled at the evidently kind woman.
"And who is this?" she asked.
"This is Y/N."
"How did you two meet?" this time she had a glint in her eye.
"Uh, funny story, actually," George scratched the back of his head, "We're married."
You were surprised at his honesty with his mother.
The woman's eyes widened, "And you didn't tell me!"
"No one knew, mum- not even us," he quickly added.
She seemed to ignore what the last part of his statement implied, and swooped you into her arms, "Welcome to the family, my dear, we have a lot of time to make up for! You'll be coming on Sunday too, yes?"
She didn't give you a chance to reply.
"I'll have to tell your father immediately - do all your siblings know? I expect Fred does. Probably Ron too." She paused, "I haven't even introduced myself! Molly Weasley - call me Molly, of course."
"Mum-"
"Godric- I have so many people to tell! I'll see you both Sunday at four o'clock, please don't be late."
And with a hug to both of you, Molly Weasley departed just as rapidly as she had arrived.
"I'm sorry about that- my mum can be very full on," George apologised.
"I think she's sweet."
A soft smile graced his face, "Yes, she's a very lovely woman."
You hummed.
"I'll get you out of the dinner."
You frowned, "Why?"
"Well, my family will think you're- well-"
With a shrug, you replied, "I don't mind."
"I have a big family."
"I know."
"Most of them are quite loud people."
"That's okay."
"They'll ask a lot of questions."
"George, I want to meet your family," you realised as soon as you said them what your words could potentially mean.
"It's just- I- I don't want them to scare you away."
"Scare me away?"
He nodded.
You chuckled, "I'd like to see them try."
***
Sunday rolled around quickly, and as promised, George showed up at your house to pick you up at five to four. You figured that his parents must live very nearby if he was picking you up so late, but you hadn't given it much thought. All you had done was focused on yourself, dressing up what you deemed the adequate amount for a family event.
A knock sounded on the door, and you quickly rushed to open it, smiling when you were faced with the red headed man that you could call your husband. He was wearing a knitted jumper and baggy jeans, which was a relief to you since you also sported a knitted jumper, just with a skirt instead.
"Hello," you said, almost shyly.
"Hey," he replied, "You ready to go?"
"Yep, let me just-" you hurried back inside to grab the bouquet of flowers that you had bought for his mother, you weren't familiar with the guidelines for meeting family as you had never been in a relationship long enough to reach that stage, but flowers had felt like the right thing.
"Oh, for me?" he said teasingly.
You shook your head, dramatically holding them away from him, "You would be so lucky."
He chuckled, "Right, let's get going," he held out his arm for you to take, "You're gonna want to hold tight."
You frowned, but took his advice nonetheless, taking a firm grip of his bicep which had a hardness that made your heart flip. But before you could dwell on that thought, you felt like you had been sucked into a vacuum and spat out again in a split second. Your stomach cramped up and you felt nauseous as you fell on to grass in a completely new location.
"Sorry, that often happens the first time," George quickly helped you up along with the flowers, which thankfully were unharmed.
"Did we just- teleport?" you asked, holding your stomach. Thankfully, the nausea was already dissipating.
"We call it apparating but yes, we did."
"Why couldn't I be born a witch?" you whined, following George as he began walking up the path ahead of you.
You could only be amazed when the strangest house that you had ever seen came into view: looking like it should tumble over instantly with the mismatched extensions stacked on top of each other. Not too long ago, you would have been worried about its sketchy looking state, but now you immediately concluded that it was kept steady by magic. Even at the distance you still were from the house, you could hear a lot of noise coming from it.
"I bet you anything Fleur and Hermione insisted on being early," George grumbled, "Making my brothers look like angelic sons."
You smiled to yourself: his relationship with his siblings was making you want to reach out to your sister.
George didn't bother knocking when you reached the door, simply throwing it open and grinning at everyone who was stood around the kitchen. You couldn't help but feel some level of nerves as you were faced with so many strangers.
"George! Y/N!" Molly beamed, pulling you both into a hug, "I'm so glad that you could make it."
You presented the flowers to her, "I got you these."
"Oh, they're gorgeous!"
You watched as she pulled out her wand and arranged them in a vase without even using her hands. You didn't think observing magic would ever get old.
"Thank you, dear," she said, before turning to the others in the room. There was Ron, who you vaguely recognised from the shop, with a curly brown-haired woman on his side. Then there was the most ethereal woman that you had ever seen next to one of the more rugged looking men that you had seen in your time. There was also an older, balding, red headed man, who you suspected to be George's father.
"Y/N, you might remember Ron here," George said, and you nodded, "And this is his fiancée, Hermione. This is my dad, and over there is my oldest brother, Bill, and his wife, Fleur."
"Our little shit of a son is running around here somewhere," Bill added.
"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N," George's father shook your hand, "You can call me Arthur."
"I didn't realise you were bringing a guest, George," Hermione said.
"Oh, she's no guest," Molly smiled, "She's family."
The only person who didn't exchange confused glances was Ron.
"I'm his, uh, wife," you said, feeling awkward. You didn't really want to say it, because it felt like you were lying to them even though you weren't.
What followed was an array of congratulations, and Hermione accusing Ron of not telling her when he clearly already knew. And then, upon being asked, you both finally revealed that it was an accidental marriage upon which you were both very drunk. Molly was new to this news as well, but nonetheless, before you could give any more detail on where your 'relationship' with George currently stood, she spoke.
"As irresponsible as that was, I think there's something beautiful in the fact that you're now happily married."
While you weren't unhappily married, you didn't know how to say that you didn't know you were married until a couple months later, and that you weren't in a relationship with George. He said nothing to clarify, either.
That was when a small boy tumbled into the room.
"Ah, zis is Victoire," Fleur said, "Our son."
He was just as red headed as his father.
God, your kids with George would probably end up redheaded.
You internally froze at that thought - why had it seemed so natural to imagine yourself having kids with George?
You were yet again distracted from your mind, as seemed common in the Weasley household, when more people arrived. It was Fred and his fiancée, Angelina, as you soon learned. Shortly followed by Harry Potter, allegedly quite a celebrity, who was dating George's only sister, Ginny.
The only person to arrive alone was Percy, who had a much less chaotic energy than the rest of his siblings.
"You'll meet Charlie at some point," Molly said to you, "But he lives in Romania for his work with dragons."
It was insane to you that George had five brothers and one sister; having six siblings seemed like such a hectic upbringing. That thought almost led you to brush over Molly's mention of dragons - dragons?
Once again, you were introduced as George's wife, solidifying you in their eyes as a sister-in-law. These were your in-laws, you realised.
"Dinner's almost ready," Molly announced over the noise of all the people.
Many people rushed forward to help the woman with the finishing touches and laying the table, and you felt like an ass for not assisting as well, but you would have been of no help. They were all using magic, which was ten times faster than you could complete any task.
"What year did you graduate school? I can't remember you," Ginny said, evidently assuming that her lack of recognition was because you had been in a different year at Hogwarts from her. George had told you how most witches and wizards in a similar age group knew each other because of there only being one magic school in the country.
"I didn't go to Hogwarts," you said.
"Oh, did you study abroad?" she asked, walking over to the table with you.
"No, uh, I'm a- I'm a muggle."
Her eyes widened in realisation, "Oh! I see," she hummed, "That makes sense now that I think about it."
"You're a muggle?" Hermione, who had overheard, said.
You nodded.
"I'm muggle-born," she said, "I was raised muggle."
"I was raised muggle too," Harry added on, "But I'm not muggle-born."
After that point, Arthur Weasley kept posing an array of questions to you, explaining that he was fascinated by muggles, and it was even what had led him to having the job that he did. Wanting to be liked, you answered all his questions as best as you could, and found his childlike curiosity quite endearing.
"Leave the poor girl alone, Arthur," Molly scolded her husband.
"I don't mind," you replied, and, really, you didn't.
The food was absolutely delicious, to the point you almost moaned when you first put it in your mouth. You didn't think you had ever eaten such delectable food before, and you made sure that Molly knew.
Once the first course was finished and dessert was being brought out, Bill and Fleur stood up.
"We have an announcement to make," the latter smiled, looking to her husband.
"Fleur's pregnant," Bill grinned, placing his hand on her abdomen.
"Oh, that's wonderful news!" Molly exclaimed, "How far along?"
"Twelve weeks, two days ago," Fleur said, "In ze clear zone, as zey say."
"We don't know the gender yet," Bill added.
"For your sake I hope it's a girl," Molly sighed, "It took me six tries."
"We will be happy eizer way," Fleur said simply.
You couldn't help but get the sense there was some level of tension between her and Molly, so you leaned over to George as everyone began chatting again, congratulating the expecting couple.
"Do your mum and Fleur get along?" you whispered.
"Well, yes, but they haven't always," he whispered back, "My mum thought she was vain at first, even thinking that she would call off the wedding when Bill got that scar." He was referring to the large mark on his eldest brother's face.
You hummed.
"They've mostly resolved their problems now, but I think there will always be a bit of tension."
After dinner, you wandered around the home, observing all the moving pictures of the family.
"Aw, you were so cute back then," you said to George, looking at a photo of him as a toddler on a mini broomstick.
"Are you saying I'm not anymore?"
You shrugged.
"And how do you know that's me and not Fred?"
"You may be a twin, but there's only one of you, George," you said in passing, not realising how much those words meant to your husband. As much as he loved being an identical twin, there were times where he didn't want to be seen as part of a package deal. Even his mother struggled to tell him and Fred apart before his ear injury, but you- you could recognise him instantly.
Your gaze moved up the wall.
"That's an interesting clock."
It didn't tell the time, but instead had a hand for all of Molly and Arthur's brood, all currently pointing in the direction of 'home' apart from who must be Charlie, which pointed at work.
"Even on Sundays, he works," George sighed, "You know, there was a time where me and Fred had the same hand."
"Really?"
"Yeah, but after he moved in with Angelina, mum had it altered."
Your eyes flicked over the 'mortal peril' section of the clock, and you didn't realise you had read it aloud til he responded.
"Thankfully that hasn't served a purpose since the war."
It was unbelievable to you that such a life-changing war had happened while you remained completely oblivious.
"I suppose we'll have to expand the guest list for our wedding," Angelina approached you, making you turn away from the clock.
"Oh, you don't have to do that," you said.
"No, no. An extra person is hardly anything," she smiled, "You're family, of course you're coming."
Family.
"Well, thank you."
"Of course."
***
As you and George said your goodbyes and departed, you couldn't help but let out an elated sigh, "Your family is so warm."
He smiled, "I'm glad you like them."
"They're like, everything I want my in-laws to be."
"Really?"
"Yeah! Loud, happy, there for each other - with the slightest hint of drama, of course. They're perfect."
"We've been through a lot together."
"Yeah, I expect so."
You both fell into a comfortable silence, one that had you feeling content with your life in the most heart-warming way.
"You ready to apparate again?" George broke the silence when you reached the end of the path.
"As ready as I'll ever be," you grasped his arm tightly, prepping yourself for what was to come.
You didn't fall to the ground this time when you appeared outside your house, but you did still feel nauseous for a few moments.
"I'm really glad you came," George said.
"I'm glad too," you smiled.
And then there was silence - tension-filled silence. The kind of silence that led up to what you had secretly hoped would happen this entire time.
His lips on yours.
You moved your hands up to his hair as the kiss got more heated, flashes of memories dancing through your brain.
You met at the bar your cousin's bachelorette party was at, and began chatting. He was charming, and funny, and you were both really drunk. You went on a walk together - you walked past a chapel.
You had suggested getting married - jokingly, but he had then said.
"Why don't we?"
And so you did, giggling and laughing the entire time, even when you kissed. The kiss held the same magical feeling as it did now, that's what had triggered the memory.
He had kissed all along your jaw and neck as you both filled out the forms, and it wasn't long before you both booked a hotel and by all technical terms, consummated.
"I remember," you parted from him breathlessly, only to kiss him again.
"Me too," he mumbled, pushing you back against your front door.
"Do you want to come in?" you asked.
***
This time, you were the one to wake up alone in bed, but that wasn't the only difference. You remembered every single moment and sensation from the night before - and from your wedding night, for that matter. A smile almost crept on to your face, but it dropped when the panic set in that George had upped and left like you had before. You scrambled out of bed, pulling a shirt and some pants on, and then rushed down the stairs to see if he was anywhere in your house.
And he was.
There your husband was, in the kitchen, cooking a full English breakfast - using magic, of course. You had electric appliances installed when you moved in, since most magic homes didn't generally possess them, but with George there, you supposed they weren't really necessary.
"Hey, love."
Love. That's what he had called you all of last night and your wedding night.
It made heat travel to your ears.
"Hi," you replied shyly.
"Take a seat, I'm almost finished."
You obeyed, deciding to let the wizard take care of you, even though he really had done too much for you ever since you met him - the second time, that was.
Your dining table was a temporary one, as your entire home was still a work in progress: it wasn't easy decorating an entire house by yourself, especially without the assistance of magic. Nevertheless, it did the job. George came over with the food and sat opposite you, gesturing for you to dig in.
"Thank you," you smiled, picking up the cutlery.
"I told you, anything for you."
"You're too perfect," you mumbled, making George chuckle.
"My ear may be injured, but my hearing's fine."
You looked up at him to make eye contact, feeling like he could read you with his gaze, "Your ear makes you even more perfect."
"I'm glad you think so, would be a bit upsetting for me if you didn't."
"I aim to please," you grinned.
***
"You didn't tell me the wedding would be quite so soon," you huffed, straightening out the pastel pink dress you adorned in the mirror.
George shrugged, tightening his tie, "Didn't think about it."
You were, of course, in reference to Angelina and Fred's wedding, merely two weeks after the dinner in which you met the former. Out of all the moving boxes you still had left to unpack, you had been forced to dig for a suitable outfit that fitted the colour scheme.
Aside from work, you and George had been practically glued at the hip in the days since he first stayed at yours - and he had been consistently staying at yours ever since. He had probably spent about three nights total at his own flat in that time span. So much to the point that when he came over the day prior, he had brought his suit for the wedding with him, fully anticipating that he would be spending the night.
You hadn't put a label on what you currently were, other than legally married, as it was.
"We have to be early," he said, "Since I'm the best man."
"I'm aware," you replied, sitting on the edge of your bed to pull your shoes on, "I'm pretty much ready."
"Alright, let's go."
***
The ceremony was a beautiful occasion: held at the Weasley house, The Burrow. The entire garden was decorated beautifully in shades of pink, purple and white, with bouquets of flowers adorning every table and chair. Obviously, a drastic difference from your own wedding.
You were sat in the crowd while George was up near the altar with the maid of honour, but he was not your focus. Angelina was a transcendent bride.
When it came to the meal, you were - to your shock - sat on the primary table where the newly weds were. You supposed that it made sense, since George was obviously going to be sat by his twin brother, and you were his wife. Generally, married couples weren't separated at events. You were certainly relieved, since you hardly knew anybody else.
The only other people on the main table were Molly, Arthur, Angelina's parents, and Angelina's maid of honour and her partner. There was a second table for the rest of the Weasley siblings and their partners, and so on and so forth for more distant relatives and friends.
Once the toasts were made, the meal commenced, and you hadn't realised how hungry you were 'til that moment.
"Slow down, love," your husband commented, "I'd prefer if you didn't choke."
You shrugged, your mouth full. Once you had eventually swallowed, you said, "Much grander event than our wedding."
"We could always renew our vows," he said, and even though he had made many comments about wanting to do anything for you, and had done many intimate things to you in the bedroom (and elsewhere in your house, for that matter), it felt like the first real confirmation that you were in a relationship. Even more, that you weren't just in a marriage out of convenience, but instead because you simply wanted to be.
You parted your mouth to reply, when some children from Angelina's side began causing chaos by running around. "Lord, our kids better behave," you muttered.
George turned to look at you, and it was then that you became aware of what you had said.
"Our kids?" he was grinning.
"Shut up," you mumbled.
"Never - just let me know when you want to start, love," he winked at you.
"A bit too soon, I think."
He shrugged, "We got married within a few hours of knowing each other."
"We were drunk."
"We can get drunk again."
You sighed, "We don't even live together."
"I can move in."
You didn't have anymore rebuttals.
"Are you out of arguments now?" he asked.
You reluctantly nodded.
"Perfect."
***
Instead of apparating directly to your house, you and George decided to take a late night walk around Godric's Hollow. It was such a pretty village, and you had yet to appreciate its beauty in the dark, with all the magical lamps glowing around you. But, you knew that you and George needed to have a conversation, especially after the kids talk from earlier.
"Are we together?" you asked him, even though your interlocked hands should have answered the question.
"We're married, love."
"Yes, but are we together?"
"I'd like to think we are - do you?"
You remained silent for a few moments, before nodding and looking at him in the darkness of the night.
"Then there you have it."
"I just don't get why."
"Why what?"
"Why you've done so much for me when you hardly knew me."
George chuckled, "I admit, I don't know exactly when I made the decision to do anything for you, but when you strutted into my shop, determined as ever, and announced that you were my wife, I just-" he paused, squeezing your hand, "You looked so cute and I knew- in that moment- that I would never meet someone else like you."
You felt like you were melting on the spot.
"It may have seemed selfless that I helped you get the house - but, to be honest, it was the perfect excuse for me to trap you to me- make it easier for me to pursue you, that is."
"I love you, George," you sighed.
"I'm glad, because I've loved you for quite some time now."
"Love at first sight?"
"You would be so lucky."
You let out a childish giggle at that.
"But, yes, I think it was."
——————————————————
masterlist
written; 18/08/2023 —> 03/09/2023
published;04/09/2023
edited; —/—/——
#harry potter#hp oneshot#hp#hp fanfic#harry potter oneshot#harry potter fanfic#fluff#george weasley x reader#george weasley x y/n#george weasley x you#george weasley oneshot#george weasley#weasley#weasley twins#muggle reader#feminine pronouns#comedy#accidental marriage#marriage of convenience#strangers to lovers
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