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artytaeh · 1 month

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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?

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luv4freddie · 4 months

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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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cherryslyce · 1 year

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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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thefiery-phoenix · 1 month

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PLATONIC YANDERE WEASLEY FAMILY HEADCANONS

They're very protective of each other, that's for sure. Molly might be the first one to meet you, or the Weasley children at Hogwarts. Heck, you might not even be related to the Weasleys and they'll still think of you as one of their own when they see the chance to make you theirs for good, you're just too naive and innocent for this world. And no doubt Harry and Hermione would play roles in helping them with their obsession with you as well since they are yanderes for you after all

Arthur would LOVE to talk to you about your knowledge of Muggles if you know about them that is. But don't worry, there are still plenty of other things he'd LOVE to talk to you about. It's actually kind of nice and adorable seeing him get so excited whenever you bring up the topic of Muggles, the way his eyes shine and light up with excitement like as if he's some sort of kid in a toy shop. But Molly has to be there to rein him in in case he makes you feel too overwhelmed with his questions. Arthur doesn't care if you're pure blood, related to them or not, half blood, muggle or heck even if your dad is Voldy himself. Unless of course, you're good. He'll still look after you like his own and care for you, and of course, keep you far far away from the prying eyes of the evil Malfoys and dangerous things like Death Eaters and concerning yourself with the activities of the Dark Lord

Bill is the chill and easy going brother who'll understand how you're feeling since he's a pro at it and he's also the oldest Weasley, he's the brother to 6 siblings of his. He's a good listener and always has good advice for you whenever you need to ask him about something and he'll also love it if you talk to him about his work and stuff. And he'll also tell Fred and George to lay back off a bit if their pranks become too much to which they'll apologize instantly. They would never think of hurting you, not even in their worst nightmares. And if you were brought into their family by force, he'll know how you're feeling and he'll make sure to always be there for you no matter what. Oh, and no dating, NONE of the Weasleys would ever allow you to date someone at all. Nope, you're their precious little baby and they don't want some riff raff tainting your innocence

Molly is a really coddling and protective yandere for you. She'll always make you nice hot lunches and meals when you need them, she'll always give you the comfort and love you need from a mother and of course, she'll get jealous when you talk about your past family. You just can't seem to hate her no matter what since she's being so nice to you, hating her would literally be a crime. She looks after you so well and that's actually part of a plan she has in mind. Oh, yeah, she's crafty too. She wants to win over your love and affection by doing these sweet things and all that, but she does truly genuinely care for you. And if you ever mention the name of someone you like, I seriously pray for that poor schmuck, be it boy or girl since I believe in gender equality lol

Charlie loves you as well and he's the adorable nerd, who'll like talking to you about dragons and stuff. Like Bill he's also laid back and easy going, and trying to make you feel more comfortable with the family. He'll tell you funny stories from his time in Romania, some of the hilarious things his brothers and sisters have done, their embarrassing stories and stuff that'll be sure to have a smile on your face. He would literally cry if you wanted to enter his field, he'd be so freaking happy and pleased, no doubt he'd actually say "IN YOUR FACE!" to the rest lol

Percy Weasley is the uptight stick in the mud, the spoilsport and sometimes the killjoy but he truly does want what's best for you despite him being arrogant and pompous. He tries to be a good example for people and his family but it's frustrating when no one follows him or even strives to be like him. He'll try to get you under his wing before the twins try corrupting you. He'll help you with your homework, ask you how your day is going and if anyone's bothering you, he'll teach them a lesson. He knows he isn't supposed to use his status as Headboy for personal reasons but he won't tolerate it if someone decided to make his sibling feel bad about something. And if you guys are at Hogwarts, he'll make his duty to check in on you every single freaking day and act like some sort of pompous watchdog for you

The fun loving Weasley twins, who love pranking you and the others, but will never go too far with their pranks for you since they would never want to see you cry. They're the best to come to when you're having a bad day or when you feel like crying. In which case they'll cheer you up by some of their pranks and make you laugh since they can't stand to see you cry and be sad. And as for the person whoever made the mistake of making you sad... they'll be on the wrong end of their pranks and NO ONE, I repeat NO ONE wants to be on the wrong end of their pranks, trust me on this. And they'll even take your opinion for their products at their joke shop Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes, and go as far as naming something after you and giving you some of their stuff for free, low prices or discounts ESPECIALLY for you. Lol, they'd just rub it in Ron's face and he'd so freaking jealous

Ron would be the really overprotective type for you. Normally the Weasleys are just over protective of you but he's INSANELY over protective. And it's mentioned in canon too that he's really protective over Ginny when she starts dating Terry Boot, Dean and Harry. And if you think he's bad there, he's WAY worse when you're concerned since the way he sees it is NO ONE is worthy of being your s/o, you're the baby of the family and he will NOT allow someone to ruin you. He'll love to talk about Quidditch with you and maybe even show off some of his flying skills to you, to impress you. And he will not think twice to defend you if some prat like Malfoy decides to be a prick to you, and what'll make his blood boil even more is if Malfoy decides to take an interest in you. In which case the entire Gryffindor house would have to get involved in trying to hold him, the Weasley twins and Percy from literally punching the hell out of him. And of course, with the help of his trust y friends Harry and Hermione they follow you with the Marauder's map and keep tabs on what you're doing just for your safety of course

And last but not the least, Ginny, the youngest of the family but knows how to get something when she wants it. And that includes your attention. She's kinda crafty and demands for your attention regularly. And she will snatch you up like some feather if you're spending time with someone else, except for Molly of course. NO ONE has the guts to dare to go against Molly lol. And of course, she'll introduce you to Luna and even Luna would turn out to be very protective over you. For someone who looks so innocent and calm like her, she does know how to get rid of people who bother you and make you sad. There's always someone watching you no matter what, be it a Weasley, a Granger, a Potter, or a Lovegood... they're all there for you and they're at the back of you, scaring people off who they don't like seeing close to you since all they want is the best for you, that's all. They might not have much, but they have family and it's home...

#platonic yandere weasley family #platonic yandere weasley family x reader #platonic yandere weasley family scenarios #platonic yandere weasley family headcanons #platonic yandere weasley family imagines #platonic yandere weasley family oneshots #platonic yandere molly weasley #yandere arthur weasley x reader #yandere percy weasley x reader #yandere weasley twins x reader #yandere ron weasley x reader #yandere ginny #yandere harry potter scenarios #yandere harry potter #dark harry potter characters x reader #dark harry potter characters #yandere harry potter imagines #yandere harry potter characters #yandere harry potter x reader

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elisedonut · 7 months

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I don't know the right word for this and I don't feel like researching but I think Percy would be very good at like fake lying

What I mean is I think his family(and so by extension a lot of people) think(s) he's a horrible liar and he uses it to his advantage at times even though in reality he's actually really good at it

So like for example Fred and George could be chasing someone through the halls and Percy just hides them in like a cupboard or a random room when they run into them and then easily is able to convince the twins that instead the person went through that secret passageway across the hall without ever even saying that they did just by claiming he didn't see them and only barely glancing at the passageway

And the twins don't even realize he lead them astray and just assume they lost the person

#percy weasley #could he also just lie outright? Sure #but in this scenario in my head it was a situation where Percy wouldn't want the twins to find them so they would be suspicious of that #Also this is so specific #im having thoughts again though so that good my brain was very foggy for awhile there

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slayingqueenchal · 1 year

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fred x dyslexic reader

the reader in having a hard time in english( reading something) and fred helps

I just got diagnosed and wanted comfort

Here, ill help you | fred weasley x f!dyslexic!reader

Summary : you had a hard time reading so fred helps you read

Warning : fluff, petnames like 'love'

Notes : im not diagnosed with dyslexia but I'm sure I'm dyslexic, and also my cousin was diagnosed with dyslexia so this is inspired by her chats 😭😭

"Freddie, how in the world did laurie felt to the right? " You said, sighing at your beaten up copy of little women.

Fred moves his chair closer to yours, and said "love, laurie fell to the right" Leaving you with an oh.

That was the first time you Were bad at reading. You couldve swore that it said laurie felt to the right, but, when Fred reads it, it suddenly changes.

This also happens in class quite often, which snape loves. Snape love making fun of you reading the wrong thing, and he purposely make you read the most.

Sure most people are fine with it, but, you've mistaken words so much that when Snape makes fun of you, the whole class laughed ; except for Fred.

Even if Fred's a bit annoyed, he'll be nice. It became a common thing, that Fred sit next to you, and when you were told to read, he whispers what the book says.

Some muggleborns told you that you were what muggle call dyslexic,

"Dys- Dys what? " You said, "dyslexia, it's when.. Someone have a hard time reading, even in their first language" The muggleborn said.

That day on, you've learnt to accept it. But sometimes it can be tough.

"Fred, are you seeing this, meg is eating.. The desert? " You said, showing him your book. "Love.." Fred chuckles, "it's meg eating dessert, you know, the cakes and the ice creams? " .

"Oh" You realized. It was always the words being.. Magic? Once someone sees it it's different. But, Fred is fine with it. And, most of the time you give up reading any book, but, Fred makes you a little study and reading session, because the girl who told you you were dyslexic told him you were dyslexic. Although Fred doesn't know what dyslexia is, he cared for you, and he proved it.

Every evening, Fred reads you everything you're going to learn tommorow. "So, you need one vial of-- love? " He said, looking at you.

Your soft snores, and closed eyes, were beautiful to him. "Someone is sleepy" Fred grins, "I love you"

",'ove 'ou too" You snuggled up in his hands, ready to sleep.

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i-love-oliverwood · 1 year

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THE NIGHT WE MET || FRED WEASLEY

NOT MY GIF

warnings- sad, maybe cursing?, and mentions of death

summary- reader is still struggling two years after fred weasley her boyfriend passed away.

-Your Pov-

Take me back to the night we met

It's been officially two years since the love of my life passed away. Fred Weasley... the boy who always knew how to put a smile on my face, the boy who made me feel unstoppable, the boy I loved so so much, it hurt. And now he's gone. That smile, that laugh, the way he held me, his voice, they way he would tell me he loved me, and his kisses. All gone.

George, Ron, and Molly did everything to get me out of my room. Godric, it's been two years and I'm still sulking. George has been too but he's finally starting to leave his room. I couldn't do it. I can't.

There was a knock on my door, "Sweetheart? Are you awake?" It was Molly. Molly has been way too good to me. After my parents had died when I was fourteen, she took me in, knowing how much Fred loved me. I am now 22 and still living with her. I felt so guilty, she doesn't have the heart to kick me out. I felt like such a burden. What's the point of living without Fred?

"Yeah." I spoke up. She creaked the door open, her heart breaking slightly to see me still wrapped up in bed. Wearing Fred's sweater that I haven't took off unless it needed to be washed. His t-shirts spread out all over my room, I can't let him go. They were losing his scent, it felt like the last thing I had of him. But now all I smell is me.

"Honey... you should get up." She sat on the edge of my bed.

I sat up, "Molly... I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"You have to live on for him." She weakly smiled, "It's what he would have wanted. I know you two loved each other so much and this is incredibly difficult. But it's been two years, sweetheart. He would hate to see you still hurting like this."

"I can't get over it." I shook my head, my voice cracking from being silent for so long, "I just want to see him again. Tell him how much I love him. I want to feel him next to me again. I want to hear that goddamn laugh of his again. I want him to tell me everything is gonna be okay."

"I know, I know." Tears filled her eyes, "He's looking down at you, I know it. He's probably aching to see you this way. I might not be Fred but everything is gonna be okay. It might not feel like that right now but you will see him again someday. Just live your life for him, it's want he would have wanted."

"I'm sorry, Molly." I wiped my tears away, "You don't deserve to be taking care of someone like me. I'm 22 for crying out loud and I can't get out of bed."

"You meant a lot to Fred, which means you mean a lot to me. You had a terrible thing happen to you, I'll take care of you for as long as you need." She smiled softly and stood up, leaving me in the room alone.

I curled back up in my bed. And I slowly drifted back to sleep.

I was woken up when I felt an indent on my bed, telling me someone had just sat down. I rolled over to see that ginger hair that I loved so much.

"Hello, love." Fred smiled, making me jump out of my bed.

"How... What?"

"I'm apart of your memories." He caressed my cheek, he was cold. And this was definitely all in my head but it felt so real.

"Oh Freddie." I tackled him into a hug. "I miss you so so much."

"I know." He held onto me tightly, "I miss you so much more."

After a few moments of hugging, I sat down next to him. I couldn't take my eyes away from him, it was like he was really right next to me.

"You should listen to my Mum." He sighed, "She's right. I don't want you sulking like this for me."

"You were my only purpose, Freddie. Without you, I just feel so lost."

"I need you to live on for me. You know I love you, and I know you love me. I can't have you throw away the rest of your life away for me. It hurts to see you hurting like this, love."

"I've been searching for a trail to follow again. But there's nothing. It's you, I need to be with you again. Just take me back to the night we met."

"Believe it or not, you can do this without me. Just know, I'll always be keeping an eye on you. I will see you again one day just remember that." He grinned, "I don't want you to think you can't move on from me. If you find someone who makes you as happy as you made me, go for it. I'm sorry that our time was cut short."

The thought of being with anyone else makes me ill, "I can't stop thinking about that night, Freddie. I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. I can’t get your face out of my head, the night was filled with terrors, and your eyes were filled with tears."

"Don't think about that, love. Remember the night we met. That's something worth remembering." He smiled softly, cupping my cheek.

"Oh, take me back to the night we met." I cried and held onto his hand as he slowly faded away. Hot tears fell down my face, it was such a short conversation. I'm haunted by the ghost of you.

He's gone, he's really gone. And that's what really just sunk in. Going against Fred's wishes, when he's dead, seemed selfish. I need to live my life for him, and that's going to start now.

#fred weasley #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter imagine #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley smut #fred weasley scenario

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waternilly · 2 years

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Don't Be Afraid of Being Hurt

Fandom: Harry Potter Ship: George Weasley x Reader (Gender, Race & House neutral) Word count: 1.5k Warnings: Angst (no happy ending, just angst) A/N at the end of the text

The Yule Ball was a time to celebrate, dance, sing, and enjoy life for everyone present. But to you, the Yule Ball was your worst nightmare. It had barely been sixteen days since you had your heart broken by the one person you never thought would be able to do this.

You had loved George Weasley dearly, although secretly. His mere presence in a room was enough to make it shine brighter. He always had the words to comfort you, to make you laugh, to change your mind. He gave the tightest bear hugs and the softest forehead kisses.

But it had all abruptly come to an end.

He had asked someone else out to the Yule Ball.

She had said yes.

Then you had been asked out by someone else.

And you had said yes too.

You had avoided him since, despite usually always being attached to his hip.

Now that the ball was mere hours away, you did not know what to do anymore. Would you have the strength to go, and face him? Would you even be able to enjoy yourself? All you could think about was George and this beautiful girl he had asked out slow dancing together. What a shame it would be for your date, and you, if you spent the entire night on the edge of a breakdown because of this.

Letting your head fall into an open book, you sighed deeply. The library was thankfully almost empty, so no one could see your despair. And even if they did, they could easily assume it regarded one homework or the other.

"You okay there?"

Looking up, you recognised Angelina, and smiled at her.

"Hey," you muttered.

She offered you a sympathetic smile and sat down in front of you.

"What's up?" she whispered.

"Nothing, I..."

You let out another deep sigh. How silly of you to lie. Who would buy that you were doing just fine? Especially not someone like Angelina, who was one of your closer friends.

"I'm just nervous about tonight," you explained.

"So is everyone else, you know?" she reassured you. "But we're gonna have a great time, okay? We both got a cute date, we have our friends and we're gonna look smoking hot."

You reciprocated her smile, amused. It was true that Elian, the Durmstrang boy who had asked you out, was really good looking. You had gotten to interact with him quite a few times leading up to the ball, and there was no doubt he would also amuse and entertain you.

"Thank you," you whispered.

"No need."

And with that Angelina walked away.

Despite her comforting words, you could still feel your stomach tingle as the beginning of the ball approached. You tried your best to distract yourself with homework, with a walk on the school grounds, with some singing to yourself. None of it worked for very long however. You could not ignore the pit in your stomach, the best you could do was live with it.

About two hours before the ball were to begin, you went back to your common room. You did not hurry, calmly taking a shower, getting dressed and taking care of any other details, like perfume.

You finished early, but by the end of the entire process, you were the most relaxed you had been all day. The thought of crossing George at the Yule Ball still made your stomach tingle, but at least you felt confident and appeased.

When the time came, you left the common room in company of some classmates and made your way to the Great Hall.

As you walked down the stairs, you met Elian's gaze. His face lit up as he looked at you. He was pleasing to the eyes himself, dressed in one of the elegant red uniforms that all the students from Durmstrang seemed to be wearing.

Once you reached the last step, he presented his arm to you. You accepted without a second thought.

"You look beautiful," he praised.

You thanked him and returned the compliment.

"Fancy seeing you here, Y/N," a voiced piped up from behind you.

You turned to see Angelina, holding onto Fred's arm, walking over to the two of you.

After exchanging the expected compliments that would come with an evening such as this one, Angelina kindly asked you:

"How are you feeling?"

"A lot better," you admitted.

"Was something wrong?" Elian asked.

"Nothing to worry about," you told him. "I was just nervous about tonight, but I am not anymore."

He smiled at you and you mirrored him.

At that moment, you were called to enter the Great Hall, as the champions were about to open the ball. Angelina and Fred led the way, followed closely by you and Elian.

You heard Angelina ask Fred: "Where is your brother?"

"He is with his date, we'll meet them back inside."

The mention of George with his date made your throat tighten, but you quickly gulped to get rid of the feeling.

The champions had opened the ball, elegantly waltzing in the middle of the crowd. Soon enough, they were joined by various teachers and students.

"May I have this dance?" Elian asked, extending his arm out for you once more.

You did not hesitate.

He turned out to be quite the dance partner too, leading you gracefully on the dancefloor.

You smiled. Genuinely. You were having an amazing time.

When the music came to an end, Elian surprised you by placing a kiss on your hand before escorting you off the dancefloor.

You exchanged a few drinks with friends, chatting eagerly about their outfits, the decorations, the music.

Suddenly, a guitar riff resonated throughout the Great Hall. It seemed the rumors had been true. Dumbledore had indeed booked the Weird Sisters for the Yule Ball.

Everyone rushed back in front of the stage. You jumped and danced and shouted. You were spending a way better evening than you had anticipated.

But as all good things, it passed by too quickly. Soon enough, the band was interpreting their final song for the night: a slow.

"May I have one last dance?" Elian had asked cheekily.

He had been an amazing partner throughout the entire evening, making you laugh and dancing with you plenty. How could you say no to his demand?

You put one hand on his shoulder, he put one on your waist, your free hands against each other. Slowly, you started swaying side to side.

"Did you have a good evening?" he asked.

"Yes," you replied. "Did you you?"

"It was wonderful." He paused. "Would you like for us to keep seeing each other?"

You frowned: "In what sense?"

"Would you like to go on a date with me some time?"

He was straightforward to say the least.

"I'm sorry." You let out a sad chuckle. "I don't think I'm ready to date anyone at the moment."

"No need to apologise," he reassured. "Being your friend is plenty enough."

You thanked him with a smile.

He spinned you around.

Your gaze got lost in the decor around you. The white shades of the Great Hall, the magical snow, the clear night sky ceiling.

That is when you met his gaze.

Time slowed down.

It stopped entirely.

You felt every distinct beat of your heart.

And then none.

He was slow dancing with this beautiful girl. Oh, how you envied her. How you wished to be in her shoes. How you wished to be in his arms.

Gulping, you faced Elian again.

Quickly realising your trouble, he wondered: "Y/N, are you okay?"

Instead of answering, you peaked back towards George. He was also looking at you, offering a kind smile.

Then he turned back to his own date.

If he only knew what that smile did to you.

Having understood the situation by that point, your partner offered to lead you back to your common room before the end of the song.

You accepted and thanked him, holding onto his arm as you exited the Great Hall. You vaguely felt eyes following you but did not care to pay attention to them.

You had seen the way that George looked at that girl, the way he smiled at her, the way he held her.

All you kept thinking back about was the moment your eyes met for the first time that day. For the first time in days.

How it had hurt. But how you had missed it.

George Weasley had always been able to make you feel some type of way. He always brought out the best and worst in you. He made you laugh the loudest and cry the hardest. And all of that, he did without even intending it.

Despite not trying to be too pessimistic, you wondered if there was anyone else like him in the world. And if that person may love you one day.

A/N: I know we don't see much of George in this part, but I am thinking about making this into a short series. I just had the Yule Ball scene planned out before starting to write and I loved it so much I did not want to change it. I can, however, still decide what happens to the characters next ;) Please, let me know if you would be interested. Thank you for reading until the end! Hoping to see you for the next chapter! And check my suggestions/request guidelines if you're interested in requesting anything from me/giving me ideas.

#harry potter #harry potter scenarios #harry potter imagines #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #weasley twins #gender neutral reader #race neutral reader #nille writes #nille is angsty

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herdreamywasteland · 1 year

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What If... Part two? ish

sooooooooo, I forgot one thing. In the end of the fanfic, who do y'all want to end up with?

#harry potter x reader platonic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #i'm back in my hp hyperfixation #what if scenario #the weasley family x reader #ron weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins #hermione x reader #character poll #please halp

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angelkissiies · 2 years

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because I know george would bop to some fuckinf tears for fears-

| @picturesofhim | on tiktok! (me!)

this is my first edit ever!!

#george wealsey imagine #harry potter #incorrect hp quotes #the weasly twins #ron weasley #fred weasley #hptiktok #harry potter scenarios

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phefics · 5 months

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veritaserum

ship: fred weasley x reader x george weasley summary: fred and george dose the reader with a truth serum, which leads to her admitting a sexual fantasy including both brothers. warnings: dubious consent (truth potion is used to make the reader admit her sexual fantasies which then play out), pseudo-inc3st (the twins don't do anything sexual to each other but are both involved in the same sexual scenario), gender-neutral!reader (reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used) word count: 1.9k

Being friends with the Weasley twins was a constant rollercoaster.

There was never a dull moment, always an adventure to go on, a prank to pull, or witty banter bouncing between you and the brothers. Sometimes, you were helping Fred and George pull off their next big joke, but other times, you were their target. Sure, it could be frustrating, but it was also fun for you, and you always found ways to get them back.

You had been friends with the twins since your first year at Hogwarts, and that friendship had continued past Hogwarts and followed you into early-adulthood. You visited them at the flat over their shop in Diagon Alley often, where they showed you prototypes for new products and made you laugh until you cried with their antics.

It was a cold evening when you appeared in their fireplace, a bit dusty from the ashes, and were greeted with excited shouts from Fred and George before being pulled into a group hug.

As you looked up at their grinning faces, you couldn’t believe that there were people who still got the twins confused.

Fred had more freckles on his face, while George’s shoulders and arms had an abundance of them. When Fred laughed, he threw his head back, cackling loudly, while George usually gave more reserved chuckles, laughing down at his lap. And, well, George was fully missing an ear now, and Fred had a large scar on his temple from the Battle, where a piece of castle wall had crashed down on top of him.

“Finally,” Fred said, man-handling you onto the couch. “We’ve been waiting ages!”

“I’m only a few minutes late,” you replied, glancing at their clock, which wasn’t even working—it read 3:15, but it was well past 7:00 judging by the darkness outside.

“And are our few minutes not important to you?” George asked, sitting by your side. “We could have been using that time to come up with more brilliant inventions.”

“Or planned a clever scheme to spill a bucket of water on your head when you arrived,” Fred added.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your precious time,” you said, tone thick with sarcasm.

It was nice catching up with them. They updated you on each member of the Weasley family, such as Fleur’s pregnancy with her and Bill’s first child, or Percy’s upcoming wedding. You updated them on your own life as well, and it wasn’t long until they had pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into your hands.

“So, Y/N,” Fred said, leaning against the back of the couch. You immediately recognized the glint of mischief in his brown eyes, and braced yourself for whatever ridiculous question he was about to pose.

“Which of us do you think is the better looking twin?”

You opened your mouth, intending to say something like ‘neither of you’ or ‘you’re identical—what kind of stupid question is that?’ but the sentence that spilled from your lips instead was, “Well, you look pretty much the same, so I’d say you guys are equally attractive. I think the scar makes you look pretty hot, Fred, but George can really pull off the whole missing ear thing.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, face burning.

The twins both erupted into giggles.

“Oh, you’re too kind!” George said. “I’m glad you find my lack of an ear sexy.”

“And my scar is flattered,” Fred added.

“What did you two do?” you asked, scowling.

“We might have stumbled upon a vial of Veritaserum…” George said, trying and failing to look guilty. “And put it in your drink. Just a drop, though! It’ll wear off soon.”

You wanted to insult them, yell at them, call them every insult and curse under the sun, but no words would leave your tongue. It was like the truth serum wouldn’t even let you pretend to be pissed off. Sure, this was an invasion of your privacy and totally sketchy, but you had known Fred and George for so long, you were sort of used to their antics by now. You should have been way angrier than you were, but it was just so typical of them, you couldn’t muster much more than annoyance.

What you did manage to say was, “Why?”

Both twins shrugged.

“For fun,” Fred said.

“And because we were curious about something,” George replied.

“About what?”

“About which of us you like better.”

You blinked at them. “Are you serious? We aren’t eleven anymore. Is it really a contest between you two to be the better twin?”

“Not really, no,” Fred said. “Even though we all know that it's me.”

George reached over you to playfully shove his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not about proving anything. We’re just curious. So, Y/N, who do you like better: me or Freddie?”

“I like you equally,” you said. “You are both hilarious, intelligent, and my best friends. I find it easier to connect with George on serious things, but Fred always knows the right thing to say when I need cheering up.”

Your face was flushing deeper, embarrassed at the cheesy, sentimental words that left your mouth. Fred and George had grown up in an incredibly loving, affectionate family and had never shied away from making their love known, but it was awkward to voice your own feelings out loud like that.

Both twins seemed rather touched, though

“Wow, I was expecting you to have to pick,” Fred said. “But that’s oddly sweet.”

You groaned. “Okay, okay, yes, I love you both, can we knock this off now?”

“No, we have more questions!”

“Such as…?”

“Would you fuck either of us?” George asked.

Fred was normally the more vulgar of the two, and the question coming from George’s lips instead took you even more off guard.

“Yes,” you said, unable to stop yourself. “Either of you. Or both of you.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes.”

Fred and George also showed their emotions differently. Fred was better at keeping his feelings to himself, but when he was flustered, his ears would turn pink. His ears had flushed slightly, and his eyes were wide as he licked his lips, clearly intrigued by your answer. George was also flushed, but the color went to his face, and he brushed his thumbs repeatedly over his thighs, a nervous tick he’d always had.

“Have you thought about this a lot?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell us how you’d want it.”

You couldn’t help but answer. “I would let you strip off my clothes, groping me. One of you is behind me, kissing my neck as you take off my shirt. The other is at my feet, pulling my pants down. Neither of you shut up the whole time, talking about me like I’m not even there. Commenting to each other about how pretty I am, how wet my pussy is for you. Whoever is between my legs starts to go down on me, while the other holds my body still so I can’t move away from how good it feels. I cum on your tongue, and the other wants a turn, too…”

The twins were both clearly aroused as you spoke.

“Do you want that? Now?” Fred asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” you breathed.

They waste no time switching their positions on the couch, George pulling your back against his chest while Fred positions himself between your legs, his hands eagerly moving to the waistband of your pants, tugging at it.

George took his time, hands sliding up your shirt, touching softly as he felt you up, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the skin there.

You couldn’t help but whine under their touches, loving every moment of it. You had truly dreamt of this for years, always too afraid to ruin the friendship. Sure, you had kissed both twins for dares back at school, but this was real and intimate and beautiful.

Fred made quick work of getting your bottom half undressed, and he kissed his ways along your thighs, cupping your ass with one hand, squeezing hard.

“So fuckin’ hot,” George breathed.

“I know, right?” Fred replied. “So good for us, too. Are we making your fantasy come true, love?”

You nodded, whimpering softly.

“So needy, too. You want to cum for us?”

You nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”

George chuckled, nipping at your ear as Fred’s mouth finally reached your pussy, his tongue licking tentatively at you before he found your clit, which he immediately focused his attention on.

Your noises only grew louder, more desperate.

“Already? You’re not very good at this whole build-up thing, Freddie,” George said.

“I think we’ve waited long enough for this,” Fred replied before returning to his task.

“You don’t want to be patient, do you, darling?” George asked, hugging you tightly from behind. “You’ve wanted this for so long, you just want to be good for us, take everything we’ve got?”

“Fuck yes,” you moan.

Fred was clearly just as eager as you are, apparently trying to make you cum as quickly as possible, like he was placing bets in his head.

“You like that, hm? Is he good at it? Making you feel good?” George said.

“Feels so fucking good.”

“Good. You gonna cum for him?”

“Yes, yes, I’m—”

It didn’t take long at all. Fred’s tongue was good for more than just witty comments, and your legs trembled as he sat up, lips shining with your slick and a smug smile on his face.

“I think this is the part where we switch jobs, Georgie.”

Your pussy was already so wet, so sensitive, you knew that George would be able to make you cum fast, too. It was almost embarrassing how easy you were, how turned on they made you.

The twins switched positions, and Fred wrapped his arms around your middle sweetly, dragging his fingers over your waist and making goosebumps spread over your abdomen, squirming in his grasp.

“Don’t try and get away, sweet thing,” Fred said. “Otherwise George won’t be able to have his turn. Just be good for us, okay? Be a good little slut.”

You whined, face hot as George’s lips found your inner thighs and kissed the skin there, slowly, teasingly. He was the more patient, more methodical of the two. He wasn’t going to go straight for your clit, he was going to keep you wanting. Maybe until you begged.

Fred began sucking a hickey into your throat, leaving you a moaning mess as the twins both worshiped your body like it was something sacred.

Finally, George’s tongue found your pussy, teasing your hole and folds before even bothering to touch your clit.

“Should he put his fingers inside you?” Fred asked.

You nodded fervently, thrusting your hips.

George complied immediately, sliding one finger inside which was quickly followed by a second, pumping slowly before curling into that special spot, which he had found surprisingly easily.

Your second orgasm came just as quickly as the first, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Once your body was able to relax, you looked up through teary eyes to see George licking your taste off of his fingers.

“Was that everything you dreamed?” Fred asked.

You opened your mouth, expecting the answer to roll off your tongue, but it didn’t. You realized that the potion had worn off, and smirked.

“It could have been better,” you said, thrilled with your ability to lie again.

Obviously, Fred and George had to remedy that immediately.

#fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley smut #george weasley smut #weasley twins smut #hp fic #ophelia's fics

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mallowsweetmiri · 4 months

Text

• One of the Boys •

Reader x Fred Weasley

Based off of Katy Perry’s song “One of the Boys”

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: You’ve always been one of the boys. That was until you came back from summer break looking a bit, different, as Fred puts it.

Warnings: cursing, mildly steamy scenario

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

One of the boys

“Today was bloody brilliant!” Fred cheered and clapped you on the back as he raised his cup to Gryffindor. Practically the whole school was shoved in your common room to celebrate the quidditch cup.

“To Gryffindor!” Oliver bellowed drunkly as everyone drank and cheered.

“Seriously, Y/N, you played fucking amazing today,” Angelina bellowed, downing the rest of her drink.

“I can second that. Since when did you get so bloody good, little one?” George smiled as he put his arm around you. The twins had always been your good friends, the three of you joining the Gryffindor quidditch team in your third years. They’d often referred to you as little one, due to the fact that they towered over you. They constantly teased and pranked you, but you would also join in on their antics. More often than not, you guys were playing quidditch during the warm seasons and pranking Filch in the winter. You were really just one of the boys and you couldn’t be more happy to be a part of their mischief.

“I’ve always been good, Georgie. But I will admit, this was probably my best game yet,” you beamed as you joined the rest in downing your drink.

“You’re only that good thanks to our rigorous coaching throughout the years,” Fred smiled wryly, filling his own cup up again. You rolled your eyes.

“Yea right, Weasley. The two of you combined still wouldn’t be as good as me,” you challenged. The three of you went back and forth all night, drinking and laughing and celebrating Gryffindors victory. The high spirits continued throughout the week and before you knew it you were saying goodbye to all your friends at platform 9 and 3/4.

“Oh! So good to see you sweetie,” Molly smiled warmly as she dragged you into a tight hug, “Have a good summer, we’ll see you in the fall! Say goodbye boys.” Fred and George both approached you and each gave you a quick hug before heading out with the Weasley family.

“See you next year little one!” George called out.

“Don’t skimp out on the quidditch practice, Y/N! You could use it,” Fred shouted, giving you a cheeky smile and a wave. You rolled your eyes and sent a smile back before meeting with your own family and heading home for the summer.

3 months later

You checked yourself out in the mirror one last time and smoothed the top of your hair flat.

“Come on, Y/N! You’re going to miss the train,” your dad called from downstairs.

“Coming!”

Over the summer you had grown a considerable amount. Your dad had been teasing you about how much time you spent in the bathroom getting ready, but you didn’t care. For once in your life you actually felt pretty. Your body had begun to fill out in all the right places and your hair had grown out well past your shoulders now. You had started to shave your legs and wear perfume. You had even bought new clothes as you had outgrown your old wardrobe. All of this had instilled you with a newfound confidence that had you beaming. As you walked onto platform 9 and 3/4, you wore a fitted long sleeve shirt and some new low waisted jeans. You had blown out your hair into soft falling curls and you had even applied some lip gloss. You were excited to start your sixth year with all your friends and your new look.

“Bye guys! I’ll see you for Christmas,” you hugged your family before loading your trunks on the train. As you put your final trunk into the train, someone called your name from behind.

“Y/N?”

You turned around to see Fred and George standing behind you, still towering over your frame.

“Fred! George! How was your summer?” You bounded towards them and hugged George. When you pulled back to hug Fred he just stood there with his mouth slightly agape. George nudged him and he seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in and leaned in to hug you.

“You look… different,” was all he could manage to say. You chuckled and put your hands on your hips.

“Yes, I’m not so little anymore. You guys can stop calling me little one now,” you teased.

“Nah, you’re still tiny,” George brushed you off as you all started to head onto the train to find a compartment. After walking down the length of the train, you had finally found the compartment where Lee and Angelina were.

“Y/N! How was your summer! Oh my gosh, you look absolutely stunning,” Angelina beamed as she hugged you and pulled you down to sit next to her.

“Thanks Angie, I can say the same about you! And my summer was amazing,” you guys chatted back and forth, catching up on all the latest gossip and all the fun things you did over the summer. Fred and George beamed about the Quidditch World Cup and soon the five of you were full of sweets and ready to take a quick nap before you had to change into your school robes.

“Every year I tell myself not to eat so many chocolate frogs, and every year I eat more than I did the year before,” Lee groaned, leaning back and rubbing his stomach. You laughed and slid down in your own seat, leaning your head against the window and looking out across the green landscape. You were so happy to be back with your friends. The summertime was amazing, but there was nothing like Hogwarts. As you smiled to yourself, you looked up from the window to see Fred staring at you with a serious expression. You raised an eyebrow at him but he just shook his head and looked out the window. That was weird. You shook it off and leaned your head against the window again and nodded off.

Before long, the train had pulled into the station and crowds of students were piling out into to the night to go to welcoming feast. As you filed out of the train and towards the carriages, Fred and George lagged behind a bit and whispered to each other.

“Do you think they’re acting a bit strange?” You leaned in towards Angelina, sending another glance back towards the twins.

“Aren’t they always?” Angelina shrugged as she stepped into the carriage. She had a point.

After a few minutes, you found yourself at the Gryffindor table listening to Dumbledore announce the Tri-Wizard Tournament, everybody increasingly getting excited as his speech went on. The excitement reached its peak as piles of fresh food appeared in front of you and everybody dug into the feast.

“Oh how I missed this food,” you groaned, piling food into your mouth. George hummed in agreement as he piled more potatoes into his mouth. You could feel Fred staring at you again but you decided against meeting his gaze this time. Were they going to prank you or something? He was acting so weird.

Shortly after dinner, everybody headed up to their dorms. Despite wanting to hang out together in the common room, the long day of travel and the large feast caught up with the Gryffindors as the students filed up the winding stairs to their rooms. You had just gotten to your room when you realized you left your book in the common room. You turned around and quietly padded down the stairs to retrieve it. You slowed your steps as you saw the twins huddled together on a couch with their backs turned from you.

“Well yes, I’m not disagreeing. Any bloke can see she looks good, so what? I mean, what are you trying to say?” You managed to hear George say as you approached the coffee table.

“Ooh, who looks good? Does someone have a crush?”

The twins jumped as you grabbed your book next to them.

“Bloody hell, Y/N!” Fred exclaimed with wide eyes. George laughed.

“See, you say you’re no longer little, but you’re so tiny your footsteps don’t even make a sound,” George teased, leaning back into the couch and tossing his arm over it. You rolled your eyes.

“You guys just stomp around like ogres, I walk like a normal human. Anyways, I’m heading to bed. Try not to drool over Angelina, Georgie. It’s only the first day back,” you teased as you turned to head up towards the girls dormitory. You heard George let out a loud laugh before hearing a loud slap and more commotion. You just smiled to yourself, oh how you missed those two. You entered your room and placed your book on your bedside table before going to your wardrobe to change.

“I think George likes you,” you nodded to Angelina as she shot up in her bed.

“Really?” She said with a slight smile. You just chuckled. You were so happy to be back.

The weeks flew by and soon the other wizarding schools had arrived. The only thing that sucked about this whole tournament was that there was no quidditch. It was a surprisingly warm November day when you bounded into the common room looking for a certain pair of red heads. You spotted them huddled up in the corner of the room, probably working on one of their pranking products as you had learned of recently.

“You two,” you pointed at the twins as they whipped their heads up, “wanna play quidditch? Two on two, George and Angelina, Me and Fred.” A cheeky grin immediately grew on George’s face as he turned to look at Fred. A more sheepish smile appeared on Fred’s face as he stood up.

“Alright, Y/N, let’s kick some ass.”

The game had turned out to be exactly what the four of you needed in midst of all the school work that was being assigned. You and Fred flew seamlessly together, scoring over and over again on George and Angelina. They were putting up a good front, but your flying skills were outmatched. You had even attracted a small crowd of students by the time the game ended.

“Good game,” you said, landing onto the field and sticking out your hand for Angelina.

“Yes, valiant effort you two,” Fred smirked, shaking Angelina’s hand after you.

“Merlin, Y/N, I forgot how good you are,” Angelina mumbled as she took her defeat in stride.

“Yeah, shes bloody brilliant,” Fred mumbled with a reserved smile. You looked up at him, beaming at the compliment but he quickly looked away and cleared his throat.

“Gotta admit it, little one. You sure can fly,” George clapped you on the back before following Angelina off the field.

“We make a good team, Freddie,” you smiled, patting his arm before beginning to walk off the field as well. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad. Why was Fred acting so weird around you? Did he not like you anymore? He had been so distant this year, choosing to spend his time with George and whenever you came over to join them, he seemed to shut down and become reserved. And Fred had certainly never been reserved before. You shook your head and walked back to your dorm to shower. You decided you’d ask George about it that night.

After dinner, you sat in the common room working on some homework with Angelina. You tried to focus on your assignment, but your eyes kept drifting over to the pair huddled in the corner. How in the world were you going to ask George about Fred when they were always together? As if your prayers had been answered, Fred stood up and walked out of the common room. Your eyes followed him until he disappeared through the portrait hole. You took no time waiting and began to walk over to George.

“Ah, Y/N, what’s up?” George closed whatever he was working on and put his arm over the back of the couch. You took a seat next to him and turned to face him, nervously playing with your sleeves.

“Um, I actually had a question for you,” you stammered, looking up towards the portrait hole to make sure Fred wasn’t coming back.

“Spit it out, Y/N. What’s up? You’re making me worried,” George laughed, scooting closer to you. You cleared your throat.

“Does Fred have a problem with me? I dunno, it just seems like he doesn’t like me around anymore. He’s been acting so weird and I don’t want to bother him if he doesn’t want me hanging out with you guys anymore,” you trailed off, looking down at your legs. George put his arm around your shoulders.

“Y/N, I can promise you that is not the case,” he sighed, “we both love hanging out with you.”

“Really?” You let out a breath and chuckled.

“Yes, really. Merlin, he is such an idiot,” he grumbled to himself, shaking his head.

“What do you mean?” You raised an eyebrow at him when Fred walked back into the common room. You looked up and your eyes met his. As he got closer to you and George, his brows furrowed. George took his arm off your shoulders and you shifted your body away from his.

“What are you guys talking about?” Fred questioned, stopping in his tracks and crossing his arms over his chest, looking mildly annoyed. Why were his forearms so ripped? You shook your head and cleared your throat.

“I was just bugging him about the herbology assignment, which he hasn’t even started,” you glared at George. It was true that he hadn’t even started the lengthy assignment that was due by the end of the week. George chuckled.

“Did you set it up Freddie?” George questioned, probably about a prank, looking up at his twin. Fred still looked visibly annoyed.

“Yes. I did, but I should’ve made you do it.” Fred said dryly, his jaw clenching slightly. George rolled his eyes. You looked between the twins with a confused expression. You rarely saw them annoyed at each other.

“Alright, well I’m headed upstairs. Goodnight you guys,” you ducked out of the awkward atmosphere and towards Angelina to grab your books.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” George said as Fred sat down in your seat and began to whisper something to George. What was that all about?

A few days went by and Fred was still acting distant. You wondered if George had even said anything to Fred about it. If anything, Fred was avoiding you even more. George tried to give you passing smiles and waves, but anytime he passed you in the halls, Fred would completely ignore you. Even at dinner, he would rarely engage in conversation with you and you were starting to feel really hurt. After this particular night where he purposefully avoided your gaze the entire dinner, you were actually angry at him. He’d been acting so weird all year and then as soon as you talked to George about it, he started completely ignoring you. That night, you left your dorm and stomped up to the twins room. You knocked on the door and stood there with your arms crossed waiting until George opened it. He looked taken aback by your angry presence.

“I need to talk to Fred, alone.” You stated. George gulped and turned to Lee.

“Let’s go to the common room,” he grabbed Lee and pushed past you. Fred was now looking at you from his bed. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. It looked half scared and half the nonchalant expression he’d been giving you the past few days.

“What the fuck is your problem with me?” You stomped over the his bed where he sat. He raised an eyebrow at you and crossed his arms.

“I don’t have a problem with you, Y/N. What are you talking about?” He shrugged as he looked up at you nonchalantly, but you could see his jaw tensing.

“Are you serious right now, Fred? You know exactly what I’m been talking about. You’ve been avoiding me all week, ever since I talked to George about you. I don’t know if he even mentioned it to you, but I thought you didn’t like me anymore! He told me that wasn’t true, but now I’m not too sure anymore! You’ve been acting like a prat all week!” You were fuming at this point. You couldn’t believe he had the audacity to pretend like he hadn’t been ignoring you for days.

“That’s not fuckimg true! I told you I don’t have a problem with you, Y/N,” he jumped up off the bed and stalked towards you, “why can’t you just take my word for it?” His height became apparent as he loomed over you. You only stood up straighter and kept your arms crossed.

“Well then what’s your problem? Why don’t you like hanging out with me anymore? Why are you avoiding me?” You questioned, your anger slowly seeping away and being replaced with the hurt you’d been feeling. Fred sighed, his posture relaxing as he saw your eyes fill with sadness. He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I do like hanging out with you, Y/N. Merlin, I’ve been missing spending time with you, I just…” he trailed off, his eyes falling to the floor.

“You just what, Fred? Since when are you so shy?” You asked genuinely. That only made Fred groan and run his hands roughly through his hair again.

“Since I started liking you! Since you showed up on the platform looking like that and now I can’t even look at you without thinking you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” the words tumbled out of his mouth and left you standing there with your mouth open. Did he just say he likes you? Did he just call you beautiful? “I miss playing quidditch with you and coming up with pranks together but fuck, Y/N. I don’t want to be your friend anymore. I want to be with you.” You stood still for what felt like a long time. Were you dreaming right now? Your brain scrambled to make sense of what was happening. I mean, Fred was standing in front of you, confessing his feelings to you in a very real way. But you’d been friends for so long. What if this ruined everything? But he was standing right in front of you with his messy hair and his freckled face and his furrowed brows and he just looked so good and he was finally talking to you again and

“Oh, fuck it,” you breathed out, closing the space between the two of you. You were kissing him. And it felt so good. He groaned into your lips as his hands found their way to the small of your back, pulling you flush against his body as his lips worked against your own. Your hands tangled in his red locks as you pulled at his neck to deepen the kiss. His hands slid up your body until he held your cheeks. He kissed you softly one more time before pulling back. You face was blushed red as you stared up at him with wide eyes. He finally let out a breathy laugh and his lips curved up into a crooked smile.

“You’re so cute, fuck,” he laughed, still holding your face in his large hands, “I’m sorry I’ve been acting like a prat. I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But after kissing you, fuck, I should’ve ruined it a long time ago.”

“I just wish you would’ve told me earlier. Had I known you liked me, I could’ve had you kissing me all year,” you smirked as you walked him to the edge of his bed. He sat on the edge and pulled you down with him.

“Let’s make up for lost time then,” Fred whispered as he pulled you to his lips. You groaned as you straddled his lap and deepened the kiss. This man knew how to use his tongue.

“Fuck, Freddie,” you moaned into his mouth as his hands found their way to your ass. He chuckled as his grabbed your hips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I saw you bent over your luggage on the platform,” he breathed out with a smirk as he slapped your ass. You gasped and hit his chest.

“Freddie!” You scolded, but it didn’t last long as he pulled you back to his mouth, making you moan as his thumbs rubbed over your hip bones.

“Bloody hell,” you heard someone say from the door. You gasped and pulled away from Fred only to see George standing in the doorway with his jaw wide open. Fred’s smirked stayed plastered on his face and his grip held you tight on his lap.

“Sorry Georgie, think you can give us a few more minutes? We’re still talking.”

#fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagines #wizarding world #harry potter fanfiction #reader x fred weasley #y/n x Fred weasley #george weasley #Fred weasley #harry potter oneshot #Harry Potter master list #hpboys #Fred weasley one shot #fred weasley oneshot

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cherryslyce · 1 year

Text

Second Son (XIV) | 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: Y/N joins Contessa Zabini for tea. Luna and Y/N make way to Reine, Norway. Y/N remembers something important about Regulus.

Part XIII / Part XV / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: The Zabini's and Baroque architecture just makes sense to me. Also uhhh have fun <3.

The cranberry tinted cup that sat in front of you made your tea flush like diluted blood, the glass flared at the rims to resemble a blossom, imposing on the matching saucer that you couldn’t draw your eyes away from.

Luna sat perfectly quaint to your left, eyes running across the opulent clusters of furniture that accessorized the already extravagant room. Intricate carvings lined cream pillars that pinched the rounded windows in front of you, each imposing structure veiled by heavy blush curtains. The wooden table in front of you was polished spotlessly, matching the ornate chair that sat sturdy underneath your rigid body. On the opposite wall, you’re suddenly aware of the colossal gold-trimmed mirror that was no doubt reflecting your squared shoulders.

Blaise was living in a baroque daydream. Damn him.

Your tongue was doing a funny thing, tipping between sensitivity and leathery roughness. That would be of your own doing, having immediately drawn your lips to the scalding tea in an effort to diffuse the tension in your shoulders. Despite the abrupt burn, you had held in the sputtering that twisted in your throat in order to maintain some semblance of decorum.

The silence was becoming unnerving and you could tell that Blaise agreed, the usually composed slytherin was twitching to twist his rings for the nth time. Unexpectedly, when you all had arrived at the Zabini Manor, you were met with a rather unimpressed Theodore Nott. Blaise had quietly whispered that the boy was well-liked by his mother and was often a guest at their manor.

It felt like you and Luna had become prey trapped in a den full of beguiling predators. The Contessa sat across from you with Blaise to her right, the woman not even batting an eye when Theodore chose to round the table and sit next to you instead.

Easy access to attack you or was he also intimidated by the elegant woman?

“So you were at a wedding, dear?” The Contessa’s voice was smothered in a richness that complemented her unflinching gaze.

Clearing your throat lightly, you lean forward to meet her keen eyes, “Yes.” Your tone was mellow–formal, and the lack of embellishing in your answer seemed to both amuse and vex her.

Not giving up so easily, the woman stirs her tea without breaking eye contact, “I see, and you were both making a quick trip to Diagon Alley afterwards?” The question would have seemed innocent if it were coming from anybody else (perhaps with the exception of Voldemort), but you could practically see the gears in her head turning.

“A little disruption ruined our appetite for celebration.”

The woman raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at you, “Oh? What’s a wedding without a little family drama?”

You felt like someone had taken a bludger and scrambled your brains with it, high society was truly not for the weak to stomach. You weren’t even sure if the Contessa was teasing you or trying to prod for information.

It was likely the latter, and the thought made your stomach twist a little. Your exchange of letters had always been polite, borderlining strained pleasantries that involved Hogwarts classes, your research, and plans to meet up (that you were hoping to never attend).

“Family drama would have been preferable, I’m afraid,” Your tone lifted ever so slightly, but the small smile pulling at your lips hid how irritated you were becoming with the tango of words.

You shoot Blaise a small glance and see him watching you both with an unreadable expression, though his intense eyes unnerved you a bit. Like mother, like son.

The Contessa’s lips purse thinly and you get the impression that she is also becoming increasingly irate with your resolution, but then her face settles into a sharp grin.

Humming lowly, she tilts her head to assess you before speaking, “You impress me, my dear. It would seem that Blaise is getting better at picking his companions,” You see her shoot a small approving glance at Theodore, who merely sips his tea nonchalantly, “Theodore, Y/N – I hope you both will continue to look out for Blaise. We Zabini’s pride ourselves in our unflinching loyalty and we always return what is given to us threefold.”

Chancing a peek at the boy next to you, you see Theodore meet your eyes evenly. Your move.

Nodding at the dignified woman, you smile genuinely for the first time that evening, “It would be my honor, Contessa Zabini. However, my devotion to Blaise would have continued without question, he is quite-” you raise your eyebrow at the boy, “-fascinating, after all.”

By fascinating, I mean half as scary as you and ten times more approachable. His wicked sense of humor is also a plus.

Blaise narrows his eyes goodheartedly and drops a sugar cube into his cooled tea, “Thanks.” The dry response has Theodore hiding a small smirk in his tea cup, while the Contessa merely shoots an unimpressed look at her son’s sickly concoction.

“Indeed, you are quite personable, Y/N. I can’t help but wonder though, what is your stance on the current political climate? It would be ever so insightful for me.” The woman smoothly questions, the calculative glint in her eyes flashing under the chandelier lights.

Translation: Are you going to induct my son into Voldemort’s goonies or Dumbledore’s sycophants?

Stirring your tea absentmindedly, you decide to answer honestly, “I have my own motivations that don’t exactly align with the polarized ideologies of our sphere. Of course, I have a preference for who I wish to see come out on top, but either way, my own interests outweigh my desire to participate in politics.”

Your answer seems to catch everybody off guard (except for Luna who smiles like she’s known all along), and you see consideration paint the Contessa’s face, “Interesting. Blaise has indicated that you are quite close with Harry Potter, yet you declare neutrality?”

“Neutrality for as long as my interests continue to hold my attention, but I hold no ounce of admiration for the Dark Lord or his underlings.” You hesitate to continue, feeling shifty with how easily your words were spilling out.

Blaise seems to grasp onto your words and leans forwards to prod you, “But?”

“But, I do not think that certain knowledge and teachings should be tabooed.”

Theodore speaks up for the first time to confirm what you were insinuating, “The Dark Arts.”

You nod and lift up your tea cup, sipping carefully despite how tasteless it was due to your burns.

“And these interests of yours, do they involve the Dark Arts?” The Contessa swipes a manicured nail around the handle of her cup, eyes no longer shrewd.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you lean back before answering lightly, “They might. I cannot say for certainty that they do. However, it does involve unusual magic.”

“I see. It makes sense now why you asked to see those Norwegian tomes.” The woman’s eyes are alight, a glow that made it seem as though an investment of hers bloomed to fruition beautifully.

You shuddered imperceptibly. Was it an honor or an omen that she seemed so intrigued by you?

Theodore perks up and he turns to you with wide eyes, “Norwegian tomes?”

The boy’s eagerness for knowledge was palpable, and you couldn’t help but be amused by his antics. It was so familiar because you saw it often in Regulus.

Regulus. You winced. You wouldn’t think about it anymore.

“Yes,” Turning to face the Contessa, you weigh your options, “If I may, I was wondering if I could borrow an owl for a letter. I want to inform my other friends of my plans going forward.”

Blaise raises his eyebrows and frowns, “Plans? Are you not meeting up with them soon?”

“Actually, I-” Luna turns to you with determined eyes at your slip up, “-we are heading North.”

“North?” Blaise looks exceedingly unimpressed and you knew you wouldn’t be going anywhere until you satiated his curiosity.

“Yes, up North.”

“Where up North, pray tell?” He drawls with crossed arms.

“Norway. We’re going to Norway.” Your tone was flat, eyes conveying your exasperation.

Blaise sputters indignantly and barely restrains himself from throwing his hands up, “Norway? We have school in two weeks! How long are you planning to be there for?”

“Indefinitely. It’s for my personal research.”

“Well, I’m coming with you.” Blaise’s declaration has you darting your eyes to the Contessa with bated breath, watching the woman cross her arms.

“Absolutely not. You have school, caro.” Blaise frowns deeply at his mother’s refusal and sits back in his seat, shoulders sagging in defeat, unwilling to argue with her. Theodore looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, likely considering if he would be able to leave school early too with the excuse of sabbatical.

The Contessa turns to you, ignoring her son’s fit, “Of course, I’ll have one of my house elfs fetch you some parchment and ink. I’m sure Blaise wouldn’t mind if you borrowed his owl,” The woman suddenly rises from her seat and shoots you all a pleasant smile before smoothing out her dress, “This evening has been quite insightful. I look forward to our next meeting, Y/N. Safe journeys, don’t be a stranger.”

Without waiting for a response, the woman spins on her heel and struts towards the double doors, calling for an elf as she crosses the threshold, “Viren, bring some parchment and ink for my guests.” The door clicks shut behind her as her last words reach your ears, and you slump in your seat as exhaustion soars through your veins.

Before a disgruntled Blaise or an eager Theodore – the bloody ravenclaw in snake skin, can get a word out, a light pop draws your attention towards a rather properly dressed house elf, parchment and writing supplies in tow.

Luna is quick to gather the supplies and quietly thank the elf, smoothing out the parchment in front of you.

“I still want to go with you.” Blaise’s voice is soft, and you’re unable to detect any irritation.

Peering up from your writing, you smile lightly at the two boys, “Sorry. You two need to hold down the fort. I didn’t say anything earlier, but the Ministry has been infiltrated by Voldemort and his followers, that’s why we left the wedding in such a hurry. Scrimgeour is dead as well,” You heave a sigh and flick the quill casually, “I suspect Hogwarts is going to be overtaken next, and Harry and I wouldn’t be caught dead there this year, we’d be like little crup puppies in a ball pit.”

Both slytherins look stumped by your straightforwardness, and Blaise huffs out a little ‘well shit’ that has you nodding.

Theodore stares deeply into the translucent pool of tea in his cup, voice barely above a whisper, “The war is going to end soon.”

“Yes, and Harry’s going to make sure Voldemort is damned all the way into the afterlife.” If either of the boys were unconvinced by your conviction, they didn’t let it show, opting to share a look of understanding with each other before turning to you and nodding lightly.

Blaise rounds the table and drops his hands onto your shoulders, “You better not die. And I guess I can take care of our ward for the time being.”

“Ward?” Theodore sounds (rightfully) perplexed by his best friend’s words.

“Little Draconis,” you supply, much to Theodore’s bewilderment, “And Blaise, stop making it sound like we’ve adopted him!”

You wave your friend off and finish up your letter, leaning back in satisfaction as you hear Blaise clamber away to fetch his owl.

Prongslet (and co),

Luna and I are going to redeem our meal tickets (not as bizarre of a gift as one may think). We may not be back before darkness falls. Tell the old menace I said hello, and that I will make good on my promise to him. Stay safe and stay together.

- Someone’s beloved Birdie

Norway was incomparably arctic to Britain, the frigid winds bit at the tips of your fingers with fervid rushes, and you were positive that your legs were now flesh icicles. Despite how ardently your body protested against the climate, you couldn’t help the serene smile that mapped the muscles of your face. The chill was not the only difference the region had over Britain, and its tranquility was almost foreign to you.

Now more than ever, Wizarding Britain seemed to have a miasma of doom looming over the country and the change of pace was almost tangible.

“Here we are,” Luna’s airy voice was a welcomed sound amidst your inner exultation. You couldn’t help but draw similarities between the mysticality of Luna’s magic and disposition, and the blankets of fog that permeated over the lake in the far distance.

Both were curious in their own aspects, but you couldn’t help but want to melt deeper in the feeling they both surrounded you with.

You pulled your overcoat tighter around your body, thanking Merlin and those above that Blaise practically tore his closet right to left to find suitable clothing for you and Luna before you both departed from Zabini Manor.

Stepping closer to Luna, you hum as you observe the view in the distance, “It’s beautiful.”

Reine was truly idyllic. The fishing village was cupped by snowy peaks that towered over the clots of buildings which mottled the shores of the lake – a place truly untouched by the withering fog of petulant human conflict.

The apparition was quite tiring and you could feel fatigue coiling around your muscles, urging you to quickly seek refuge.

“Couldn’t have picked a better place really: picturesque, remote, and lauded for proficiency in multiple languages.” Your words are light and playful, spurning a grin to bloom on Luna’s face.

Dumbledore practically handed you a bubble-wrapped opportunity served on a golden platter.

The both of you begin to trek towards the village, not wanting to risk apparition in case you were seen by any locals. To your knowledge, this Anders Fiske was the only magical folk in Reine, holing himself away from densely populated regions for reasons only Merlin knows.

As you approach the banks of the waters and the largest building amongst the cluster, you inhale shakily as you see a sinewy man exit the building. The man seems to pause and do a double take, fully turning when he realized that you weren’t a figment of his imagination.

“Hello,” His voice is gruff and gratingly neutral, only weakening your resolve.

Talking to people was hard. But you survived a – conversation? interrogation? with Contessa Zabini, this should be a piece of cake.

“Hello, we’re looking for someone named Anders Fiske,” your tone is even and you try your best to look as friendly as possible. Luna simply stares off into a red house in the distance, seeming to look straight through the man in front of you.

Immediately, you can see the man tense before he forcibly relaxes his stance, pinching his eyebrows together as he surveys you, “There is no one here by that name.”

You would have believed him. If you were a dolt, of course.

“Are you certain? It’s rather important, and he’s the only one that can help us.” The man doesn’t falter and you frown when you feel something inch towards you.

Helga almighty.

He had a magical signature. The man in front of you was clearly a wizard, whether he knew it or not.

Before you can ruminate on your discovery, the man speaks up, “Yes. So you both should leave.”

A subtle bone in his body, there was not.

Feeling your eye twitch, you decide to do some searching on your own terms. Releasing your magic, you slowly blanket the surrounding buildings in search for another magical signature. It was clear enough that the man in front of you was not who you were looking for – unless Dumbledore wanted you to have some grilled monkfish with the most conspicuous wizard ever to roam the earth since Godric Gryffindor himself.

As you continue to scavenge the village with your magic, the man in front of you shifts from side to side, clearly becoming wary of your sudden silence and blank stare.

Before you can continue, a thunderous slam has you flinching out of your concentration. Peering around the looming man, your eyes meet a guarded gaze. Tilting your head, you sidestep and assess the newcomer, smiling slowly as you realize that he was another wizard.

The new man was much older and you could see the way he leaned on his right leg as if his left one was aching from the slightest pressure. He was hunched in the pathway of the red house Luna was observing, mouth set into a deep frown.

“Bingo,” Without waiting for the younger man to say anything (or possibly toss you into the lake), you stroll over toward the older man who was slowly retreating back into his house.

Luna follows after you and nods happily to herself, starting to skip by your side.

Stopping a few yards away from the man, you roll your shoulders to ease your soreness before jumping into the golden question, “Are you Anders Fiske?”

The man appears to be ready to vehemently deny your question, but Luna speaks up before he can even utter a mumble, “Dumbledore sent us!”

“Dumbledore?” The man’s harsh wrinkles smooth over ever so slightly, and your former headmaster’s name seems to roll off his tongue instinctually.

“Yes. In his will, he told me that I needed to seek you out for a…meal? I’m in need of your help,” The man seems nonplussed by your declaration, and you purse your lips before sweetening up your words, “Please.”

You see the man’s eyes flicker behind you and back rapidly, seeming to mull over everything.

Without a word, the man dips into the shadow of his house with one last glower.

Excuse me, what?

“Come,” You’re startled out of your stupor by a familiar deep voice, and you can only trail forward, mouth hung open, as the younger man leads you and Luna inside.

As the younger man closes the door shut behind you, an array of lamps flicker to life around the room, illuminating the perimeter much to your amazement. The room was cozy and frazzled in a similar fashion to the Weasley’s home, and your eyes couldn’t help but trail across a wall of tomes the size of your head.

“You shouldn’t be here,” The older man – Anders, grumbles from the middle of the room, sat at the dining table with a demeanor you found synonymous with Moody during meetings at Grimmauld Place.

Smiling coyly, you watch Luna as she wanders almost weightlessly towards the small corner kitchen, “You shouldn’t have revealed yourself, Anders.”

The man lets out a low grunt and you almost have to physically restrain your eyebrows from floating off your face. This man was literally Moody in a different, older font.

“You would have figured it out anyway. Could feel that magic of yours suffocating the whole place from in here.” His tone was rough, but you wanted to believe that there was an impressed shine in his eyes.

The younger man who was (surprisingly) still behind you, decides to interrupt your conversation, “Father, who are these people?”

Anders places his elbows on the table and gives you and Luna a once-over, “Magical folk.”

“A threat?” Anders’ son carries an edge to his tone that has you nearly rolling your eyes.

You were about to blast him through the window, but you couldn’t let this opportunity slip away because of unbridled temptations.

“That remains to be seen.”

Anders’ reply seems to placate his son for the time being, and he heads off towards Luna as the girl hunches over to study a chipped teapot on the counter. You shift and make your way to stand in across from Anders, not exactly sure what approach to take.

The yellow lighting bounced off the man’s face and gave him a sickly complexion, emphasizing his stress lines and suspicious eyes as you drew closer.

“So, Dumbledore is dead?” He sounded almost regretful. Either that or you knocked your head on the way in.

“Unfortunately. War is not forgiving, especially to martyrs.” Your tone was not nearly as sad as it probably should have been, but it seemed to be of no trouble for the older wizard.

Anders sighs and leans back in his seat, one hand coming to clutch his shoulder unconsciously, “The old fool knew what he was getting into,” He raises his eyes to look at you appraisingly, “Can’t imagine why he’d send you my way, anyway.”

“I’m researching. Something that is unfortunately, extremely niche. Dumbledore said you might be able to enlighten me on the subject.” Your determined tone seems to draw in some interest from him, and you have to mask the victorious feeling that washes over you.

That’s right, scholar to scholar. Hook, line, and sinker.

The man waits for you to continue, so you slowly pull out the chair in front of you and sink down across from him, “It’s about magical essences. It seems that you are quite sensitive to magical signatures, seeing as you could sense me releasing my magic earlier,” Anders gives a brisk nod, and you clench your hands as you continue, “A few summers ago, I encountered something strange–special. I found a portrait that was imbued with magical essence, and this portrait, he was extremely sentient.”

You feel a knot lodge in your throat at the reminder of Regulus, the wound of his destruction feeling painfully raw again. Seeing your sudden hesitance, Anders raises a scruffy white eyebrow, “And where is this portrait now?”

Your gaze drops to the table, your eyes blazing right into the worn wood, so marred and aged, unlike the one at Zabini Manor.

“Gone, then? I don’t know how I’m supposed to be of help in that case.” You raise your eyes and meet his cold gaze, clenching your jaw at his stoic expression, “You both can stay the night in the basement, for the sake of doing an old friend a favor. I expect you to be gone by daylight, tomorrow.”

Without pause, Anders pushes himself off the chair and limps further into the house, leaving you to awkwardly stew in your rejection while his son and Luna linger behind you.

Anders’ son breaks the tense silence first, “Sorry about him, he’s…”

“Stubborn?” Luna offers.

“Honest.” You reply at the same time.

Whirling around in your seat, you will away the veil of exhaustion and hurt that clouded your mind and look up at Anders’ son, really seeing him for the first time. You see the resemblance between the both of them, from their narrowed eyes to their thin noses, and the unmistakable metallic chill engulfed in both of their magic.

Slowly rising from your seat, you send a fleeting smile to the boy, “Don’t believe we know your name.”

“Asger,” His tone is much less taut than before, from pity or understanding, you didn’t know.

“Nice to meet you, and thanks.”

The boy–Asger, waves off your thanks and simply juts his shoulder forward, silently telling you to follow him. Feeling all of your survival instincts switch off, you tread behind him with glassy eyes, barely aware of your surroundings even when Luna tucks her arm around your body, guiding you around the unfamiliar environment.

It appeared that Anders utilized his magical prowess and performed a disappearing act by the time you reached the basement, the older man being nowhere in sight despite the fact that there was only one door in the back of the house–which led to the basement.

You and Luna got settled in, not bothered by the loose threads of your blankets or the dusty boxes that rested against the walls. You were both given a (surprisingly) comfortable mattress to share, and you almost wanted to cry when Luna started to draw patterns on your palm as you both stared up at the spackled ceiling.

“Our journey has not ended yet,” Luna’s voice is small, but still fueled with conviction.

“Thanks, Luna. I don’t even know where I’d be without you.”

A comfortable silence descends upon you two, and you shift to get comfortable in your spot, realizing that Blaise’s overcoat was making it difficult to turn over. Slowly sitting up, you shrug off the thick material, and fix your jacket, realizing it was slightly askew from your movements. As you smooth down the material, you freeze as your hand moves over a thick bulk in your inner pocket.

Portrait…?

No. Of course not.

Ignoring the cold sinking of your stomach, you fish out the object and search blindly for your wand.

“Lumos.”

Your breath hitches.

Regulus’ journal. The one you found stuffed between his mattresses. Swallowing harshly, you slowly run a hand over the wrinkled cover.

How could you have forgotten?

As you try to maneuver your wand to allow both of your hands to be free, a gentle tug has you swiveling your head to the side. Luna merely smiles at you before looking back at the journal, nimbly holding your wand over the book so you could flip through it.

“I can look away if you want,” Luna’s gentle voice slices through the air with a warmth that you viscerally feel in your chest, and you smile at the girl in gratitude. As she turns her gaze to the darkness, seemingly becoming entranced by nothingness, you slowly furl the first pages open.

Property of Regulus Arcturus Black

You turn the page, fingers twitching as you resist the temptation to trace the swirls of his name.

3 November, 1976

Today is Sirius’ birthday. The first year he will celebrate away from home, as a disappointment to the family name. Mother and Father were particularly cold today. I just have to try harder. Sirius has stopped replying to my letters, and he avoids me in the halls.

I think I hate him.

Your heart pounds furiously in your chest as you reread the entry, struck by the unfamiliar loathing coated in his tone. Sirius was sixteen when he left, so seventeen in 1976. Regulus was only fifteen when he wrote this, and already so tied down by his family and abandonment issues.

The next few pages contain similar entries, all filled with abhorrence for Sirius and bitterness towards his parents.

Then the year changes.

8 September, 1978

The Dark Lord is going to change the world, make it a better, purer place. Mother and Father were pleased when I announced that I would be taking the mark soon, already having made strides among his growing forces.

Sirius would hate it. I know he would. But he would expect it. He should, anyway.

He already hates me, what damage could this do to our already broken relationship?

He should hate me.

I hate myself. I hate him.

I hate him so much.

17 December, 1978

Visiting my portrait was eventful. I can feel him growing stronger with every meeting. I think I’ll have to repaint it soon, looking at it and seeing a reflection of who I used to be never gets easier.

The next repaint, I’m going to finally do it. Hopefully, all my research will have paid off. Uncle Alphard’s book on magical essences was more helpful than I could have ever imagined.

The room is complete, and I can feel my magic all over it. If I can imbue it into my portrait as well, it will be perfect.

Maybe then he can forgive me. If I explain. If I try.

The Dark Lord is expecting me soon.

3 January, 1979

The repainting was a success. My hand will be sore for the next few days, but it was all worth it. I finally figured out how to key the room. The only person who will be able to access it now is Sirius. That is if he ever returns home.

My portrait is so like me, it’s truly uncanny. Perhaps I can publish my findings after I graduate.

My mark aches often.

I miss Sirius.

5 March, 1979

The Dark Lord tried to kill Kreacher.

After everything I’ve done for him. After everything I’ve sacrificed.

Sirius was right.

Kreacher keeps talking about a potion and a locket. I need to understand. I have to.

It is imperative that I impart everything I know to my portrait, so Sirius will know that I tried. That I finally understand.

Is this my punishment? Must I suffer so for forgiveness? If he does not forgive me, will it all have been for nothing?

I need to find out what the Dark Lord is hiding. It will be my repentance.

19 May, 1979

Horcruxes.

Such vile creations, a defiling of one’s soul. The Dark Lord has a horcrux. I need to destroy it.

My portrait grows restless with me. To think it was even possible. He only has the faintest ideas of my current ambitions, but I feel everyday that he is growing to be someone I never could be. Someone that Sirius would be able to forgive.

I’ll destroy the horcrux and accept the conditions tied to it.

There is no other way.

8 June, 1979

Everyday I grow closer to executing my plan.

I have given my portrait everything he needs to know.

I wonder, is all soul magic as abominable as horcruxes? I begin to see parallels with magical essences and soul magic. Yet, they feel completely different.

Or perhaps I have finally lost all sense. I have always been a hypocrite.

I wait with bated breath.

I will destroy it even if it kills me, and it will be glorious.

28 July, 1979

I fear that if I wait any longer I will go back on my conviction.

Mother and Father are growing increasingly vexed with me. I think they want to marry me off by winter.

It will be before then.

I have stopped confiding in my portrait about my deeper feelings. I fear that my weakness will be obvious even to him.

I have read more about magical essences to distract myself. Even the Dark Lord is not omniscient. Magical essences have ties to one’s soul, the bounds of such revelation I do not know. Yet, I have learned of something even the Dark Lord is ignorant to, and because of that, he has debased himself with horcruxes.

A small victory, and an inkling of how it will feel when he’s gone.

When he falls.

14 August, 1979

I will do it in autumn.

I hope it will all be worth it.

26 October, 1979

My portrait can cast magic.

I wonder if Sirius will be proud.

29 October, 1979

I wonder what being in love feels like.

2 November, 1979

I never really had aspirations outside of what was expected of me.

Have I always been so pitiful? Was I the only one who couldn’t see it?

15 November, 1979

I hear that the Potters are expecting their first child.

I wonder how Sirius will treat their baby.

I think I’m going crazy.

17 November, 1979

Tomorrow.

You flip through the journal hastily, and you feel your eyes sting in the darkness at the crushing realization.

Blank pages. Empty and unfeeling, and so telling of his fate.

You weren’t going to leave tomorrow.

Anders would have to drag you kicking and screaming. You wouldn’t give up on Regulus, not after everything he sacrificed.

You will do whatever it takes.

766 notes · View notes

turvi · 10 months

Note

Scotland Yard: Send me an au or a scenario, and I will write a fic for you.

Draco Malfoy and falling in love with a muggle.

Like after the war he settles in a nice muggle neighborhood and makes friends with the kind neighbour next door who ofc isn't aware of magic and then he finds himself falling for her.

Happy ending please cuz <33

LUCKY CHARM

WARNING: CANON DEATH, ANGST, KISSING

Draco entered his temporary and desolate house. The air in the house was colder than the air outside. It was contrasting the blossoming colours of spring outside. It was dark and cold. He immediately closed the door. Even though no one will recognise him here, he fears being identified.

He quickly settled in. He had brought minimum luggage with him. What was the point of carrying his belongings where he didn't belong?

Draco moved his belongings into what would be his bedroom. His eyes fell on the mirror. He no longer recognised the person he had become. His older self was a distant memory. His face looked ashen, his eyes colder than before.

He sat on the bed, contemplating whether he should check up on his parents, but he couldn't even bring himself to move. Draco looked out of the window. The muggles cheerfully chat and walk unbeknownst to the jeopardy that the wizarding world had fallen into. Yes, Harry managed to kill The Dark Lord. But at what cost.

Three days ago, he had found himself in front of the Burrow. His jaw clenched, and his fingers twitched. He didn't really know why he was here. What he had done could not be forgotten by a simple apology. But he found himself grieving Fred's death. It was his fault he was dead. They wouldn't want to see him, especially George. Yes, he would actively show his dislike for the Weasleys, but he still grieved that they lost their child. And George lost his twin. He can't imagine what he must be going through.

Suddenly he looked up to see Molly had spotted him, and she was making her way to the front door. But when she opened it, he was gone.

Two months later, Draco was finally able to leave the house. The sunlight felt brighter than usual, or maybe the solitude was getting the better of him. He kept his head down, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

He tried looking for shops that had fewer customers. Within the next ten steps, he found a cafe. It looked brand new. In fact, it was so new it looked like he was the first customer.

The cafe looked cosy. He observed the artwork that was on the wall. It suited the minimalist look of the cafe.

"You want something?." Draco flinched and turned to see a girl beside him. Her apron was covered in flour and chocolate, he smelled a hint of vanilla off of her, and the dim light above her made her look angelic. Even though she looked his age but the bright smile on her lips made her look a few years younger.

"Uh...no, I am...I am just looking around." Draco thought his response was good. He wanted to remain forgettable. He kept his eyes on the paintings despite his earlier distaste for them. But he couldn't pay attention to them. The scent of vanilla grew stronger.

He realised she was closer, looking at the paintings too. She was still smiling. That made Draco frown. She cleared her throat. "Let me know if you need anything. I will be behind the counter. Not like I can go anywhere." She awkwardly smiled. He didn't want her to stop smiling. She felt like a breath of fresh air. The scent of vanilla on her didn't help either.

Draco looked at the delicious treats that were on display. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. His stomach grumbled. The girl wordlessly went behind the counter to reheat a chocolate pastry.

"Here." She handed him the dessert with a sweet smile. Draco offered his own little smile as he ate the pastry. His eyes fluttered, and he stifled a moan. Being the only heir to the Malfoy family, he had access to all kinds of luxuries. He had tasted all kinds of expensive and imported desserts, but they all failed in front of this simple pastry.

"Did you like it?" As much as she tried to hide it, Draco was still able to detect a sense of insecurity in her, a feeling he was too familiar with. And while Draco had initially thought to just pay for her efforts and leave but he felt wrong to go without saying anything.

"It's actually good," Draco told her, avoiding looking into her eyes. "When did you open this shop?" he asked nervously, but her sweet smile and calm voice eased him up.

"Last week. And you are my first customer." Draco couldn't help but smile at her optimism.

"Well, I am sure you will get more customers." As soon as he said that they heard the door creak open and an elderly woman slowly made her way to the counter.

"Hi...do you sell cookies?" she asked sweetly, and the girl excitedly nodded before she went into the kitchen. The old lady smiled at Draco, and he smiled back. But Draco frowned. He felt like he had seen this old lady before. He couldn't remember where. Suddenly he felt her cold, wrinkly hand on his cheek. "It's not your fault."

Draco forgot how to breathe for a second and saw as the girl came back and handed the lady cookies. He looked at her wide-eyed as she sweetly thanked the girl and went away like nothing happened. Leaving Draco in his thoughts.

Weeks went by, and the crowd in her cafe grew. Drace was one of them. He was a regular now. He often had a craving for her sweet treats. He eventually learnt her name when he accidentally spilt his coffee on her counter when she opened her hair to relieve the pain in her scalp from holding it in a bun all day.

"Y/n L/n, such a sweet name." he smiled at her as he helped her clean her counter. Even their conversations were regular now. It took him time to open up to her, but eventually, she became his sunlight after a dark storm.

"Thank you, I like your name too. It's unique." she looked up to see him looking at her lips and immediately looking away. She felt her cheeks warm but didn't point out that she caught him staring. Y/n wanted him to be comfortable around her and not overwhelm him with her blooming romantic feelings for him.

"Oh, I have a new dish on my menu. Wanna try it?" Y/n excitedly offers, wanting to impress the blonde man.

"Only if I get a discount." Draco cheekily smiled, and that was the first time she saw him come out of his shelf. She smirked, and Draco thought she couldn't look more beautiful. "Better you are getting it for free."

"Why am I special?" he asked as he leaned on the counter, trying to look smug, yet internally he was shaking nervously. "Nah, just my guinea pig."

He liked the sound of being hers. The amount of time he had spent here in her company, where he knew at first he was an insufferable twat, but her patience and kindness and her sweet treats had slowly broken down the walls he had created.

"Would you like to go out someday?" Draco was surprised at his own confidence. He tightly gripped the counter, anticipating her rejection, when her sweet voice comforted him again. "I would love that. Where are you thinking?"

He was immediately at a loss for words. "Uh...uhm...nowhere...really. I was thinking maybe we could explore the town. I haven't been outside in a while, so maybe you could take me to your favourite spots?"

"Ok, tomorrow after I close the cafe?"

Draco nodded. "Yep, it's a date." he quickly walked towards the door, his heart healing at the sound of her giggles.

The mirror in his room now showed a different reality. His face looked healthier. His smile dropped for a minute as the thought of his parents crossed his mind. He will talk to them. But not now. Today he will spend time with Y/n.

When he got out of his house, he immediately spotted her. She smiled when she saw him. Her appearance felt brighter than the sunlight. Does she know she is beautiful? That when she is in front of him, he forgets about the world and his problems.

He swallowed thickly when she got closer. He fixed his hair and clothes, offering her his arm. "Shall we?"

"Ohh, what a gentleman." his breathing got heavier when he felt her gentle touch on his arm. He didn't deserve her. She didn't know the crimes he had done. She doesn't know the person he was in the wizarding world. For her, he was just another man. But she will stop smiling at him when she knows what he has done.

His train of thought was stopped when he felt her warm palm on his arm, her eyes focused only on him. He wanted to cry, beg for forgiveness but he felt too numb to even move.

"Are you ok? It's alright if you changed your mind about this."

His eyes teared up to see that she really meant what she said. Y/n took his hands in her hands looking up at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I...I am sorry I just need some time. I am ok." He will tell her when the time is right and he knew he can trust her as he watched her smile assuredly at him.

"We don't need to rush. I am here for you."

He watched her eyes flutter as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Draco cupped her cheek looking into her eyes "Thank you so much." He gently brushed his nose with hers. "Can I?"

"Please"

Draco heard her breath hitch when gently kissed her lips, now cupping her face with both his hands, his heart overpowering his brain as he deepened the kiss when he felt her kiss back. They broke the kiss breathlessly looking into each other's eyes. "I'm sorry"

She smiled and pecked his lips. "Don't be, I like this. I like you."

Draco smiled widely. "Would mind if I kissed you again?"

She smirked. "I would if you won't."

And he did. He didn't know what he felt for her, or what it was but he felt ready to figure out his feelings for Y/n. He hugged her and wondered what was in store for them now?

A/N: I probably hinted at part 2 oh well let me know if you want that. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

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shadowbriar · 1 year

Text

George Weasley - Delicate

Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Reader Word Count : 4.1k Warning : Heavy angst as requested. Notes : I got a little bit carried away with this one.

Their laughter echoes within the walls of the Common Room. Her face was burning, both from fluster and the fatigued muscles of her face from the non stop smile. She was sitting the furthest from the fireplace yet she could’ve sworn that her skin was flaming in fire. Her eyes are glued on him, watching every gesture, every breathy laughter and every cheers he made. He was the centre of her life, the very source of her drive.

But she supposed, so is the whole castle.

She’s reminded every other time they have a conversation that she’s merely one from his long list of admirers. Being the calmer twin only meant that it was easier for girls to approach him. Girls would come at him, giving him love letters and other trinkets in hope to catch just a glimpse of his attention. And every single time, she has to pretend that the gesture didn’t bother her because what exactly could she do? It isn’t like she has a chance with him in the first place.

George Fabian Weasley was the definition of perfection. At least, in her dictionary. He was smart, within and outside of academic achievements. He knew exactly how to brighten the room, which jokes to crack and what prank to do to lift the mood. He was kind and affectionate. Everything a girl could dream of their knight in shining armour would be.

“Have you heard?” Some girl from her left whispered to another yet loud enough for her to hear “Fred Weasley has asked someone to be his date, meaning only George’s still up on the market.”

“Really? Who’s he going with?”

“Angelina!” The other girl answers “It’s no surprise really, seeing how close they are from quidditch practices.”

“I suppose so. Do you think George would ask someone from the quidditch team too, then? Alicia perhaps?”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if he does. They’re like honey and bees, especially lately. I think they might’ve been an item already.”

She chews on her lower lip, trying to maintain the calm composure she’s losing through her fingertips. She too has noticed the not so subtle closeness George and Alicia have these days. He’s spent more time taking care of the quidditch equipment with her, coming to the Great Hall together for meals, and doing his paperworks together. All the mentioned activities, aside from quidditch practice, were normally done with her, not Alicia. To say that she felt replaced would be an understatement.

But she knew deep down that she has no right to ever feel disappointed and hurt. George was never hers to begin with. The sense of belonging was only felt one sided, never reciprocated by the other end. She was the only one holding onto every little mundane thing they shared as if they were her life milestones.

“Neville asked me to be his date.” Ginny says, whispering excitedly as she squeezes in to sit next to her.

She flashes a smile, squeezing Ginny’s arm in a warm response, “That’s brilliant, Ginny!”

“Mhm,” Ginny nods eagerly “Have you found a decent date yet?”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure that I’ll be going.” She says with a soft laughter “Balls and dances are not my thing.”

“What are you talking about, balls and dances are every girls’ thing!”

She smiles, averting her eyes back to the pranksters who are still cracking their jokes.

Ginny’s right, balls and dances are every girls’ thing. A huge part of her was screaming and hoping that she could go to the ball with her charming prince, spending the night as they waltzed to some romantic song, being completely intoxicated with each other’s presence. But the thought feels like nothing but a mere dream now that she uses her head more than her heart. Exactly how long would she entertain herself with the blissful fake scenarios where her love was reciprocated?

“It would be a fun night, don’t you think?” Ginny asks, still persuading her “Imagine how beautiful the Great Hall would be, the music, the food, everything! And we get to dress up! Out of these insipid robes for once.”

“I suppose.”

“What is making you so uninterested?” Ginny asks with raised brows “If you can’t find a bloke worthy enough, I can ask one of my brothers to escort you. I’m sure one of them would be delighted to be your date.”

“No, please don’t.” She says fast, afraid the younger Weasley would pursue her wild idea. With Fred escorting Angelina and Ron who seems to be so determined to ask one of the Beauxbatons, George would be the only brother left for Ginny to ask the favour and although it would’ve been nice to have George asked her for the ball, being asked merely out of pity would be the one embarrassment she could not live with.

“You’re right. None of my brothers are deserving enough to escort you.” Ginny says as she watches the twins fuse a firecracker “You know what, the ball is still weeks away. I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

She remains quiet, only replying to the redhead girl with a small smile.

She knew that the possibility of her being escorted by George to the ball was slim to none. The distance that’s slowly growing between them is becoming a hurtful thorn that’s piercing deeper into her heart each day. From day one she knew that there would be no chance of him ever returning her feelings. Why should he when he could choose literally any other girl?

—-

Her mind was loud. The ball is approaching close and there’s still no news of George having a date just yet. It was as if she was stuck in a labyrinth, every step she took led to another door that just further fuelled her insecurity. Perhaps George has asked someone in private, unlike his twin brother who asked Angelina in public. George has always been the more reserved twin after all.

But wouldn’t he want to share the happy news if he indeed does have a date? She knew that their friendship had been strained for the past few months, but something as special as a Yule Ball date would surely be something he’d want to share with her. She’s been his best secret keeper after all.

Understanding that slumber wouldn’t be her friend tonight, she peels herself off of her blanket and walks outside of the room. Perhaps she could ask the house elves a tiny favour of hot milk and biscuits to help. Or maybe a late night stroll would make her tired enough to fall asleep. Either of which seems like a better idea than to ponder herself with these unanswered questions.

Walking down the staircase, she could hear faint noise of music from the Common Room. Laughter was heard louder as she descended closer. There were two people, a boy and a girl’s voice echoing through the walls. One’s voice she would recognise anywhere anytime.

“Alright, I think that’s enough practice for the night.” The boy says with slight pants “I think tomorrow I’ll ask- Hey, you.”

She was frozen on her spot. The sight she’s just witnessed would be the bane of her nightmares to follow. There they were, her hands resting casually on his shoulders, big happy grins plastered on their faces. The very position she wishes she could be with him. Close and intimate.

“George, Alicia,” She says softly, forcing a smile and fighting the tears welling up her eyes “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not interrupting anything. We’re about to get to bed, too.” Alicia answers with a warm smile “Where are you heading?”

“Kitchen.” She says short “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh, can I join you?” George asks, a warm smile evident on his face “I could use a glass of milk too.”

She stares at George’s innocent eyes with defeat, thankful of the limited light showering them both so he wouldn’t see the disappointment and sadness she’s feeling. How could he stand there and still look as beautiful and charming as he always had when he’s just broken her heart into pieces?

“No, actually I’d rather you not, George.” She says softly, not being able to look at his face a second longer “I need some space and time alone with my thoughts.”

Without waiting for his response, she walks out of the Common Room in a haste. Her tears were flowing just when she reached the staircase, unable to hold them any longer. Her nightmare has happened. Every bad scenario she tried so hard to push out of her head has finally come true.

George Weasley has a date for the Yule Ball.

—-

The following days have been hell. Hours spent detached to reality while nights would be filled with her silent cries. She has emptied her bottle of non-puffy potion to help ease her swollen eyes, but it was to no avail. Her sadness is bleeding out of her.

She’s tried her best to avoid George. Exchanging her seat in every class they shared and would leave before George could reach her. She doesn’t even take her meals on her usual spot at their table anymore. She reckons that her spot has been long occupied by another now that he’s got a new bird to entertain.

She knew that from the beginning she stood no chance to be with him. She knew that she was just another background girl in his bright and daring life, praying that with whatever miracle there is he would spare just a glance and wave her a smile. Yet with all this knowledge and understanding, why does it still hurt? Why does it still torment her everytime the memory of him and Alicia plays in her mind?

“Love, wait!” George calls, running and barely able to catch her as he pulls her hand “Blimey, do I have a stench or something? You’ve been avoiding me like I was the plague!”

“I’m busy, George.” She says, prying her hand off of him “Now if you’ll excuse me-”

“Not so fast.” He says, stopping her by placing a hand in front of her “I just need a minute of your time, please. It won’t be long. There’s something rather urgent I need to speak to you about.”

She wanted to flee from him. Run as fast as her legs could carry her and go back to her room, hide under her blanket and wait until the weeks passed. She’s demented enough, couldn’t he tell? What could he possibly want to talk to her now that he’s got Alicia? Couldn’t he just leave her be?

“Please,” George begs once more “I’m only asking for a minute of your time.”

Looking at his pleading eyes, she finally gave in and gave a slight nod.

He grins in victory, clapping his hand, “Right, so uh- Godric, I don’t know where to start.”

She stares at his eyes. A sense of nervousness was evident from his face. George rubs his palms to his trousers, trying to maintain his cool composure though it’s clear that he’s losing it. She wonders if these jolts were caused by his excitement for sharing the big news with her. A little bit overdue, sure, but it’s not like she’s given him the chance to tell her that he’s seeing Alicia.

“I have something to ask you.” He starts, a nervous smile decorating his face “It’s, uh, it’s about girls.”

She takes a sharp breath, “Right.”

“I, uh, I have a bit of trouble on said topic.” He continues, beating around the bushes to find the right words to say “You know how the Yule Ball is coming, right? And I, uh, there’s this girl that I wanted to ask to be my date. I know that time’s wearing thin and I should’ve asked her the first time the ball was announced but I just couldn’t muster the courage to ask her, you know? I don’t want to come as too strong or anything, she’s a rather special girl.”

She grips her robe tighter, trying to keep her emotions packed. She couldn’t break down in front of him, not when he looks like he’s flustered and in need of a friend to talk to.

“She’s a close friend of mine.” George says, smiling as he begins to describe her “She’s brilliant, to say the least. I just- I can’t find the words to describe her but take it from me, she’s the most brilliant girl there is.”

She says softly, forcing a smile, “You seem to be so fond of her.”

Fighting her tears, she wasn’t sure why George hadn't mentioned Alicia’s name once when she had already caught them red handed the other night. It wasn't exactly a secret for her anymore, so why not just say her name instead of describing how wonderful she is? Doesn’t he know that it’s hurting her?

“I am.” He nods, looking completely intoxicated with admiration “I’m head over heels for her.”

“What exactly is your problem with her then?” She says, sounding a little bit more rude than she expected to but she clearly couldn’t stand another second hearing him swooning over Alicia “You said you two are close.”

“I- Well,” George stutters, completely caught off guard from her irritated tone “I suppose, I wanted to ask for your opinion. If you were in her shoes, how would you like me to ask you for the ball?”

She lets out a scoff. Is this boy for real now? Asking how she would like him to ask her for the ball? Isn’t that just plain cruel?

“What do you want, George?” She asks with more annoyance in her tone “Why are you asking me this? I mean haven’t you been occupied with Alicia lately? Shouldn’t you ask for her opinion or approval instead?”

“I- Well, I have asked Alicia actually but she said I should ask you.”

“Oh, so you’re here because your plan with Alicia didn’t go well? Is that what this is?” She argues, anger and hurt clouding her mind “Is that really all that I am to you? A back up plan? Someone you go to when things aren’t going well with your bird?”

George raises an eyebrow, looking bewildered, “Love, what- I just- What are you talking about?”

“Look, George, I really don’t have time for this.” She says fast before letting herself get even more angry “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out with Alicia, but frankly speaking you have tons of other girls you can ask with so just pick one and be done with it.”

Before George could utter another word, she left him in a hurry. She takes big angry steps away from the redhead boy, praying that her leg could carry her as furthest as it could. The puppy pleading eyes of his would haunt her. She knew that she’s being an arse for spitting him right on the face where he clearly needs someone to talk to, but she couldn't let herself drown even deeper. She couldn’t let him drag her further to the pit of despair. He’s hurt her just enough.

—-

The dreadful night finally comes. In contrast to the happy and excited looks of her friends, she drank the glass of non-alcoholic drink with a frown. If it wasn’t for Ginny dragging her by the neck, she wouldn’t have stepped a foot to the Great Hall tonight.

Taking the empty seat beside her, Ron let out a huff of annoyance. His shoulders were dropped, hair dishevelled and face red in embarrassment. His date was nowhere to be seen, that is if he’s got one in the first place. The dress robe he’s wearing and the long face he’s showing is making it hard for her to tell.

“You having fun?”

Ron rolled his eyes, “The best night of my life.”

“Mine too.” She sighs “I just want to hex myself to death, you know?”

Taking a look at the room, her eyes stopped at the sight of George, talking casually with his date in the corner of the room. Things worked out in the end, she reckons. They’ve finally sorted their problem and he finally got Alicia as his date. She wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved that he’s finally got to go with her, the girl he so much praised about, or should she hate him even more for rubbing his happiness on her face.

“Where’s your date?”

She shrugs, “I don’t have one.”

“Bullshit.” Ron chuckles yet stops right away as he notices her seriousness “You haven’t got a date?”

Once again, she shrugs.

“But why don’t you? I thought you already had someone, that's why you rejected my brother.”

“Your brother?” She asks, raising an eyebrow “What are you talking about?”

“Well, George’s been saying that he’s going to ask you to be his date since the ball was announced, but a couple days ago he said he’s going with Alicia instead, so I figured you must’ve had a date already.” Ron confesses, face full of confusion “He even asked her to teach him the dance so he won’t make a fool of himself in front of you, you know.”

She closes her eyes as her brain tries to digest the new information. She facepalms herself, realising the grave mistake she’s made for giving in to the bad scenarios she over-thinks about. She should’ve let George finish his words that day. She should’ve waited for him a little longer. She should’ve given him the benefit of the doubt and let him explain himself. All these disastrous nights could’ve been avoided if she had been a little bit more patient with him.

“Merlin, I screwed up everything.” She whispers, turning to Ron “Do you think he’d forgive me? Do you think George would ever forgive me for being such an arse?”

Ron chuckles, “Are you kidding? My brother’s mental about you. You can rip his heart out and stomp it to the ground and he’d still kiss the dirt you stepped on.”

She smiles, cheek tainted in light blush.

“But please don’t tell him I told you that.” Ron said fast, realising the secret he’s spilled “He’ll have my head if he knew I told you about his crush.”

She chuckles and nods.

The night felt lighter with Ron to accompany her. That or the fact that she knew more of George’s feelings about her. Perhaps she’s placed too much attention to his surroundings to ever realise where his eyes are actually at. The girls fighting over his affection had blinded her from the fact that she was the only one he ever wanted to impress. She was the only one he wanted to be with.

“Evening, you two.” A voice greets, an unsure smile plastered on his face “Lovely ball, isn’t it?”

“Right, that’s my cue.” Ron says in a low volume, loud enough for her to hear him before standing up and leaving “She’s all yours, George.”

George squinted his eyes, eyeing his younger brother with a suspicious look but chose to say nothing. He turned to see her, smiling and taking the spot Ron left, “You look lovely tonight.”

“As do you.” She says with a smile “Much more handsome than usual.”

A hint of blush appears on his face.

George chews on his lower lip, looking as if there’s something fighting its way out of his lips. The palm of his hands were getting clammier, his heart was beating at an alarmingly fast rate. He’s been trying to find the words to apologise to her from their misunderstanding yet now he seems to have lost every word he’s ever known. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t sure what he should be apologising for, but remembering her reaction the other day, he knew that he made a mistake and whatever it was he’s desperate to fix it.

“Do you want to dance?” She asks, breaking his internal argument to stop “I mean, if Alicia’s fine with that of course.”

He blinks, stuttering, “Of course, yeah, sure! She’s fine with it, she couldn’t care less.”

With a satisfied grin, George stood up and held his hand out. She gladly accepts it, letting him lead the way to the dance floor. The music has come to the calmer side now that people begin to leave the Great Hall. It’s beginning to be late after all.

She places her hands on his shoulders as he rests his on her waist. Both were looking visibly nervous, afraid that they would make the wrong move and step on the other’s foot. Neither would mind if such a thing happened, to be truthfully honest. The world could burn and crumble right on this very second and they wouldn’t even notice as they drown themselves in each other’s gazes.

“I, uh,” George stammers, shoulders slightly shaking from the nerve wrecking havoc inside him “I want to apologise for the other day. I don’t know what happened but I figured you’re right, I’ve kind of been too occupied with Alicia lately. I’m sorry for that.”

She shakes her head, “No, don’t be. I was being unreasonable and dumped you my frustration when you were innocent all along. I should be the one apologising, George. I’m really sorry.”

“What were you stressing about?” He asks softly “Mind sharing them with me?”

“It’s silly, really.”

“Nothing’s ever silly about you.” He cuts in, eyes still glued on her “If it’s bothering you that much then it must be something serious.”

She shows a small smile, contemplating if she should be blunt and speak her mind, “I’ve been feeling more insecure lately. I feel like I’m not good enough for someone, like I’m just someone easily disposed of and replaced with.”

“Someone?” He asks, eyes softening and looking guilty “Please don’t say that I’m the culprit.”

She remains quiet.

“Oh, Love.” George sighs, understanding her silence “I’m really sorry. I never meant for you to think that I’ve replaced you, I never intended to. You’re someone I could never replace, believe me. Nothing’s happening with Alicia and me, she was just being a friend, I promise.”

George continues with his long apologise yet she couldn’t process any of his words. Her eyes were locked on his lips, wondering how blissful it would be to kiss them. Her heart was beating fast, she could only pray that he wouldn’t hear its loud thumps. Her skin was hot, an unfamiliar tension building inside her.

“I like you.”

George was stunned. He looked at her with widened eyes. The confession caught him off guard, causing his brain to completely shut down.

“I like you, George Weasley.” She confesses once more, this time with a tone more firm and assured than before “And I’m really sorry that my feelings only caused us to fight. I just- I’ve seen the girls who've tried to approach you. I’ve seen how much prettier, smarter, and better they are than me and I just- I couldn’t help but to feel inferior than them.”

He remains quiet, listening to each of her words with full attention.

“You could pick any girl in this castle, George. You have a long list of admirers and I just-” She paused, smiling pitifully to herself “The thought of you ever reciprocating my feelings is just too good to be true.”

George’s hands moved to cupped her cheeks. He caresses her cheek gently, staring at her with a smile, “Can I kiss you?”

She nods lightly, showing a faint smile.

With a warm smile, George leans in. The kiss was gentle, as if he feared she would pull away anytime. His hands never left her cheeks, gently rubbing her skin as if she was the most precious thing he’s ever held. He’s holding her ever so tenderly, making her feel like she was the most delicate thing he’s ever laid fingers on.

“I’m sorry that you ever feel that way, Love.” George whispers as they pull away, his eyes never leaving hers “For what it’s worth, there’s never been anyone more important to me than you. You’re the only one I have eyes for and I’m sorry for not making it clear before, but if you’ll have me, I promise I’ll spend each day proving that you’re the one best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“You’re going to lose your admirers.” She says, smiling from his lovely confession.

“Fred can have them.” He says, rolling his eyes “I’m sure he’ll be more than delighted.”

She chuckles.

“So, is that a yes?”

She makes a thinking face, teasing the boy, “Maybe I could use one more kiss. To make myself sure and all, you know.”

“Just one?” George questions, chuckling “Here I am willing to kiss you all night.”

“Shut up and just kiss me already.”

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