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When Three Became Two 🪽| Platonic!Weasley Twins Imagine

Set during the Battle of Hogwarts

Harry Potter masterlist

Characters & Pairings: George & Fred Weasley x Sister!Weasley Triplet (platonic), the Golden Trio x weasley!sister (platonic)

Content Warnings: Character Death, sadness, angst, mentions of blood and major injury, profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 7k

Premise: The dynamic redheaded duo Fred & George were never particularly close with their older triplet sister Y/N, especially after she was sorted into Slytherin during their first year at Hogwarts. It is not till the Battle of Hogwarts do the twins realize just how important family is, but by then it was too late to make amends.

(Y/E/C)- Your eye color

Note: I’m going to put red hair because you know Weasley but if you want to envision your own hair color that is totally fine too. Also, just so y'all know....I started this piece back in 2018 and recently picked it back up. So....the last 400 words are pretty much the most recent material I added + i did A LOT of editing. So I apologize if the beginning is trash because like I said, 6k of the nearly 7k words are from 6 years ago. I've been hyperfixating on the Weasley twins again which is why I was like 'maybe I should finish that imagine I started...'

Italics are flashbacks

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Y/n Weasley felt the sweat and blood drip off her forehead as she ran through the halls of the school she had spent several years in which became a second home to her. She was out of breath, dodging and reflecting spells that were casted her way from the surrounding death eaters. Screams and shouts echoed from every corner, flashes of red and green light nearly blinding her (Y/E/C) eyes while her flaming red hair swished when she ran. Her breath was wavering, she could see several of her fellow Order members dueling around her. Passing the Great Hall, her pace nearly faltering when her eyes locked on the doors, the memory of walking through the first time when she was just a nervous little eleven year old began to play in the redheads mind….

Y/n sighed, stepping off the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Her twin brothers had already raced to the boats leaving the smaller, although older, of the three behind. Picking up her robes that were slightly dragging due to her small stature, Y/n followed her fellow classmates to the boating docks, casting a smile to Hagrid as she walked past him, who in return smiled back. She found a boat that already had two other first years seated, and quickly took the spot adjacent to a girl about her age.

“Hi,” the girl smiled to the redhead, “I’m Angelina Johnson. What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n Weasley, it’s nice to meet you,” the two shook hands with smiles.

“What house are you hoping to be in?”

“Honestly,” Y/n sighed, “I’m not sure. My whole family has been in Gryffindor, including my two older brothers who are currently here. It would be nice to be sorted there so I have my family, but I’ve always felt different.”

“Are those other two ginger boys your brothers?” Angelina pointed to the boat where Fred and George were laughing loudly while talking with a dark-skinned boy. Y/n nodded after looking where Angelina was pointing, turning back with a grim expression.

“Yeah, that’s Fred and George. We’re triplets, I’m the oldest of the bunch yet I never seem to be included in anything.”

“Aw, that’s not right,” Angelina said with a frown. The two continued to talk the entire boat ride to the castle, learning about their backgrounds and finding out  they had several similar interests. One could tell that the two instantly connected and were on the road to becoming best friends. The two girls got off the boat once it got to the docks, Y/n helping Angelina when she nearly tripped as she got out, to which the young girl was grateful for. 

“Oh my gosh thank you!” Angelina exclaimed, “That would have been so embarrassing.” Y/n laughed slightly, fixing the girl’s robes.

“No problem, I wouldn't want you tripping on the first night and being made fun of before classes even started.” The two girls followed everyone to the entrance of the castle, beaming in awe of everything they passed. Climbing the steps that lead to the great hall seemed like forever, but soon they were faced with an older woman who wore a pointed hat on top of her head and green robes. 

“Good evening,” she greeted, “I am Professor McGonagall. In a few moments, the doors behind me will open and you will enter the Great Hall where you will then be sorted into one of the four houses named after the four founding members of Hogwarts; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin--.” She continued to explain the four houses to the children before the doors opened. When they did, Professor McGonagall escorted the group into the Great Hall. Many looked at the ceiling, gasping at the candles floating in midair. Some caught the eyes of soon to be fellow classmates, the students sending smiles to the young ones. 

The group halted in front of the steps leading to the podium. The members of the head table gazed down on the children, Headmaster Dumbledore giving them a warm smile to welcome them making many feel more at ease. Professor McGonagall stood beside a stool, on top of it was a brown pointed hat. 

“When I call your name,” she said, capturing everyone's attention, “You will step up, take a seat on the stool and I will place the sorting hat on your head where you will be sorted into your houses.” Y/n felt her hands become clammy, nerves racking through here with each name being called getting closer to hers. When Angelina was called and sorted into Gryffindor, Y/n clapped for her with a smile, happy for her new friend. She immediately hoped she would also be sorted into the house to be with not only her older brothers, but also with Angelina. 

“Weasley, Fred.” The ginger boy raced up the stairs, careful not to trip over his robes and took a seat on the stool with a grin. The hat was placed onto his head and it took only moments before the hat exclaimed, “GRYFFINDOR!!” Cheers erupted from the lion house, the older Weasley boys, Charlie and Percy, clapping loudly for their brother and greeting him with open arms when he ran to the table. George was called next, the boy also running to the stool and the Gryffindor house applauded with joy once more hearing the sorting hat call out the name again. Fred and George embraced in a big hug, happy they were going to be in the same house and sat next to each other beside their brothers. 

The room went quiet and Professor McGonagall read out the name many had already guessed was next, “Weasley, Y/n.” The small eleven-year-old let out a shaky breath, ascending the steps before taking a seat on the stool. She flinched when the hat was placed on her head and heard a gasp emitted from it.

“Ahh another Weasley,” the hat began, “only you are much different than your many siblings huh? Loyal to your family, a trait you value, but Hufflepuff is not for you. There is no doubt you are brave like a Gryffindor, there will be a time your bravery will be put to the test, but there is a strong ambition that lies within you. You are a very determined young one, and will do anything to accomplish your goals.” Y/N felt her heart begin to beat faster as the hat continued talking, “So, there is only one house in which you will find what you are looking for and that is SLYTHERIN!!”

That day, while no one wanted to admit it, changed everything. The twins hardly ever talked to Y/N, even less than what they already had. Many of the Slytherins ignored her, not enjoying the fact that a member of the blood-traitor family was sorted into the notorious pure-blood house. Even though Y/N was of pure blood, it did not matter to them, she was still relatively shunned from her housemates. Professor Snape was displeased at first until she proved she had a talent for potion making, becoming more advanced than any student he had ever taught. It was then he treated the Weasley girl with some actual respect and even allowed her to practice in the classroom whenever she pleased as long as she promised to never let her brothers get their hands on any of the ingredients he stored in the room. 

Charlie, Angelina, and Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff seemed to be the only people besides her parents and professors that looked beyond the fact she was in Slytherin. Others included her older brother Bill, her younger sister Ginny and eventually Hermione Granger. The bushy haired Gryffindor met the older Weasley in her first year at Hogwarts. After being told of the talented potion maker from Ron, Hermione sought to meet her. Y/N was shocked when the girl first introduced herself, but it was the start of a treasured friendship Y/N held dear to her. 

“Hi!” a cheerful voice sounded, causing Y/N to look up from her textbook. Her eyes met the warm brown ones of a petite girl bushy haired girl sporting a Gryffindor tie and robes. The Slytherin girl gazed at her confused, looking around  the library in case she was addressing someone else other than her. By the warm smile the first-year gave her, Y/N realized she was in fact talking to her. 

“Uh hi?” she said with a questionable tone, brows furrowed. The girl stuck her hand out which made Y/N slightly flinch by how fast the movement was.

“I’m Hermione Granger,” she introduced. Y/N hesitantly extended her own hand, clasping it with the girl's small one and shook it lightly.

“Y/N Weasley.”

“I know,” Hermione smiled, “Ron told me about you. Well he did not tell me much except your name and that you were in Slytherin. He also mentioned you were really good with potions and Snape likes you.” Y/N could not help but slightly chuckle at the last sentence.

“I wouldn’t say Snape ‘likes’ me, but he certainly tolerates me more than my siblings. You’ve probably already seen that the twins are pranksters, they tend to cause him immense distress.” This made Hermione laugh and Y/N felt her lips curl up. She then noticed the girl holding several textbooks, one of which was a first-year potions book, “Is there anything I can help you with Hermione?” 

“I just wanted to get to know you,” the girl said warmly, which made Y/N slightly shocked. “Ron and the twins did not speak much about you and when they did they made it seem like you were horrible just because you were sorted into Slytherin. I know that a house does not define who a person really is, so I wanted to talk to you myself and it appears you are not a mean or evil person that your house makes people think you are.” Y/N could not believe what she was hearing and she could not detect any hint of a lie in the girl's words. 

“Wow,” She breathed, “Sorry, I’m just a little taken back. It’s been a while since I’ve really heard anyone say that. Only my older siblings, minus Percy, my parents, my sister, and a few people who I happen to be friends with think the same way you do. Ron and the twins just really ignore me.”

“But aren’t you and the twins actually triplets?” The question caused Y/N to frown and look down at her book.

“Yeah,” she muttered softly, “We are. Many people forget that we are because we never act like it, but it’s okay, I’m used to the two leaving me out. It happened before we were sorted into our houses so it does not bother me much anymore. I’ve learned to live with it.” Hermione frowned at that, feeling sad for the older Weasley.

“That’s not right. You guys are siblings, family. They should not treat you like that.” 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. One day they will realize how they act wrong, until then I can only be patient.” Hermione nodded though she still possessed a frown  and Y/N pushed away the many books laid on the table, gesturing for the girl to take a seat. “Here, sit down. You said you want to get to know me, so let's just talk while we do our homework and you can see how I really am compared to what Ron tells you. I’ll even help you with potions if you need.” Hermione beamed, placing her books on the table and sitting down across from the redhead. The two talked for hours until it was time for curfew, getting to know one another and Y/N offering help when Hermione had a question on a certain subject and Y/N felt it was the start of a blossoming friendship.

The years continued, and Y/N only had few friends, hardly ever seeing her siblings due to them all being sorted into Gryffindor leaving her alone. Her friendship with Hermione grew and she even looked at the girl as a sister, the Gryffindor looking at her the same way. Y/N and Angelina remained close even after being sorted in different houses. Despite having few friends, she could not wait to graduate and finally go off on her own, already planning to continue her work in potions and become a potioneer after spending countless summers devoted to perfecting different elixirs. Several events happened during her time at Hogwarts, including her sister Ginny unlocking the Chamber of Secrets and the tragedy of the TriWizard Tournament. 

When the Order of the Phoenix was back in business to stop Voldemort following the death of her dear friend Cedric, Y/n immediately joined despite objections from her parents. The death of her friend caused immense grief. She became depressed in the following months, hardly sleeping due to nightmares of his corpse and she rarely ate, resulting in her facial features becoming more hollow. It was not until she joined the Order that she was back to her normal self and that was because of her determination to bring justice to Cedric’s death. The Order faced great loss. The deaths of Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody and with her brother George losing his ear proved how real the war was and the fight to make the world a safer place. 

Now it was the second of May, and the fight of everyone’s life was in place. Death Eaters swarmed every inch of Hogwarts, attacking students whether they were armed or not. Y/N ran down the corridors, deflecting spells and sending jinxes back and forth. Her adrenaline was soaring, not knowing where exactly she was headed, but the only thing she knew was to survive and protect the students around her. Y/n never thought she would ever cast the killing curse in her life, but when a second-year Hufflepuff was about to be killed, the spell left her mouth before she could stop herself. The Death Eater fell back unmoving, Y/n took the hand of the small boy she saved and hurried him to the nearest dormitory or classroom. 

“Here, go!” she ushered him into the room, “Stay here and do not leave! Hide somewhere and be alert, you understand?” The boy nodded furishouly, his small body shaking and clutching his wand tightly in his hand. The redhead raced out of the room, closing the door shut before darting down the hallway. A flash of familiar hair caught her eye and her feet carried her to the source. “Ginny!” She shouted upon seeing her sister. The younger Weasley halted her movement at the sound, turning around only to collide in the older one’s embrace. “Oh my God,” Y/n breathed, “Are you okay? Why are you out here? I thought you were to stay in the Room of Requirement until this was over?”

“Harry needed me to leave,” she told her sister, the two moving to a corner where they were slightly hidden from the battle, “He needed to search the room for a possible horcrux. Once he went in, I left and came here. I couldn’t just let my friends and family fight with the chances of them getting killed and just sit and wait!” Y/n sighed, bringing a hand to wipe the sweat on her face which resulted in more dirt being rubbed. 

“While I don’t like you being involved, I understand where you’re coming from.” She pauses to rub her nose bridge, placing her hands on Ginny’s shoulders to look at her sternly, “Mum and dad might kill me for letting you fight, but there’s really no time to negotiate and stop you. At least find Neville or someone who can stay close to you and keep you covered, okay?” Ginny nodded, embracing her sister once more in a tight hug. 

“Stay safe, sis.”

“I will,” Y/n told her, “You stay safe too, I’ll see you soon.” The two pulled away and Y/n bolted away down the hall while Ginny rushed to Tonks after seeing her battle a Death Eater and rushing to her aid. Y/n turned the corner, something in her stomach dropping and her intuition telling her something bad was about to happen. She heard the sound of a duel taking place and followed it. Familiar voices echoed in her ears and her pace picked up. The redhead rounded the corridor, jets of light flashing in her eyes and she spotted Fred and Percy battling Death Eaters while Harry, Ron, and Hermione helped while dodging incoming jinxes. 

“Hello, Minister!” Percy bellowed, sending a jinx at the man, “Did I mention I’m resigning?” 

“You’re joking, Perce!” Fred shouted and looked at his brother. Y/n watched the two and in the corner of eyes she could see a Death Eater with their wand raised. Her brothers could not see the man, and she noticed he was pointing at the wall directly behind them. Before she could think, Y/n sprinted as fast as her feet carried her, eyes widening when the flash of light emitted from the want of the assailant. At that moment, nothing mattered other than making sure her brothers were safe. All the years of being ignored and looked down upon by them due to being sorted in Slytherin seemed to vanish, and Y/n felt water line her eyes as she got closer. 

“You actually are joking, Perce… I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were--.”

“Fred! Percy!” Her scream ignited and the two snapped their heads toward her just in time for the redhead to push them both out of the way at the exact moment the air exploded around them. The two brothers along with the Golden Trio were flown back from the impact, all landing onto the stone ground with a groan. Pain erupted to several areas of their bodies which would surely bruise. Dust covered them, their vision blurred from how much was in the air. 

Fred pulled his body up, groaning from the pain in his side and coughing from how much dust filled his throat. He scanned the area and saw how the wall he was in front of was blasted apart with stone and wood now covering every inch of the ground with a large pile in the middle. It took two seconds for the ginger to realize what had happened, the last thing he saw was his sister running at him before he was flown back. He immediately got up and rushed to the pile of debris, staggering over the stones while shouting his sister's name.

“Y/n!!” He screamed, moving at a fast pace. “Y/n, can you hear me!” The boy began throwing the many pieces of stone and wood away from the pile, searching for any sign of movement and listening for sound. Percy and the trio joined in, the group shouting Y/n name and digging through the debris. “C’mon Y/n I need you to tell me where you are!” Fred grew more and more worried, feeling his heart sink by the second. It was not until he heard a pained groan and rushed to the source. He spotted a hand peeking through the rubble and Fred shouted for the others saying he found her. They all rushed to him, removing the stone covering Y/n's body, allowing Fred to pull her out of the wreckage when they were able to get her upper half revealed. She let out a scream, pain erupting all through her and Fred tried his best to get her out as gently as he could. 

“I got you, sis.” He said with a shaky voice, “I got you.” With one quick but harsh tug, Y/n was removed from the rubble and was laid onto the floor. Everyone surrounded her, becoming frozen by how much blood covered her body. Cuts and gashes painted her skin, her clothing ripped and chunks of stone were embedded into the many wounds. Her breath wavered, gasping for air and they all felt their heart race at the sight. Hermione, with shaky hands, pressed a palm on to a deep cut in Y/n’s neck. The Weasley girl hissed, blood filling her mouth and dripping down her lips. 

“You’re going to be okay, Y/n,” Hermoine’s voice cracked, trying not to look at the many wounds which the girl could tell will be fatal if not treated immediately. Ron could see a large gash right above his sister’s temple and gently laid his hand on top of it, while biting his lip to stop a sob from escaping. He knew it was bad, and his sister was dying in front of him. They needed a healer, but the Great Hall was several corridors away and Ron feared she would not make it in time. Percy began calling for help, applying pressure onto her stomach which had been cut open when a large piece of wood had impaled her. Harry stayed on his feet with his wand ready for any threats while also keeping his eye on Y/n, his heart dropping at the sight of her battered body. 

“I can’t--,” Y/n gasped with a tired breath as Fred held her hand, “I can’t feel my legs.” She could hear them gasp, Fred’s hand becoming tense in her hold. 

“We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey!” Fred shouted and went to pick her up, the others keeping their hands on her wounds to hold the bleeding but when they tried Y/n erupted in wails from the pain filling her by the slightest movement. It was like a volcano, fire filling her blood. The thick liquid poured out of her wounds, her skin becoming pale. Hermione’s hands were painted red, as were Ron and Percy’s. The sound of her screams were so loud it echoed through the nearby hallway and caused tears to stream down Hermione’s face.

“Stop!” she shouted, “Fred stop! It’s too late, she won’t make it!” 

“You don’t know that!” He yelled back trying to get his sister into his arms, his clothes now coated in red. Y/n began to shake from the pain, becoming numb by the intensity and Fred started to panic. 

“Fred, she’s losing too much blood,” Hermione cried, “She’ll bleed out before we can even get her to the Great Hall.”

“Are you serious, Hermione?!” Fred shouted in disbelief over the chaos around them, “Do you even hear yourself?! She’s your friend and you’re gonna let her die!? ”

“Fred stop,” Y/n's hoarse voice whispered. The ginger boy looked down at his sister, her upper body being held up in his arms while the others continued to put pressure on her wounds but blood continued to seep through their fingers. 

“What--?”

“She’s r-right,” Y/n interrupted, “I-I won’t make it. The pain is too much--I-I can’t move and I'm losing too much blood.” She was shaking, fighting against what was pulling her to the other side to have a few precious moments with her family. “You need to get out of here, go find mum and dad.” Fred could not believe what he was hearing, neither Ron nor Percy. All three boys felt their eyes water and Fred tightened his hold on her. Percy grabbed her other hand, and Ron kept his on her head, covering her wound while tears flooded his face. 

“Y/n,” Fred stuttered her name, “We can get you to a healer. Madam Pomfrey will help and she will heal you, you’ll be fine.” The words were more to convince himself. He watched as her lips curled up, tired and broken eyes looking into his. 

“Fred,” she sighed, “You and I both know that I am not going to make it.” A sob escaped his throat.

“No! You’re not dying! You’re going to be okay!” He cried, dropping his head so his cheek rested on her hair. “You’re going to get out of here. You’re going to go home and learn how to walk again and become a potioneer like you’ve always dreamed of. You’ll get married and have kids…” He trailed off when sobs overtook him and he began to cry into her hair. Fred never believed he would ever have to watch his sister die in his arms. He had never felt more pain in his life than in that moment watching her gasp for air as her life started to fade away. What made it even more painful was knowing she saved him in the process, “I was supposed to die, not you! Not you!” 

Fred started to think back to all the times he and George would ignore Y/n, never including her in pranks or just ordinary things. The moment she was sorted into Slytherin they acted like they were not even related at times and Fred felt more tears fall knowing he could never make up for it. He won’t ever get the chance to show her how sorry he was. 

“Y/N go get your brothers and tell them supper is ready.”

“Yes mum.” Y/N raced up the many flights of stairs in the burrow in search of her twin brothers. When she got to the room, she knocked gently and waited for a reply but did not hear one so she pushed it open to see the two boys sitting on the ground in between their beds with several items in front of them. 

“Hey, hey!” Fred shouted in surprise and George started to gather their many inventions away from her sight. “You can’t just come in here without saying anything!” Y/N frowned at him.

“I knocked,” she told him, “neither of you responded.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, “Still does not mean you can just walk in our room unannounced. We are doing something very exclusive and can’t risk you snitching it to mum or dad or your pal Snape.” Y/n’s eyes narrowed at her brother.

“Snape is not my ‘pal.’ He just stands me more than you lot because you are always causing him trouble.” George mumbled something under his breath, but the girl could not hear it. “And besides, I haven’t told anyone about your previous antics so why would I do so now?”

“Oh please,” Fred said in an annoyed tone, “we know you told Filch that we were the ones who put fireworks in his office second-year.” Y/N’s jaw dropped at the accusation, her cheeks becoming inflamed as anger rose.

“I did no such thing!” she shouted, “whoever told you that was a lie! I never ratted you out to Filch and why would he believe me? He thinks I’m just as bad as you two because I’m a Weasley.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand how you are one?”

“Excuse me?” she said appalled, “What in the bloody hell do you mean by that?” The twins just looked at her with blank expressions while she felt her eyes begin to water. 

“Well first,” Fred started, “the most obvious is that you are the only one of us who got sorted into Slytherin. A house you know is full of pure-blooded pricks and bullies who hate everyone but themselves. You don’t like quidditch like the rest of us and prefer to be by yourself working on potions. Snape likes you, but hates the rest of us and you just have always been the outkast in the family. Who knows, you may even become a Death Eater like the rest of your housemates. Maybe you already are one and just haven’t said anything, wouldn’t be surprised you never tell anyone in this house what you are up to.” Y/n stayed silent when Fred finished, she felt a small tear fall down her cheek but neither of her brothers looked like they were unapologetic. She bit her lip giving a small nod and wiped away the drop.

“Mum wants you to know that supper is ready.” Turning on her heel, Y/n paced out of the room with the door slamming shut behind her. She shoved past Percy who simply glared at her for her attitude and bumping into him, obviously not knowing what the twins had said to her to cause such emotion. The redhead burst into her room, collapsing onto her bed and pushing her face into her pillow as cries erupted from her, being muffled by the pillow. She felt her heart break, her brother's words replaying in her head causing torment like a radio playing a horrible song over and over again. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he wept into her hair, “I’m sorry I treated you so badly. For everything. Ignoring you, pranking you in ways that had humiliated you and made you cry. Accusing you of snitching on us when you never did.” He held her close to his body, breaking inside each time she made a sound of agony. “I’m sorry for what I said to you during fourth year. I’m such a horrible brother,” he sobbed, “Please sis, don’t go. Don’t leave us.” 

“It’s okay, Fred,” she hushed him, stroking his arm with the hand Percy wasn’t holding. The two other Weasley boys were sobbing next to her. They two often treated her unfairly and were now going to live in tremendous guilt and despair, begging God to not take her. “It’s okay,” she said again, this time quieter.

“Y-Y/N,” Percy stuttered, but she simply hushed him.

Her voice grew weaker, and the group knew it was only moments before she would be gone forever. “It’s gonna be okay. I love--,” it was getting harder to speak, but she was fighting. “I love you all.”

“We love you too. We always will,” Ron said and Hermione started to cry harder, leaning onto Ron for support. Harry no longer looked around for Death Eaters, his own face drenched in tears at the sight in front of him. He felt anguish in him, seeing another friend die at the hands of those who wanted him dead. 

“You think I’ll see Cedric up there?” She questioned, eyelids falling shut and the image of her best friend filled her mind. Happy at the thought of possibly seeing him again. Fred let out a small cry before she felt him nod. 

“Y-yeah,” he croaked, “He’ll be waiting for you. You’ll be together again just like before.” 

“Freddie?”

“Yeah, sis?”

“Take care of George,” she managed to breathe out, “Tell him I love him.” 

“I will,” He sniffed, feeling her take one last breath.

“Promise me you will live.” The air left her body one last time, the pain no longer present and Y/n felt at peace, unable to hear Fred’s last words to her. 

 “I promise. I love you, sis.” But Y/N did not respond, causing him to gently shake her.  Her lack of reaction caused Fred to collapse into a heap of cries when her body finally went limp in his arms. “Y-y/n?” 

Percy felt her hand become unmoved and he too, cried in heartbreak. Ron held onto Hermione, turning his body away so he did not see his now dead sister in his brother’s arms. His heart was heavy with agony and he could not help console Hermione for he was in the same state. Harry dropped his head, sadness all within him at the loss of someone he looked at as family. He would never forgive himself, and he wished nothing more for Y/n to be brought back.

“Y/n,” Fred tried again, but to no avail. “W-wake up. Please w-wake u-up.”

The Golden Trio had to force themselves to leave, to continue their search before more people died. Harry and Hermoine having to drag poor Ron away from his siblings. None wanted to go, but time was limited and it took all their strength to get up and leave Percy and Fred with Y/n’s body. Promising Ron they’d get her to their family once it was safe to do so. 

The two Weasley brothers lost track of time. They stayed put, mourning the loss of their sister until the battle ceased and they were drained of tears. It soon became quiet in the castle, Death Eaters had retreated upon Voldermorts order and bodies laid all through the halls. 

“We should take her to the Great Hall,” Percy spoke with a dry voice, hoarse from all the cries. “Take her to mum and dad.” Fred was still, looking in front of him at the dusted hallway full of debris from the explosion that killed his sister. She was still held close in his arms, eyes closed and the blood stopped flowing but coated every inch of her skin along with Fred’s clothes. It took all his might to look down, eyes landing on her face. She looked peaceful, her lips slightly curled as though she had died smiling and that gave Fred some sort of comfort despite her damaged body. 

That she left the world at peace. 

“You think she’ll watch over us? Even though we treated her like shit?” His voice cracked. The older Weasley gazed down at his little sister, a small yet heartbroken smile on his lips and he cleared his throat. His hand came over her forehead to move some of her red hair, flinching at how cold her skin was.

“Yeah,” he said, “I think she will.” Fred carefully stood, cradleling Y/n in his arms. Percy rose beside him, grabbing their discarded wands and leading them out of the hallway, careful to avoid the debris around them. They reached the Great Hall, hearing the sound of others. Many were painful groans, others were cries of despair. The two emerged in the doorway, paying no mind to those around them and instead continued to walk forward until they saw their parents, Ginny and older brothers Bill and Charlie. Ginny was the first to see them, and rushed to them relieved they were okay and searched for her sister, but when her eyes landed on what was in Fred’s arms she halted. She could see the flaming red hair similar to hers and the blood stained clothing on the unmoving body. Her mouth went agape, hand flying to cover it as her eyes filled with water threatening to escape.

“Please tell me it’s not--.” But Percy simply shook his head, looking at his baby sister with sorrow and Ginny let out a small scream, falling to the ground but was caught by Bill. He stared at the Y/n’s lifeless body, his heart breaking into pieces and he tried desperately to console Ginny, but found it hard to battle his own grief emerging. Molly and Arthur ran upon hearing their daughter’s scream and froze when they saw their son.

“Fred,” Arthur said in a hesitant voice. His son looked at him with tear filled eyes, lips quivering and for Fred, he could feel his body start to shake.

“I-I-I,” he could not find the words, “S-she saved us. She saved us…..” His knees nearly gave out and his brothers Percy and Charlie helped him lower their deceased sister onto the ground. After gently placing the fallen Weasley onto the stone floor, Fred once more collapsed over her body as his grief overpowered him once more. Molly fell back into her husband’s arms, wailing in agony, he too had trouble holding her up as his body racked with sobs. Ginny was still on the floor, being cradled by Bill while Charlie and Percy stood over Fred, rubbing his back with tears of their own falling. 

Onlookers watched with solemn expressions. The sight was gut wrenching but unfortunately resembled many throughout the Great Hall as friends mourned friends and teachers draped blankets over their deceased students.

“No! Not my girl!” Molly screamed, “Please not m-my girl.” She fell to her knees, crawling over to the opposite side of her daughter's body and caressed her cold cheek. Blood was all over her precious face, adorned with cuts and gashes, the most horrific on her head and neck. Molly did not even want to look down at Y/n’s body, for she was afraid of what else had happened to cause her daughter such a horrific death. Arthur could see the gaping wound in Y/n’s torso, his stomach lurching at the sight and he had to turn away as he felt nauseous. 

George burst through the entrance of the Great Hall. He had separated from his family and Fred at some point during the battle which resulted in his anxiety to soar at not knowing where they were. He heard the wounded were being treated in the Great Hall along with the bodies of those who perished being moved until further notice, so the ginger bolted to the location as fast as he could. His eyes scanned every inch of the large dining hall, and soon he could see a group of people with the same colored hair as him, instantly relieved. 

George walked with a rushed pace, slowing with confusion when he heard the wretched cries of his parents and siblings. They were all huddled, blocking his view of the ground. He immediately looked for Fred, becoming relaxed when he saw his brother alive. But George’s stomach dropped at the broken look painted on his twin’s face.

“F-Fred,” he stuttered out as he approached him, “what’s wron----.” Something behind Fred’s shoulder caught his eye, George’s gaze falling to the still figure on the ground. That’s when he realized the fact Fred was kneeling on the ground, hovered over the figure, and his mother was sobbing into their neck. 

His twin lifted his head, turning to meet George’s eyes, which revealed the horrific reality waiting for him. There, lying on the stretcher covered in a dark red--almost black--substance and nearly unrecongnizable, was his sister Y/n. Unmoving. Dead. 

All the air left George’s body, face consorting to match his family as he took in sight. The clothes she wore were tattered. Dirt and grime painted the visible parts of her skin not coated in her blood. Gashes upon gashes. A nasty intrusion on her temple and torso. George felt the bile form in his throat and before he could stop it the redhead was hunched over, spilling the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Arthur instantly went to him, rubbing his back. Once it appeared George had got it all out, Arthur produced a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his son's mouth as he had seemed to freeze.

“Y-Y/n,” he dropped to his knees. Crawling to Fred and their mother. His twin slightly moved aside to give space. George instantly reached for her hand, devastated when the cold touch hit his skin. “No.” Tears dropped from his eyes, George looking to his family for them to say it was all a nightmare. “N-no. No!” 

“George,” Molly whispered, reaching over to comfort him. 

He shook his head, not wanting to believe the truth. “What happened?!” Fred winced, returning to a heap of sobs. 

“She saved us,” Percy whispered, making George look up. “There was an explosion. A-and she pushed us out of the way. A wall came crashing down,” the older Weasley boy flinched, head dropping as he relieved the most horrifying moment of his life. “It crushed her.”

Molly wheeped into her daughter's chest. Picturing the scene. Unable to save her baby girl who she had spent so long wishing for. 

For the twins, it was like a piece of them was now missing. Creating a hole deep in their hearts. They all came into the world together. Y/n first, then Fred, lastly George. How were they supposed to go forward without the third piece of their puzzle? 

This question only surfaced the ocean-sized guilt swimming in their veins. Like Fred had done in the precious moments he held their dying sister, George was replaying all the times he had tormented Y/n. The constant pranking. Humiliating her in front of her friends and schoolmates. Getting her in trouble with their antics when she took the fall. Accusing her of snitching on them. 

George crumbled, clutching onto Y/n’s hand as he lowered his head to her torso. Praying to whoever above to take care of her in the afterlife and begging her spirit to forgive him. Wishing he could turn back time to tell her how much he loved her. He wanted his sister back. 

A cold breeze brushed his ear, almost like a whisper. George thought he felt a hand on his shoulder, but when he turned the closest person to him was Percy, and he was at least five steps away. 

Whatever it was Fred had felt it two. The redheads glancing to one another, anguish filling their gaze. For they had their suspicions of what--or who--was responsible for the touch. 

Turning back to Y/n’s body, Fred and George pictured what life was in store for them without their sister. Reality sunk in. No longer a bright light, but instead dimly lit. 

For what was once three became two. 

Kyle Gaz “I let my girlfriend manscape me” Garrick.

He’s a good looking man. He values high fashion, style, and good personal hygiene.

That’s why when he walked in on you laying on your bed, tweezers in one hand, mirror in the other, he becomes curious. He sits with you, making small talk, telling you about work and whatever stupid shit Johnny had dragged him into on base, and he just watches you pluck at your eye brows. When you’re done, you sit up, and you go to put your supplies away, but he stops you.

You give him a curious look and ask him what’s wrong, and he’s bashful as he speaks. “Can… you do mine? Clean ‘em up?”

You get excited, and give him a full spa treatment. You lay him down on the bed, and you grab your tweezers again, along with your small, handheld razor. You throw an eye mask on him before getting started.

You’re straddling him as you work, and he smiles at you every time you pull back to assess your work. He loves the way you look so focused.

When you’re done, you hand him a mirror so that he can look, and he’s impressed. He doesn’t remember the last time his brows looks so cleaned up. They frame the shape of his face so nicely, and he feels a sense of pride as he admires your work.

When he goes to work the next week, all of the guys are making comments about it, a bit in awe of how he managed to look even cleaner than he already does. He just shrugs. “My girl’s got talent. That’s all.”

MASTERLIST

Heyy,

I really love fics when George is together with y/n and they are at The Burrow and all thr Weasleys love them so muchh

the healing process - george weasley x reader <3

↳ george weasley is still healing, years after the wizarding war. his family just needs to give him the final push to begin his life.

↳ some angst but it is resolved, post hogwarts, wizarding war, fred is still dead i'm sorry, fluff.

↳ a/n: i'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted but i had this idea and had to run with it!! it's got some happiness and some fluff but it deals with angsty things. i hope you enjoy!

harry potter's birthday was an entire event at the burrow. this time around, he was twenty-two and it had been four years since the wizarding war.

molly took it upon herself to throw a large party now that their lives had calmed down and rebuilding was coming to a close. she claimed that it would be nice to bring everyone together, to celebrate our hero, and catch up. harry reluctantly agreed and now, the burrow was filled with life, conversations, drinks, and dishes that the enchanted sink could barely keep up with.

outside, just off the lawn, a few people lingered. those that could barely take the loudness on the inside of the warm home. one such person was george weasley.

after the battle of hogwarts, george was incredibly sensitive to crowds and sounds. he didn't enjoy the unknown and the exciting anymore. he was cautious and planned every one of his moves. in his shop, he stayed to the top floor, eyeing everyone below him. he scanned their faces and committed them to memory.

he spent nights crying over fred, over the people he lost, over the memories he desperately clung on to. he was scared that all that was good from his life was gone. he had the store, sure, which was rapidly gaining popularity in a rebuilt wizarding world. but there was nobody to share it with.

"george!" molly's voice called from the open kitchen window. her head poked out comically and though tempted to hide himself, george looked to his mother with curiosity. "oh, there you are! hiding away, are we?"

"d'ya need something?" he asked.

"i could do without the attitude, you know?" she scolded george. her annoyed expression quickly turned to one of happiness at her next words. "someone is here and keeps asking about you! i think you should come and see!"

george felt his palms go clammy at the idea of going into that house with people he barely knew who were all too boisterous and rowdy.

molly recognized the look on his face and softened. "i'll tell everyone to quiet down. you can stay in the kitchen, dear."

george thought for a moment, wiped his hands on his pants, and nodded at his mother. he turned around to go to the front door and hesitantly, he turned the doorknob. immediately, the chaos inside diminished and george was thankful that everyone understood.

the crowd was gathered in the living room, forming a circle around someone who sat on the couch. he was all too curious about who this person may be. very suddenly, his questions were answered as a sweet voice rang out: "is that george?"

from the crowd rose george's best friend, second to fred, all throughout his time at hogwarts. y/n had met george and fred in their first year after she had helped them acquire ingredients for one of their very first potion experiments. it was a budding friendship at first which turned into an intense, unbreakable bond by their fourth year. fred and george were never without her. and she was never without one of them.

while fred easily made friends with other people in their house, george had more trouble. which is why he always gravitated to y/n's presence, electing to stay by her side, eat with her, or be partners in their class. sure, all three of them were friends, but there was something more about george and y/n that both of them were too scared to act on.

when they graduated, y/n wasted no time in joining the weasley wizard wheezes crew and made employee of the month multiple times (all thanks to george). however, the war began and when it ended, mcgonagall declared y/n an emissary and for the past four years, she traveled the world, visiting schools and wizarding communities as a representative.

y/n loved what she did, there was no doubt there, but it hurt her tremendously to leave her life, her family, and george. she couldn't say no to mcgonagall and george understood but on their final night together, y/n placed the most softest of kisses on george's lips which, if he thought hard enough, he could remember the feeling.

and there she was now, in front of him. his heart was beating so fast, he was sure she could hear it all the way across from him. "y/n?" he dared to speak. it came out in more of a squeak but she smiled anyway and walked toward him confidently.

her arms wrapped around his middle tightly and he accepted the tightness she offered. "i missed you so much," she mumbled into his chest. the entire burrow seemed to be happy with her presence. molly had always loved y/n like her own daughter. ginny confided in her. ron asked her for girl advice. charlie introduced her to his favorite dragon and she met up with bill while in africa. percy tolerated her which was enough.

gently, she pulled back from george's embrace and led him to the kitchen. there, they both sat down at the dining table, legs brushing up against each other. y/n had grown much more than the last time he had seen her. her skin had tanned and there were some added wrinkles on her forehead and around her lips. her eyes held something enchanting, like they were filled with the sights and knowledge she gained throughout her travels. george's world felt just a little lighter while staring at her.

"h-how was your trip?" george asked.

"trip isn't the word for it! i went to ilvermorny and met some of their professors and i got to meet some members of their magical congress. i spent a lot of time in france with the beauxbatons. bill introduced me to the other cursebreakers and showed me all the magical artifacts he's found," she rambled. "it was a lot of fun, george, but i really missed being here. being with you. i'm sorry i had to leave."

quickly, george jumped to assuage her worries. "no! no, don't apologize! you had to go and i wanted you to. i've been fine! the store's been great, really. but i did miss you. a lot."

y/n's eyes softened. "i've missed you too, georgie. so much. but i'm back now! i did my work and now i want to come back and help you with the store. if you'll have me."

in that moment, george would have surely said yes to anything she said. having someone to share the store with was all he had wanted for the past four years. his chest felt like a weight had been lifted off of it. there was still some pain in the back of his heart and flashes of fred came into his mind.

y/n must have recognized the flashes of pain that went across his eyes. "i know it's not the same but i want to help you heal as much as i can, george. i'm here now."

he looked up at her through his long eyelashes. her smile was genuine, wistful, and meant a lot to him.

"i would love for you to come back with me, y/n," he said. his hand wound around hers and she squeezed his comfortably. slowly, she rose up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek but at the last second, he turned his head and their lips met again.

she giggled and he reveled in the sound. "just as mischievous as you've always been, georgie."

up the stairs, looking through the bannister, was molly weasley admiring the scene before her. a strongly worded letter to mcgonagall asking to bring y/n home was all she needed.

invisible string (g.w.)

A/N: So I've been working on my Folklore/Evermore fics between working on requests. The request I am working for right now, I really want to do my research on so that I have everything correct so that's why that is taking a bit longer than usual, but it is almost done and ready to be posted. Once again, this one is a little long, I can't help it, I just kinda let Taylor lead me and she leads me to ~ 14-page fics😅 (oops). Anyway, enjoy this soft, fluffy soulmate AU with Georgie boy!

TV Show/Movie: Harry Potter

Pairing: George Weasley x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

Not Requested

Taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @rottenstyx @frederickandgeorge-weasley

No Voldemort AU, but Umbrige is still there.

Warnings: Some negative thoughts about oneself, angst, but happy ending. Very long, like over 20 pages in docs (I got a little carried away)masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation - my header / not my gif -

Y/N was always fascinated by the idea of soulmates. Not just how there was a person out there for everyone, a true match, but how soulmates have a string connecting them. An invisible string that only appears when it wants. The idea of her being connected to her soulmate by some invisible thread, stretching across an unpredictable distance, weaving around buildings and landscape even though they might not even know each other (or live in the same country). “Maybe one of the Durmstrang students will be my soulmate,” Her friend, Freya sighed dreamily as she gazed at a group of Durmstrang boys striding by the group. Y/N didn’t even look up from her book, only humming half-heartedly in response. “Could you imagine the romance,” She gushed, flopping onto the grass to look at the sky. “Me, in Scotland, my soulmate, in Bulgaria. Separated by vast waters and rolling hills only to meet at a ball one fateful night.”

“Wouldn’t you want to meet your soulmate before the ball so you guys could attend it together?” Kieron, Freya’s brother, spoke up from where he twirled his wand between his fingers, his back pressed against the same tree Y/N sat at. Freya flailed around to lay on her stomach, glaring at her brother, not noticing the dead leaves that were tangled in her fine, auburn locks.

“That wouldn’t be romantic, Kieron,” She rolled her eyes, plucking a few blades of grass from the ground below her. “Imagine this,” She paused, tossing the blades away as she fanned her hands through the air like she was prepping a TV screen to play her vision out for her. “I’m dancing with another guy, he’s dancing with another girl. My date spins me but loses my hand, I accidentally bump into him. He turns around and our eyes lock and our string reveals itself right there in the middle of the dance floor. Time stops because we found each other.” She rambled, the story choppy as she tried to keep up with her fast imagination.

“Yeah, and if you bumped into someone you would become a stuttering mess and your face will be about ten thousand shades redder than your hair,” Kieron pointed out a flaw - Freya’s seemingly incurable shyness. “You wouldn’t stick around long enough for your string to show up if he was your soulmate.” He poked fun at his sister.

“I would too! It’s different with your soulmate.” Freya defended herself. Snapping her head to Y/N, she hit one of her bent knees making her book fall from where it was perched on her thighs.

“Hey! I was reading that.” Y/N cried as the heavy tome fell closed on the grass, narrowly missing Kieron’s leg. She pushed her back off the thick tree trunk, grabbing the red and gold book, watching Freya with cautious eyes.

“Tell him that it’s different with your soulmate.” Freya insisted, pointing to her twin brother. Sighing, Y/N nodded as she turned her head to face Kieron.

“She’s right, it is different with your soulmate,” She agreed, earning an eye roll from Kieron. “No matter what happens when the string shows up, you don’t feel any embarrassment. You might blush and be shocked, but you don’t feel anxious. You might feel embarrassed when you first meet them unless your string appears then, but there is this feeling within you that keeps you there long enough to form an acquaintance,” She paused, cracking her book back open to where she left off. “If Freya does meet her soulmate at the ball in an embarrassing way, it doesn’t matter if the string appears or not, she won’t feel embarrassed enough to run away.”

“How are you so sure of all of this,” Kieron posed the question, narrowing his eyes at Y/N. “Have you met your soulmate?” He almost seemed nervous for her to answer. His fingers stopped twirling his wand and now picked anxiously at the grass.

“No, not that I know of,” She shrugged. “But I read a lot about soulmates so I think I have a pretty good understanding of how this works.”

“Reading and experiencing are two very different things-”

“Y/N! Freya,” Kieron was interrupted by a breathless call of their names. The three looked up to see Pippa, one of their other friends, running along the shore of the lake towards them. “Look at what Maisy and I did!” She waved two flower crowns in the air. She was the only one out of the group to have found her soulmate. Her string appeared between her and Maisy just last year - five years after they first met in first year.

“They look lovely, Pippa,” Y/N smiled, looking at the crowns as she stood in front of them. She plopped down on the grass, sitting criss-cross as she extended the crowns out towards them. Y/N grabbed the red one she handed her. “Chrysanthemums, are they?” She asked, looking over at her out-of-breath friend.

“Red ones, I thought it would look best with your hair. I gave you white ones to compliment your red hair,” She directed the last bit to Freya who placed the white chrysanthemum crown on her head. “Well, go on, Y/N! Put yours on,” Pippa clapped her hands excitedly before reaching over and adjusting Freya’s crown. Y/N laughed lightly, letting her other hand leave her book to grip the crown, placing it on her head as well. “It looks gorgeous!” She squealed.

“Hey, Pip,” Freya sat up on her knees, careful not to knock her crown off. “We were just talking about soulmates and if you feel embarrassed if you embarrassingly meet them. Y/N and I both claim that you don’t but Kieron is insisting that you do. From your experience, which is true?”

“That you don’t,” Pippa told them right off the bat, smiling fondly as she thought of meeting Maisy. “When we first met, it was in such an embarrassing way. I had gone to the loo during Charms and when I walked back into the classroom, Maisy was the one who pulled me aside and told me my shirt was tucked into my panties,” She recalled, her cheeks flaring. “At that moment, I was as red as a tomato and a clumsy fool, but in a weird way, I wasn’t embarrassed. Looking back now, yeah, I cringe and want to crawl into my skin, but at that moment,” She paused, shaking her head slightly as she tried to find the words. “I don’t know how to describe it, it was just different.” She shrugged.

“What about when your string appeared? Did you feel embarrassed then?” Freya asked eagerly, her hands clasped together tightly as she hung off of every word Pippa spoke. Y/N couldn’t help but close her book on her finger, keeping her spot but giving Pippa all her attention.

“Looking back now, it was so embarrassing, but at that moment it was like a scene out of a rom-com-”

“What’s that?” The three asked at the same time, their faces scrunching up in confusion.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Pippa smiled shyly. “I forgot you guys aren’t muggle-born. Rom-coms are romantic films with comedy in them, they are all the rage among hopeless romantics in the Muggle world,” She cleared her throat, looking over her shoulder to see Maisy talking with one of her friends farther along the lakeshore. “When our string appeared, I was in the Hospital Wing with nasty blisters all over my face from a potion exploding in my face. Maisy was volunteering one night and she was tasked with giving everyone a glass of water before bed. She yanked the curtain around my bed back while I sat there with frizzy hair and my headgear on with green, oozing blisters on my face, but get this-” She paused, holding her two-pointer fingers up. “She then trips over her own feet and dumps the whole pitcher of water on me before falling on me. When she pulled away, the fateful gold string was there connecting her hand to my hip which is where we collided first.”

“Oh wow,” Freya whispered, her green eyes wide. “If I were you, I wouldn’t show my face anywhere for years.”

“Exactly. Normally I would have gladly jumped into a Red Cap’s den if those things happened in front of anyone else, but I just wasn’t that mortified!” Pippa exclaimed, her hands slapping her bent knees, her fingers brushing the tips of the grass.

“I read a theory on it recently,” Y/N spoke up, sitting back against the tree trunk as she opened her book again. “Many people think that you don’t get embarrassed when meeting your soulmate or seeing the string so that you actually stay. So, if you meet your soulmate while making a fool out of yourself, they will still want to get to know you! Same thing if the pair just don’t understand that they are meant to be soulmates - the universe will just keep pushing them together.”

“I still think this is just a bunch of dragon dung,” Kieron muttered begrudgingly, making all three girls roll their eyes. “But can we please set this all aside and go to lunch now?” He whined, pleading with them to finally wander towards the Great Hall like they promised they would ten minutes ago.

“You guys go ahead, I’m going to sit out here and read some more.” Y/N told them as they all stood up from the grass. Freya looked down at her with furrowed brows.

“Do you want us to bring you anything?” She asked as Pippa skipped off to Maisy, her two braids flapping behind her in the fall air. Y/N shook her head prompting Freya to take the hint and leave. Kieron trailed behind her, leaving Y/N in her solitude as she found her place in her book once again. With the silence that surrounded her, she was able to hear the robins chirping as they flung fallen leaves in search of bugs to eat. She enjoyed the soft sounds of nature, there was something so poetic about it.

Unlike Freya, Y/N always thought she would meet her soulmate at a time like this. With the fall air twirling the leaves around, the slight chill of the day barely seeping through her cable-knit sweater, the golden rays of sunlight spotlighting the changing leaves. She always dreamed of the mysterious string appearing in the glistening sun as her cheeks flared red - matching her soulmate’s cheeks. She let her eyes flutter closed, her head falling back against the tree trunk, careful not to tangle her hair with the peeling bark of the mighty oak she sat under.

Just then, the wind picked up causing some flaming red leaves to flutter down on top of her head, but she paid them no mind as she visualized her soulmate stumbling upon her and picking them gently out of her hair. “Fred, catch it!” She heard Lee Jordan yell before she felt someone’s shoe get caught on her calves, pulling her over as they fell. Letting out a surprised yelp, her eyes closed tighter as she barely kept her face from hitting the dirt.

“Ow-” She groaned, the tree root she was sitting next to now digging into her stomach. Rolling over, she let her eyes open again, the fluffy white clouds greeting pleasantly her as if she didn’t have a large bruise forming on her stomach.

“I’m sorry about that, Love,” Another deep voice sounded from right beside her. Flopping her head over, she spotted the infamous ginger laying on the grass beside her as he also flipped over. “At least you met me and not the fanged frisbee my brother lost control of.” He pointed out. Y/N searched his face, trying to figure out which twin had knocked her over. He was ignorant of this, too busy trying to wipe the dirt off his freckled face.

“That’s alright, you probably didn’t see my legs there so it’s partially my fault really.” She shook her head, giving up on guessing which twin it was, leaning over to pick her book back up. The twin laughed at that, sitting up as he inspected his clothes for more dirt.

“I saw your legs, I just misjudged how close you were to me,” He admitted. Y/N hummed, nodding in understanding as she sat right beside him. Glancing over at him, she noticed how his hair lit up in the sun, how beautiful he looked with the lopsided grin he wore. Now that she was so close to him, she could definitely see what all the girls fawned over when talking about the Weasley twins. “Do I have any more dirt on me?” He asked her suddenly, startling her enough for her to snap out of her daze - just narrowly escaping him realizing she was checking him out.

“Um, I think you have a speck right here,” She pointed to the spot on her own face. The twin lifted his hand, wiping at the wrong spot. “No, other side,” She shook her head, a smile tugging on her lips as he missed again. “Here, may I get it?” She asked, her hand raising to hover over the spot, waiting for his answer.

“Only if I can get the smudged lipstick off the corner of your lips.” He winked, flirting shamelessly. Y/N blinked, assuming the twin was Fred, she had heard tales of his flirtatious and outgoing personality. From what she knew, George was much more of a hopeless romantic like herself and had a different kind of flirtatious charm than his twin. She always assumed she would like George better as he had more things in common, but she would be lying if she didn’t like the kind of attention she was getting.

“I’m not wearing any lipstick today, I ran out yesterday,” She told him, her eyes narrowing in flirty playfulness, something she never thought she would do, wanting to question how he knew she usually wore lipstick. Instead, she dropped her hand to his cheek, wiping the spec of dirt away, taking his flirtations as an okay, moving to another spot she noticed. “Oh, that’s a freckle, sorry.” She apologized, dropping her hand from his cheek, her eyes meeting his intense stare.

“I do that sometimes myself. Sometimes, freckles just look so much like dirt, my mum had a horrible time trying to keep all of us clean, she’d scrub our faces thinking we were playing in the mud for hours before cluing in,” He told her before his cheeks flared ever so slightly, only being noticeable due to the ray of sun pointed directly at his face. “I’m George Weasley by the way.” Y/N blinked. She thought for sure that it was Fred sitting in front of her, but she was pleasantly shocked by this news.

“You and your brother are pretty famous, I recognized you instantly I just didn’t know which one you were,” She told him, her cheeks darkening as she hoped he didn’t think she was one of the Weasley obsessed girls who follow them around all the time. “I’m Y/N L/N.” She extended her hand to him.

“So that’s your name,” His large hand wrapped around hers, shaking it softly. “I’ve always wondered and let me tell you, it’s just as beautiful as you.” He winked, his hand lingering on hers as she blushed darker, letting out a giggle.

“Well, thank you. I like your name as well.” She returned the compliment.

“That’s awfully nice of you to lie like that for my sake, but I know my name sounds like I should be some stuffy old Muggle King,” He joked, earning a laugh from Y/N as their hands finally separated, her hand covering her mouth. “I like your flower crown, it’s the same red as my sweater.” He finally spotted the braided flowers perched on her head. She let her eyes flick upwards like she would be able to see it before looking back at him, bashful once again.

“My friend made it for me with her girlfriend-”

“George, we need your help, Fred got bit by the frisbee and we can see the bone. You have to get the frisbee, I’m taking him to the Hospital Wing.” Lee yelled, making the pair look over. There, Lee stood next to a boy identical to George who kept trying to wave Lee off - claiming to be fine especially as a group of girls sauntered by.

“Even in pain, he’s still flirting with everything that walks,” George shook his head. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N, but I better go before the frisbee bites anyone else,” He told her, standing up. “Look forward to seeing you again sometime soon.” He called to her as he ran farther away from the lake, following the screams of terror telling him exactly where the frisbee was.

“Wait, George,” She yelled, making him wheel around to face her as he walked backwards. “How did you know I usually wear lipstick?” She asked, her brows furrowed. Some of her closest friends barely notice she wears lipstick, how could someone she never even talked to before know that.

“You wear that brownish shade sometimes with the lip pencil thing, right?” He asked, his voice carrying through the schoolyard.

“Yeah, that’s right,” She nodded, she had recently found her signature shade after an episode of Friends she watched over the summer holiday she spent with Pippa and she fell in love with the bricky red colour Rachel wore. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve noticed you around, that’s all.” He shrugged before turning around and running off in pursuit of the frisbee flying around, gnashing its teeth dangerously. Y/N sat there, her book on her lap and her mouth hanging open as she replayed the entire interaction back. There was one thing she noticed, her lack of embarrassment. She felt like her heart was blooming a beautiful flower as she let herself dwell on that for a moment. She was practically trampled by a cute guy, almost had her face caked in mud, embarrassingly tried to wipe one of his freckles off, had the same cute guy flirt with her so nonchalantly, and have him confess to paying attention to her lips, but yet, she wasn’t embarrassed in the slightest.

“I must have just been comfortable around him because I somehow knew it was George and not Fred,” She theorized, playing off her notion that she would get along better with George than Fred. “That’s it, I can’t be the soulmate to a Weasley, there is no way I can survive that much attention on me at all times. Besides, which Weasley would be happy with a quiet Hufflepuff with like four friends? Not the twins, that’s for sure.” She muttered to herself. As much as she wanted to believe in the cliches she read in her books, she just couldn’t imagine her life working out quite like that. George’s soulmate was probably some outgoing Gryffindor who played Quidditch and was wildly popular - that is a better match for someone as popular as George, not Y/N.

____

The hall was swamped with students rushing around, but Y/N walked at her normal pace, her mind swirling with thoughts and worries as she paced on. Her satin-like lipstick covered her lips as she chewed on her bottom lip. She was beyond happy when Kieron had somehow bought her a new tube of lipstick to make up for the one he broke, but then he placed his lips upon hers after Freya had left with Pippa and Maisy. Days had passed from that moment and she was avoiding him like he had a case of Dragon Pox. “Y/N!” She heard the familiar call of the one person she didn’t want to be around from way down the hall. Sucking in a breath, she wished she didn’t have the luck of a cursed person.

Almost as if being pulled towards it, she pulled open the old door to the broom closet next to her, slipping in under the cover of the large crowd between them. Leaning her back against the door, she ignored the peeling scarlet paint chips stabbing into her neck as she let it click closed behind her, letting a relieved breath escape past her lips. “I was beginning to think we weren’t going to run into each other again.” A voice emitted from the darkness in the room making her jump, startled by their presence.

Squinting, her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, showing the famous red hair. “George?” She asked, tapping her wand in the direction of the candle stationed on the wall, lighting the room.

“In the flesh,” He nodded, the candle showing Y/N that he sat on an overturned bucket, clad in his Gryffindor robes, the scarlet hood glaringly obvious. She shuffled over, sitting on one of the other buckets that littered the small closet. It was bigger than some of the other ones she’s been in, but still pretty cramped thanks to George’s long limbs. “What brought you in here?”

“Avoiding someone,” She answered quickly, the noise of the other students out in the hall drowning out any noise coming from inside. George nodded, humming as an answer. “What about you? Why are you hiding in here alone? Aren’t you normally with your brother most of the time?” She asked, looking over at him. The orange glow from the single candle only lit a small portion of his face.

“Same as you, I’m just hiding from more people.” He shrugged, absentmindedly fiddling with one of his contraptions he kept in his pocket. She spotted the golden object, making her nervous. She leered back slightly, the hood of her Hufflepuff robes getting caught under her neck uncomfortably.

“Please don’t set off one of your prank devices please,” She pleaded, making George look down in his hand. For a second, he looked shocked that he had one of their products in his hand, but he quickly pocketed it, sending her a reassuring smile. “So why are you hiding from people?” She asked, feeling more at ease knowing it is less likely for them to be suddenly covered in a mysterious goop or being victims of whatever the product did. Sitting upright, her golden hood flopped against her back.

“I just needed some space from everyone,” He confided. “Fred loves the attention we get, but sometimes being swarmed by gaggles of people - especially girls - hanging off us all the time gets a bit much for me. Last night at the Gryffindor party, I was talking to a girl and we kissed a couple of times, you know from the firewhiskey-” Y/N nodded in understanding, but she in fact didn’t know. She’s only had one shot of firewhiskey once in her life and that was at a Ravenclaw party after they beat Slytherin in a match. She wasn’t sure why she’s never had another drink of it, it wasn’t bad, she just wasn’t much of a party person. She hated Hogwarts parties since they often ended up with someone cursed or seriously injured. “I just needed to escape her, she’s following me everywhere.”

“How can she tell you and Fred apart if she was drunk last night?” Y/N asked, finding a flaw in his explanation instantly.

“She wasn’t drunk, I was the tipsy one,” He corrected. “And how can you tell me apart from my brother? This is the second time we are actually speaking and it was dark when you figured out that it was me.”

“Fifty-fifty chance of it being you, I took my chances,” She joked slightly before clearing her throat. “But, no, in all honesty, I just had a feeling it was you. Plus, you referenced our little meeting a few weeks ago which I don’t think Fred would greet me with when I barge in on him in a broom closet.”

“Ah, you pay attention to details, probably from all the reading you do,” He bounced his finger in her direction, sending her a wink. She laughed, nodding, her fondness for reading did aid in her ability to pick up on little details. “I’m good at that too. I noticed that you said you were hiding from someone and you seemed pretty relieved to get away from them, what’s the deal with that, Love?” He asked, leaning his elbows on his knees.

She sighed, raking a hand through her hair. “I’m avoiding someone who kissed me the other day, have been since the kiss,” She disclosed, slumping her shoulders slightly. “He had bought me some new lipstick since he was the one who broke my other one. Right after he gave it to me, he kissed me. It was so weird, and now he probably thinks we are dating and we most certainly are not.” She ranted. Groaning, she buried her face in her hands.

“So who is this bloke?” George wondered, his voice hiding a bit of resentment that Y/N barely picked up on. The small thought in the back of her mind that had been lingering there lit up. Was George jealous? She had to admit, hearing of that girl and him kissing last night did send some sort of primal jealous urge coursing through her veins, could the same thing be happening to George? Making a mental note to do some research on that in soulmates, she lifted her head from her hands.

“Kieron. He’s my best friend’s twin brother, he’s in Ravenclaw and he’s persistent. He hasn’t left me alone since the kiss, it’s suffocating me. The worst thing is that I haven’t told Freya yet,” She paused, shaking her head as she kicked the floor with the toe of her school shoe. “I had no idea he liked me. We are completely different in every way possible, not to mention he’s kind of a jerk sometimes.”

“How so?”

“Well, for starters, he’s very self-obsessed, he sees himself as smarter and better than everyone, he knows all and he deserves all, he judges everyone and he doesn’t care about anyone else other than himself. Sometimes I think the only reason he ever started hanging around us is because of his sister,” She released all that had been weighing on her mind since he kissed her. “He knows how important romance and finding my soulmate is to me and he goes and kisses me all because he doesn’t believe in it?”

“Were you saving your first kiss for your soulmate?” George asked quietly.

Y/N shook her head. “No, I’ve kissed people before, I’ve dated people before, but I was never one just to randomly kiss people out of nowhere. I also do not kiss people who clearly do not want it.”

“Understandable-” George nodded. He opened his mouth to say something else, but he was cut off by Dumbledore’s magnified voice echoing through the whole school, warning them they only had two minutes to get to their next class. “Well, I guess we have to get going, what do you have next?” He stood, reaching his hand down for her to take. She accepted, using it to stand up.

“Double Herbology with the Slytherins.” She told him as he led her to the door. She pointed her wand to the candle, extinguishing it and bathing them back into darkness.

“Sorry to hear that, I would rather cuddle with a dragon than have a double class with Slytherins.” George pulled a face, opening the door to the empty hall. Y/N shrugged, hiking her bag up on her shoulder as they walked out of the cramped room, the natural sunlight pouring into the corridor stung their eyes but they powered on.

“They aren’t so bad to us, most of them aren’t,” She told him, her eyes watching the floor in front of her. “The only house we really have problems with are Ravenclaws, and that's only a bit of them.”

“I think every house has a problem with a few Ravenclaws, they are just so arrogant and priggish,” George admitted, kicking an empty chocolate frog container as they exited the building, heading towards the Greenhouses, braving the fall air. “Well, you have fun with the Slytherins and I think you should talk to that Ravenclaw guy, set things straight so he doesn’t bother you anymore.” He stopped walking just shy of the Greenhouses.

“Will do. Thanks for listening to my problems,” She smiled up at him, rubbing her hands together as the cold nipped at them. “You should get to class, you don’t want to be late.” She worried about him, but he simply shrugged.

“Can’t be late if my class is right here,” He pointed to the other Greenhouse. Y/N furrowed her brows at him. “We have a new teacher, fresh out of Ilvermorny. Hogwarts offered to help train him, you should take your nose out of your books sometime, Love, you might notice some things.” George said in a sing-song voice, sauntering over to Greenhouse One, leaving her standing them once again with her mouth hanging open. Shaking her head, she turned to Greenhouse Three, pulling the door open and slipped in unnoticed by the rest of the class.

____

Sniffling, Y/N sat at her stool as Professor Sprout frantically rushed around the room. She barely noticed how none of the Slytherins had shown up yet, all the seats being taken up by Hufflepuffs scattered in their groups. Nobody paid her no mind as she wiped away a single tear that managed to slip out of the corner of her eye, giving her the space and time she needed. “Professor, why are the Slytherins not here? Class was supposed to start four minutes ago.” Cordelia, one of Y/N’s fellow Hufflepuffs, asked gently.

“The Slytherins do not have a double Herbology with you guys anymore, they are now in Greenhouse One-” Professor Sprout began to explain, but she was interrupted by worrying gasps. Y/N even lifted her head, her puffy eyes wide. She had just found out that Kieron was also in Greenhouse One when she talked to Freya about the new Herbology professor (which everyone apparently knew about).

“Please tell us that the Ravenclaws aren’t moving into this Greenhouse with us,” Cordelia pleaded. “Please Professor, Hugo McAllister is in that block and he keeps calling me the third Darkside of my arse and then explains the name every time as if I don’t know that Cordelia is the third moon of Uranus-”

“We do not need to hear more of that Miss. Jaymes, we’ve all taken an astronomy class,” Sprout stopped her politely. “The Ravenclaws are not coming in here, the Gryffindors are. George Weasley decided it was a good idea to start a fight in that class with a Ravenclaw so they are the ones moving.” She informed them making Y/N still. George got in a fight with a Ravenclaw, and Kieron was in the hospital wing - all within forty-eight hours after she told George about her problem with Kieron. She had just connected the dots when the door opened and in trailed the Gryffindors.

Y/N watched the door as they all filled in, taking random seats quietly. “This seat taken?” A familiar voice asked, sneaking up on her. She looked up, greeted by the smile of George Weasley, pointing to the empty seat beside her the Hufflepuffs left open to give her space.

“Um, no, it’s empty,” She told him, confused as to how he managed to slip in without her seeing him. “Why did you start a fight with Kieron last week?” She asked quietly as people continued to shuffle around them, moving her leather-bound book from the stool. George shrugged, placing his bag and books on the floor beside his stool.

“I didn’t, I accidentally hit him when trying to escape a nasty flesh-eating plant and he took it personally.” George told her. She pressed her lips together, humming slightly to tell him she didn’t believe him.

“Really, because I visited him in the hospital wing yesterday, and he was milking a black eye, a broken nose, and a sprained wrist.”

“Why were you visiting him?” He asked the tinge of jealousy back in his voice. Y/N noted it, but she couldn’t make sense of it as she had not found any evidence that sudden jealousy points to a soulmate - just a crush which was even more unrealistic than her being his soulmate.

“I went to talk to him like you told me to, he’s still an ass and we are no longer friends, but that is beside the point right now, George,” She paused, looking around to make sure people weren’t listening. “Why did you hit Kieron, honestly?”

“Honestly, it was an accident. Then he attacked me and I had to defend myself,” George told her sincerely. Sighing, she dropped her forehead into her hand as Sprout fussed around upfront to get things ready for the lesson. There were more Gryffindors than there were Slytherins signed up for herbology, meaning she didn’t have enough of everyone. “Now, tell me what happened when you went to talk to him.”

“Nothing much. He got mad at me because I didn’t like him back. Said that I was being ridiculous by carrying on about this soulmate stuff. He even dared to say that he deserved the kiss because he got me a present as a boyfriend does,” She hissed out. “Anyway, Freya knows and she sided with me since she knew I had no feelings for him. We don’t talk to him anymore, her parents are mad at her for it but she doesn’t care.”

“So he’s out of your hair?”

“Yes-” She nodded, but Sprout clapped her hands, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Alright class, I don’t have enough of what we are working on for this month for everyone so everyone has to pair up. Look to the person beside you, they are your partner for the next month. End people, you are paired up with the people across from you so that everyone has a partner.” Sprout instructed.

“Looks like we’re partners, Love,” George nudged her, making her look back at him. “It’s funny how we keep coming together, it’s like fate is playing with us or something.” He commented.

Y/N hummed, nodding slowly as she thought over things. “Yes, it is funny,” She whispered, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. She couldn’t seem to shake George since she met him. He was like a constant in her life now, somehow popping up. Shaking her head, she tried to forget the thought. She couldn’t be his soulmate, the universe wouldn’t put him through that. George drummed his hands on the tabletop loudly, swiping his tongue along his bottom lip before he pushed off the desk, heading over to collect their items. Something poking out from under his robe sleeve caught Y/N’s eye. A leather bracelet with dyed straps of red and gold. The exact same leather and dyed strings as her book. Staring at it, she became overwhelmed with the possibility. “I have to be jumping to conclusions, there is no way he’d be happy with me.” She muttered to herself.

____

For the rest of the year, George Weasley was in her life whether they wanted it or not. It was as if there was a force that kept leading them to each other. As much as Y/N loved the string that connected her to her soulmate, she refused to believe that it was George Weasley. She would refuse to believe it was any of the Weasley’s, she was too different from them. Even in the summer holiday, she would find herself running into him when she ventured out to run errands at Diagon Alley.

“No, you don’t understand Freya,” Y/N stressed as she rocked gently with the train. They were heading back for another year at Hogwarts, and she had already encountered George when their baggage got mixed up in the parking lot somehow. “It cannot be George. He’s popular, he’s a Quidditch player, he’s one-half of the Weasley Twins, how could I be his soulmate?”

“Because being soulmates doesn’t mean you are an exact copy of the other person. And newsflash, Y/N, you’re popular. Everyone knows you and likes you, except my brother now, but I don’t think you care about that-”

“I don’t, trust me,” Y/N interrupted her. “No offence.” She winced when she remembered he is still her brother.

“None taken,” Freya waved her off. “Maybe you’re trying to make up any excuse as to why George cannot be your soulmate because now that you’re actually faced with the possibility that you’ve found your soulmate, you’re scared.”

Y/N scoffed “Why would I be scared of something I’ve wanted for my whole life?” Freya shrugged, looking up for a second as the door slid open, letting Pippa in.

“You don’t want the magic to end?” She guessed. Pippa looked between the pair with furrowed brows. Y/N shook her head stubbornly. She was not scared of the magic ending. She wanted to see the string, she wanted to find that one person she’s been connected to her whole life. The magic isn’t the wonder, the magic is what happens after the string appears.

“What are we talking about?” Pippa asked.

“Does the magic end after you find your soulmate?” Freya asked right off the bat, ignoring Pippa’s question completely. Y/N rolled her eyes at her friend.

“Of course not, Freya,” Y/N answered instead. “I’m not scared of the magic ending, or of the mystery dying out. I am simply saying that I have to be reading too far into this!” She explained, finally finding the words she was searching for since last year. Freya huffed, exhausted with this argument.

“If you want to know if you’re reading too far into it, you just have to relax, let George into your life. If you’re thinking the string will appear or trying to make sense of why George keeps popping up, the string will never appear,” Pippa told her. “That’s what happened with Maisy’s parents. They kept worrying about when the string would appear. Once they stopped and just started to enjoy each other’s company, the string appeared.”

“Exactly,” Freya exclaimed. “So just relax and enjoy George’s friendship. Maybe the string will appear, maybe it won’t. If it does or doesn't, what is the big deal?” She asked.

“The big deal is that I like him.” She admitted, making Freya’s eyes widen.

“Like, you like, like him?”

“Yes, I might even love him, I don’t know, but I do know that I will be incredibly broken if the string doesn’t appear. Could it be possible for two soulmates not to have a string?” Y/N asked, suddenly worried once again.

“I don’t think so, Y/N/N,” Pippa shook her head sadly. “I think you just have to wait it out. Remember that the string shows up when it wants. You just have to be patient with this one.”

“That’s not what I want to hear!” She groaned, falling dramatically back in her seat, huffing as she prepared herself to face another confusing year that could potentially end in heartbreak caused by the one and only George Weasley.

____

Y/N sat in the swirling silence of the Library, hunched over a large book, hidden among the shelves. Her finger trailed along the rough, aged page of the book, frantically scanning the page for something that could help her. Resisting the urge to let out a frustrated scream, she took a deep breath as she closed the book as she grabbed yet another one from the large stack on the table. Pushing the old one away, she flopped the new equally as large one open. “And what is it that you’re up to?” A drawling voice startled her. She snapped her head up from where she was just about to start reading the chapter she thought would help her. There, leaning against one of the many bookshelves that hid her from the rest of the Library was George Weasley, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Just reading.” She told him, letting her head fall back down to read, knowing full well that he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

“This is the first we are seeing of each other this school year and you’re not even going to speak more than two words to me?” George asked as he settled into the seat across from her.

“I figured you wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon so I’m sure we’ll exchange more words,” She muttered, keeping her attention on the book. “Besides, isn’t my company good enough for you?” She asked, flipping the page.

“It would be if your nose wasn’t stuck in that book, Darling,” He quipped. She could feel his eyes on her, studying her, waiting for her to give up on the book and pay attention to him. “What are you working on anyway, we don’t have any assignments or tests yet-“ He trailed off, snatching the large red book she had just pushed aside. “Everything You Need to Know About Soulmates, Volume Two,” He read the title before looking back up at her. Her cheeks flushed a pink colour as she tried to bow her head even more. “What are you trying to figure out?”

“Nothing, I just find it fascinating.”

“Oh, I know that. But I also know that you have already read this ten times.”

“It’s not my fault the school hasn’t got any new books on soulmates-“ She tried to defend herself.

“Yes they do,” He stated simply, plucking the book from under her hands in her distraction. Just as she was about to ask him about the new books, he interrupted her unknowingly. “Chapter Nine: Is It Possible for Soulmates To Not Have A String,” He read the chapter title at the top of the page before humming. “What are you on about?”

“I’m on about nothing, I’m just interested in the possibility,” She lied, earning a hum from George that told her he didn’t believe her. “Now, tell me about the new books.” She pleaded, taking the book back from him as he leaned back in his seat.

“They are in the Restricted Section, Fred and I saw them when we snuck in to look for any books that would help us cure a nasty side effect our new product has,” He informed her nonchalantly, tapping his nails on the dark wood of the library table. Her eyes widened, making George laugh lightly. “I suppose you want me to help you sneak into the Restricted Section so you can nab those books.” He smirked knowingly.

She slumped down in her chair slightly, a deeper blush covering her cheeks. “Yes please,” She admitted bashfully before sitting upright again. “Am I really that easy to read?” She asked. He shook his head, leaning his weight on the table, his eyes digging into hers.

“Not at all,” He shook his head truthfully. “I would have never guessed you would want to break into the Restricted Section for anything, but I guess that’s the Hufflepuff dedication shining through,” He teased, standing from his seat. “Meet me outside of the Hufflepuff Common Room tonight an hour after curfew, that’s when the Prefects on duty tonight slack off. I’ll get you into the Restricted Section.” With that, he sauntered away, disappearing behind the same bookshelf he came from.

____

The constant drip of the dungeons echoed around her as she hid in the shadows, anxiously watching the corridor for any signs of a Prefect, Professor, or George. The thrill of sneaking around the castle after curfew died out after about five minutes after she stood in the hall waiting for George. Now, ten minutes later, she was scared that he forgot about their plans, or that he grew tired and ditched her. Both would be embarrassing and absolutely soul-crushing, but one-hundred percent a possibility. Looking at the watch on her wrist, she decided to wait for five more minutes. “Sorry to keep you, Love-” A deep voice spoke from behind her, sounding out of breath. Whirling around, she almost let you a shrill scream, but a hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her.

She shoved his hand away from her mouth, letting her speak. “Merlin, George,” She sighed, her hand pressed over her heart as she tried to calm it before she had a heart attack. “You scared the wits right out of me!” She shoved him lightly, making him let out a soft laugh. She glared up at him.

“Once again, I am sorry, Love,” He pulled out his natural charm, making her disdain melt away in an instant. “I had to do a bit of running. Apparently one of the other Prefects on shift today was sick so the Percy clone, who is ever the keener, took their shift and he’s a bugger to shake off.”

“Percy clone?” Y/N repeated curiously. Of course she knew of Percy Weasley. The incessant Prefect who seemed to actually like rules. She respected Percy, more than most people. While he was at Hogwarts, he ruffled many feathers with his pompous attitude, but Y/N tried to remember that he didn’t mean to come across nasty.

“That’s what the Gryffindors are calling the new Prefect, he’s just like Percy. So much like him, that if he had red hair, I would think he was related to us,” George explained. “Speaking of which, we better scurry along before Percy squared pops up.” He nudged his head in the direction of the Library. Y/N furrowed her brows, pointing to the stairs behind her.

“But the Library is that way.” She corrected him, but he laughed in reply, confusing her more.

“Not when you’re with me it’s not,” He winked. She opened her mouth to question him, but the echo of a distant footfall at the top of the long, winding, stone staircase behind her made her freeze, her blood running cold. “That’s our cue.” George didn’t even flinch, instead, grabbing Y/N’s hand and yanking her farther down the dark corridor.

“I am putting all my trust in your hands right now, Weasley. I’ve never been outside the Common Room after curfew so I’ve got a seven-year clean streak of not having detention for knowingly breaking school rules.” She informed him as he darted down a corridor she’s never been in. It was dark, so dark that Y/N couldn’t even see George. The only thing she had that confirmed his presence was his tight grip on her hand.

“Don’t worry, you’re in great hands, Love.” He told her, a flirty tone in his voice. She groaned internally, wishing his flirting didn’t cause a flurry of butterflies within the pit of her stomach, wishing that his touch didn’t send a tingling burn that could only be compared to a wildfire shooting up her arm, but most importantly, she wished that all of this wasn’t so confusing. She just wished that she could figure out a way to know if a string would eventually appear or not so that she could spare herself the confusion and the dull heartache that had persisted in her chest since the day he tripped over her legs.

“Are we almost there?” She asked nervously to George, wanting the race against the watchful eyes patrolling the corridors and the heat consuming her body from their conjoined hands to end.

“Just this staircase and a few short corridors left.” George told her, poking his head out of the end of the corridor they were in, checking up and down the main corridor for any sign of people. Y/N barely had time to breathe out a shaky breath before George was running across the wide corridor, tugging her along behind him. She let out a squeak when her eye caught a warm glow from around the corner at the opening to the corridor, the shadow of a cat growing on the stone walls.

“George, it’s Filch and Mrs. Norris!” She whispered, making the tall redhead snap his eyes towards the echoing steps and the small meow from Mrs. Norris as she obviously picked up their scent.

“Quick, take off your sweater,” George pulled her into the corridor they were headed for, pointing to her large cardigan that was nearly falling off her shoulders. She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “You’re right, Filch will know someone’s been out of bed if you leave the sweater there, it’s not part of the uniform.” He paused tapping his chin as the echoing footsteps stopped.

“What do you smell, Mrs. Norris? Students out of bed?” Filch’s voice echoed instead, making Y/N look up at George with wide eyes. The flames from the touches in the main hall just barely lighting his face, only making one side of it visible to her. For a moment, she forgot about Filch and Mrs. Norris, too consumed with the beauty of George Weasley. It appeared that when he looked down at her, he too was taken aback by the soft orange glow illuminating half her face in a way that could only be adequately described in her muggle romance books that Pippa hooked her on. She blinked, internally shaking her head as she scolded herself. George Weasley was not breath taken by her beauty, she was just being a hopeless dreamer once again and it was not helping her with her little crush.

“Here,” George seemed to snap out of whatever caught his focus too with a couple of quick blinks of his eyes. He pried off his ratty old sneaker, making Y/N look down with wide eyes. Peeling off his sock, he tossed it into the middle of the corridor, careful to stay hidden behind the cover of the shadows. “It’ll make Filch think that someone just carelessly left their sock there before curfew, covering us for a bit.” He explained, wiggling his foot back into his sneaker with a slight struggle.

“But, it’s still warm.” She pointed out the flaw as he tried to jam his heel into the still tied sneaker.

“Not by the time Filch stops ranting to Mrs. Norris, it wouldn’t stay warm for long in this weather, it’s bloody freezing for September,” George commented, finally sliding his foot into the shoe, his hand reaching out to grab hers once again. “Come on, we have to get as far away from here as possible, Mrs. Norris has my scent memorized at this point.” He warned, tugging on her hand gently before taking off in a run down the narrow corridor and up the tight staircase Y/N barely saw in the darkness. He led her expertly through the last few turns, running along the darkened passageways with only the echoes of their shoes against the stone surrounding them.

“Oh wow,” Y/N breathed out as they came to a halt in front of the large, magnificent doors of the library. There was a whole other beauty to the normally breath-taking oak doors as the moonlight laid upon it. “What other castle secrets are you hiding?” She asked him, half-jokingly as he looked down at her, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Tons, Love,” He answered her, pushing the heavy door open just enough for them to slip through. Nodding his head under his arm, he indicated for her to go first. Obeying his unspoken command, she swooped under his arm, stepping foot into the library. “Even hiding some of my own secrets.” He muttered, more to himself, but Y/N heard, having not wanted to venture too far into the library in fear of someone lurking in the shadows the moonlight reaching through the windows couldn’t reach.

“Do tell some of your secrets, George Weasley.” She hummed as they walked towards the Restricted Section. Glancing over, she noted how the moonlight hit his skin and hair, making him glow incandescently. She couldn’t help but to gaze upon him longer, he just looked so ethereal, so divine - almost as if he belonged in Greek Mythology as the God of divine beauty.

“What do you want to know,” He wondered, picking up the old, cast-iron lock as if it was nothing. With furrowed brows, she sent him a questioning look. No matter how strong someone was, there was no way they could pick up a lock such as that as if it were a piece of paper. Feeling her gaze, he looked over at her. “Switched the lock the other day. It’s an exact replica that only unlocks for Fred or me. The best thing, it acts and feels just like the other one for anyone else. Here, give it a feel.” He grabbed her wrist with his free hand, gently laying the lock in her hand. With a startling jolt and a click, the lock locked, laying heavy in her hand.

“Oh wow,” She breathed out, her arm straining to stay still as she held the heavy lock. “It really does feel like the real thing.” She observed, impressed.

“We spent the past six years at Hogwarts trying to perfect this and this summer, we finally did it,” He explained, taking the lock from her as gently as he had been when he placed it in her palm. With another jolt and click, the lock was open. Quickly feeding it back through the chain before pulling the chain just enough for him to be able to crack the large, metal gates open. “Go on,” He nudged his head towards the open gate, holding it open for her to slip through. He followed through, more awkwardly due to his long limbs and tall stature. “So, back to what we were talking about before,” He cleared his throat, standing to his full height and turning back to the gate. “What secrets do you want to know?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder at her as she stood half bathed in the shadows, the moonlight only ghosting over half her face.

“You don’t actually have to tell me any of your secrets, George, I was just joking.” She clarified, watching his back move under his knitted sweater - the same sweater he wore the day he tripped over her. He expertly wove the chain back through the handles of the gate, pressing the lock closed with a loud, echoing click, making it look like it was untouched.

“No, no,” George shook his head, whirling around to face her, his arms crossing over his chest. She perked an eyebrow at this, confused. “That’s not how this works-” He paused, taking two large steps closer to her, almost swaggering if Y/N had to describe it. “You cannot just ask me to reveal my secrets and then say you’re joking, I’m supposed to be the one who jokes here.”

She rolled her eyes at this as he smiled wide, glad to get a reaction from her. Flicking his tongue over his bottom lip, his eyes flicking all the way down to her feet before springing back up to her face. She resisted the urge for her eyes to roll back into her head at the sheer attractiveness of the action as she sent him the best glare she could muster. “Well, how does this work? Not everyone plays by Weasley rules.” She reminded him, trying to keep up the snarky facade.

George paused for a moment, his lips pursing and his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “You’re acting different.” He commented, his eyes raking over her in a much different way than a second ago.

“Are we just going to keep changing the subject?”

“I’m just expressing concern,” George raised his hands in the air defensively. “But, if you wish, the rules are simple: I tell you a secret, you tell me one,” He explained, flicking his finger between the pair as he talked. “Since you’re not coming up with something, I’ll start, how about that, Love?”

“Fine by me, but can we do this while looking for the books?” She pleaded, the fear of being caught fair outweighing her desire to appear snarky and nonchalant now that they were hidden in the Restricted Section - soon to be fully immersed in the shadows.

“I’ll lead the way,” He nodded, agreeing to her circumstances. Muttering a quiet, but clear ‘Lumos’ the rows upon rows of dark, cobweb connected bookshelves were suddenly exposed to them, the light from George’s wand being held up high enough to cover the majority of the space surrounding them. “Okay, now, I want to know-” He trailed off, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he tried to figure out what to reveal about the girl next to him. “Tell me why you’re so caught up about this soulmate stuff.” He pried, looking over at her as they slowly made their way down the aisle George and Fred ventured down last night.

She shrugged, looking ahead into the darkness that continued to inch away from them the farther they walked. “I’m not really sure. I’ve just always been drawn to all the sappy, cliche, cheesy romance stuff. I like hearing the testimonies of people telling the story of when they found their soulmate,” She confessed. “My favourite thing about it is just the thought of having someone connected to you for your whole life. Constantly, there are parallels mirroring each other's lives, but you have no idea where this person is! They could be right next to you or they could be in a whole other country, only to be brought together one fateful day,” She gushed, not noticing George watching her as she expressed her fascination. “It sounds like a romance novel - two people, living two completely different lives, the only thing connecting them: an invisible string.”

“Interesting,” George nodded. “May I ask you another question before you dig into my secrets?” He asked politely, stopping in the spot where he had found the books last night, holding his wand to the bookshelf to scan the pristine books. Y/N also gazed at them, noting how almost all of them were in such great condition. Perhaps it was due to the lack of people handling them, perhaps, Madam Pince had some sort of possessive feeling over them and cleaned them every morning before the library opened - whatever it was, she would never know, but it didn’t bother her too much.

“Go for it.” She gave him the go-ahead.

“What do you think the string looks like when you find your soulmate?” He posed the question, looking down at her once again. She stilled, her finger just lightly touching the spine of an older book that was visibly worn down.

“I’m not too sure, I think it’s different for a lot of people. I’ve heard some people say that their string was two different colour strings intricately twisted together. But others say theirs was just one string. Typically, the colour is gold, but there have been different colours than that reported,” She answered his question almost as if she were an expert on the topic - as if it was the job she did day in and day out, just researching soulmates. “Okay, now my turn, I have just the question for you-” She turned to face him, the light from his wand lighting her up entirely. “You act like you don’t care about finding your soulmate, is that really the case?”

“Of course I care about finding my soulmate, but I’m not worrying myself sick about it or anything,” He informed her. She nodded, understanding where he was coming from. “I just don’t see the point in not living and experiencing things while I sit around and wait for the universe to reveal my soulmate. How am I supposed to woo my soulmate off her feet if I don’t know how to be romantic?”

“Makes sense.” Y/N nodded, turning to look back at the books. Another thing that proved that she and George Weasley were not soulmates. He would never go for someone who would rather sit and wait for the universe to reveal her soulmate. She was tired of the dating scene and hook-up culture. She wanted a true connection and not just another lousy boyfriend.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am naturally romantic, it’s a gift, but with all-natural talent, you must learn how to use it,” He continued, his eyes squinting to try and read the faded words on a book spine. “Don’t tell anyone this, but sometimes when I zone out, I’m imagining what it will be like to finally find my soulmate - how it’ll happen and all that,” He paused, pulling a book off the shelf, resting it on the ledge as he moved on. “I like to imagine different ways I would meet her.”

“I do that too,” Y/N exclaimed, almost too loudly making her shrink back and clear her throat, hoping George didn’t think she was a complete dork, but also her unexpected shout hadn’t gotten them caught. Silence encompassed them as they both browsed the books, plunking relevant ones off the shelves as they went. Clearing her throat once again, Y/N glanced over at George quickly, seeing him focused on a book, his head tilted exposing his sharp jawline even more. Y/N swallowed thickly as she admired him. With his new shorter haircut, he looked ten times hotter (which Y/N wasn’t sure was possible) than last year. It was almost like he aged by two years, appearing more mature. “So, um,” She cleared her throat, needing to get her mind off the jawline she so desperately wanted to kiss alone at that moment. “If you’re not too worried about finding your soulmate, how did you know that they got new books in the Restricted Section on soulmates?”

“Easy, Love,” He started, pulling another book off the shelf. “One fell on my head last night, nearly knocked me out,” He informed her, holding the large, red and gold book up with one hand, his forearm straining making Y/N’s mouth go dry. “It was this one actually, I was taken back by how much it looked like the one you were reading the day we met. When I went to put it back, I realized it was the newest version of the book you were reading.” He commented, looking at the book as he placed it with the others. Y/N couldn’t fight her smile as she realized that George had remembered the small details of that day just like she had - having them all permanently tattooed in her memory.

____

Unfortunately, due to Umbridge's reign of terror upon Hogwarts, that was the last time Y/N and George had been able to talk. The only class they shared had been Defense Against the Dark Arts and Umbridge hadn’t let boys and girls sit next to one another in fear they would apparently spontaneously start having sex in the middle of class. Whatever the reason was, Y/N cursed the pink monster for it. But, once she found out George and Fred had left Hogwarts all together because of her, she down-right hated the woman and wished only the worst upon her - even now, a good three years after she graduated from Hogwarts.

However, one good thing came from George’s early departure from the school: Y/N finally was able to figure out that they were absolutely not soulmates. For if they were, the universe surely wouldn’t have made him leave before their string was revealed, would it? Y/N found herself pondering that question often. Especially now as she walked down the snowy cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley as yet another failed date yammered on beside her. He was currently telling her the story of how he single-handedly took down Wizarding London’s most notorious illegal potion smuggler - again. “Hey, Nickleson!” A deep, goofy voice hollered from farther down the alley making Y/N’s date run over to him.

Breathing out a much-needed breath, Y/N looked around frantically for an escape. Spotting a dimly lit alley, she darted down as a large group of elderly witches waddled by, providing her cover from her date and his friends as they talked. Spotting a red-painted door, Y/N (for the first time in three years) praised the universe for providing her with a decent escape from a horrid date. Pulling her gloved hands from the pockets of her travelling cloak, she yanked the door towards her, ducking in. “Safe at last in this-” Her mind stopped when she realized she didn’t know where she was. “Is this a dive bar?” She asked herself in her mind again, looking around at the fifties decorations.

“I was beginning to think we weren’t ever going to run into each other again.” A voice spoke from the bar. Looking towards it, she spotted the familiar head of red hair she never thought she would see again. Wheeling around on the red, leather stool, he turned to face her properly, still sitting down. Taking a moment out of shock, Y/N drank him in, her mouth hanging open slightly. He wore a brown suit, the funky print on his tie matching the one on his suit jacket. Even in business clothes, he managed to find a way to stand out.

“George?” She breathed out, walking towards him as she pulled her gloves off her hands, shedding her travelling cloak as the hot air from the kitchen heated the dining room. She wasn’t entirely sure what drew her to this alley and to this door out of all the others, but now that she saw who was behind this door, she was thankful the invisible force tugged her towards it.

“In the flesh,” He nodded, smiling wide as she sat on the stool beside him, her thawing hands picking up the menu that lay in the unoccupied spot, eyes skimming it. George took a moment to watch her, almost not believing that she was sitting next to him - Y/N couldn’t believe it was George sitting next to her either. “What brought you here? Not many people know about this place, I like to think of it as my little secret hideout.”

“Oh, I was just escaping somebody,” She waved him off, setting the menu back down, still too full from her lunch date. “What about you? Why are you here eating alone? On your lunch break?” She wondered, turning her chair slightly to point her knees towards him, giving him her full attention.

“Just that,” He shrugged, picking up one of the last french fries from his plate, popping it into his mouth. “On my lunch break from the shop, decided to treat myself to lunch today instead of packing it,” He answered her question, taking a sip of his soda. “But tell me about the person you were escaping.” He swallowed his drink, crossing his hands over one another as he waited for her to talk.

“It was this horrible guy someone at my work set me up with, I just had to get out of there fast and I saw the door to this dive bar.” She explained as George waved down the waiter, sliding his neatly stacked plate and empty cup over to him before placing some money on the bar, standing up and picking his winter gear off the stool beside him.

Y/N followed suit, hoping her date caught the drift and left. “You seem to have bad luck with guys, Love.” He noted as he shrugged his winter coat on. Y/N snorted, nodding as she wrapped herself back up in her travelling cloak.

“Tell me about it,” She agreed, pulling her gloves on as they walked to the door. “Are you going back to work?” She asked as he pulled open the door, letting the bitter cold blow into the Dive Bar, attacking their cheeks. Stepping out, her boots crunched on the loose snow dusting the cobblestones. George stepped out a second later, his ginger hair being instantly sprinkled with the falling snowflakes.

“I’m sure Fred can manage a bit longer,” He waved off the concern as they settled beside each other in the empty alleyway. Slowly walking, they both basked in the company of the person they never thought they would see again. “But tell me, what are you doing for work these days?” He posed the question, craning his head to the side to watch her. She kept her eyes down on the slippery snow ahead of her, the wind pushing her hair back lightly making her bury her face farther into the scarf she tucked under her travelling cloak.

“I actually work for an independent research company, we work to solve the biggest mysteries of the wizarding world and even the muggle world,” She explained, her eyes lighting up as she talked of her career. “I’m assigned to researching soulmates, we’ve made great progress in the past few years.”

“That’s great, Y/N. I always pictured you doing something with soulmates.” He commented, his hands slipping into the pockets of his jacket, a soft smile tugging on his lips as he glanced at the ground in front of him.

“Something tells me you didn’t need to be a seer to predict this,” She laughed, not paying attention to where she was placing her feet. Blissfully unaware, she felt her feet slipping out from under her causing her stomach to twist and her smile to fall - being replaced by fear as she realized that she was falling. “Bloody hell!” She gasped.

George, thinking fast, tried to help her, but the ice underneath their feet was too slick with freshly fallen snow. In a matter of seconds, George’s feet slid out from under him, sending him and the already falling Y/N crashing down. Y/N’s breath hitched as her back smacked against the frozen cobblestone, but she managed a grunt when George’s lanky body sank down onto her, a groan leaving his lips upon impact. “Sorry, Love, are you okay,” George began to ask once he realized he had fallen on top of Y/N, pushing himself up only slightly, he paused, his eyes locked on her parted lips. Fluttering her eyes open, Y/N sent him an odd look. “You still wear the same lipstick - the brown colour with the matching lip pencil.” He almost breathed the words in awe, still staring at her lips.

“Um, yeah, I really like how it looks,” She nodded, wondering why he wasn’t climbing off her yet. With her voice strained from the weight of him, she spoke up again. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re kind of smushing me into the cobblestone.”

“Oh! Right, sorry, Love-” He tried to scramble up, but a tug on both their stomachs made them look down, George’s sentence getting cut off. Gasping, Y/N eyes grew wide as she saw it. The one thing she has been waiting her entire life to see - and it was attached to George Weasley out of all people. There, connecting their stomachs (Y/N’s at her belly button, George’s just below his sternum), was the magnificent, elusive, and otherwise invisible string; or strings in their case. Two intertwining strings, one of magnificent gold and one of scarlet red, between them.

“It’s always been you?” Y/N breathed out. She was shocked that her gut feeling had been right - her heart had been right. It was the ginger-haired boy she convinced herself would never be happy with her. The boy she had never been able to shake, even when they hadn’t seen each other for years. He had always crept into her mind in one way or another. She could have kicked herself for not sending a letter to him, thinking that if she had, they would have found the string earlier. But, by some miracle, she had stumbled upon that hidden Dive Bar within the dark alleys of Diagon Alley. In some way, that Dive Bar acted as a blanket thrown over the imprisoning barbed wire - allowing her to escape the fall out of her bad decisions.

“That’s what the universe says, Love,” George shrugged smugly, looking as if he had been dreaming of this day and (little did Y/N know) he had been. Constantly having dreams and daydreaming of the string that connected him to the schoolboy crush that carried into adulthood. “And you of all people should know that the universe is never wrong when it comes to the invisible string.”

you wanting me tonight feels impossible || George Weasley

Title: you wanting me tonight feels impossible Pairing: George x Reader Summary: running into an old friend just might be the thing you need Warnings: mentions of cheating but it does not take place between George and the reader!  A/N: here she is, the next part! Honestly writing this fic gave me major nostalgia vibes, to me it feels like a fic I would have written back when i first started on tumblr and honestly im not mad about it.

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“Y/N?”

She turns at the sound of her name, eyes widening in surprise at who she finds standing behind her. 

“Oh no way. George, hi,” Y/N greets. Her stomach flutters at the grin that spreads across his face, her mouth running dry at how good he looks. 

The last time she’d seen George they were seventeen, and he was flying away from Hogwarts with Fred by his side. Most people had been laughing, overfilled with joy at watching the twins get one last prank over on old Umbridge before they disappeared into the night. And Y/N had been happy too, but she also found herself a bit mournful. 

Her and George weren’t exactly friends she’d say, but acquainted in the way people from other houses were with each other after being in the same classes for seven years. They were friendly with each other in the halls and in classes, and the few times they’d been paired up for projects George had always been nice, and stuck around to talk with her about things unrelated to school or their coursework. 

And like most girls in their school, she had a massive crush on him. Y/N had spent countless hours pining after the Weasley boy, doodling hearts around his name and imagining what it would be like to run her hands through his soft ginger hair. 

So watching him fly away left her sad and mourning any chance she may have had with him. 

To see him here now, older and more refined but still as handsome as ever, has her heart pounding, mind already going places she never thought it would go again. 

“I thought that was you. How’ve you been?” George asks, holding his arms out for a hug. When she steps into his embrace he continues, arms wrapping around her middle. “It’s been ages, I never really see you around here.”

Y/N tries to keep her breathing even as George hugs her, not wanting to give away how much his casual touch is affecting her. She very much feels like that shy school girl she once was, no matter how many times she tries to remind herself that she is an adult now, and it’s perfectly normal for two acquaintances who haven’t seen each other in a while to hug. 

“I moved abroad after graduation,” she explains as they pull away, hoping the blush on her cheeks isn’t obvious. “I was doing some work with magical creatures in Australia, but I started to miss home.”

Y/N decides to leave out the fact that what really prompted her arrival back to England was the discovery of her fiance in bed with a woman she considered to be her best friend, figuring that’s more of a conversation the second or third time they see each other. If they see each other again. She doesn’t want to get her hopes up. 

“Don’t tell me you’re the new professor at Hogwarts?” George asks, a twinkle in his eye. When Y/N nods in affirmation, he laughs. “No way, that’s bloody brilliant. Fred and I are opening a branch of Wheezes up in Hogsmeade, I’m moving up there next week to run it. Looks like we’re going to be neighbors,” he finishes, nudging Y/N and giving her a wink. 

“Guess so,” Y/N laughs, trying to dampen the butterflies in her stomach. “It’s actually quite a relief to hear that, I was a bit nervous about being up there with no company besides my old professors. I’m glad to have a familiar face around.”

George’s grin widens. “I’ve gotta run, but it was really nice to see you again, Y/N. I’ll see you again soon.”

Just as quickly as he was there he’s gone again, just like all of those years ago. But Y/N doesn’t feel sad. There’s just one thing she’s feeling, really:

Hope.

-

“Fancy seeing you here.”

The grin that spreads across her face is automatic at the sound of George’s voice, and Y/N has to take a few deep breaths to center herself before turning around to greet him. She’s excited to see a matching smile on George’s face, and it only fuels the butterflies that have started to flutter in her lower belly. 

“George,” she greets, motioning to the empty seat next to her in invitation. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“I was hoping I’d run into you,” George starts as he takes a seat, shoulder nudging Y/N’s. “I was starting to think you were just a figment of my imagination.”

She can’t help the flush that takes over her cheeks, hoping it can be chalked up to the heat in the room from the crowded bar. Y/N has been up at Hogwarts for almost a week now, and while getting ready for classes and settling into her new suite at the castle has been time consuming, she’s been avoiding heading into Hogsmeade. It’s not that she hasn’t been dying to run into George again, because that is definitely something she has thought about nonstop since their last chance encounter. 

It’s more like she’s been scared to see him again, scared that whatever old feelings their chance encounter dragged back to the surface aren’t returned. That she has been dying to see him again while George was off living his life, not giving Y/N and their brief reunion another thought. 

But even in just these few short moments since he sat down, Y/N feels all those fears fading away. George is the one who sought her out, the bar is crowded enough that she’d have been none the wiser if he snuck in and took a seat somewhere else to try and avoid her. And yet he is the one who came over, the one who took a seat and decided to settle in at her side. 

Y/N can’t help but hope that this isn’t one sided after all. 

“Things have been busy up at the castle,” she explains, not totally lying. With only one week left until students arrive for the start of the year, even Filch has been on edge - constantly mumbling to Mrs. Norris as he mops the Great Hall for the fourth time. “This is the first night I haven’t been so exhausted that I fell asleep right after dinner.”

George chuckles, taking a sip of the firewhiskey Rosmerta has just placed on the bar in front of him. “I know the feeling. We did a bit of a soft launch this week for the new store, thinking it would be less busy without all the students around so I would have a chance to work out all the hiccups and get my new staff trained, but it was crazier than anticipated. So now I’ve spent the last few evenings working overtime to get everything sorted for our actual grand opening next weekend.”

“Look at you,” Y/N teases, bumping their shoulders together in a playful gesture. “Never thought I’d see the day George Weasley was putting in overtime. You sure you’re the same George who used to sleep through transfiguration?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” he drawls, giving Y/N a wink that makes her heart flutter. “I’ll have you know that I retained more information by sleeping through McGonagall’s lessons instead of daydreaming during it.” He pauses then, a more serious look taking over his features. “But in all honesty, it’s so different when it’s something you’re passionate about - ya know?”

Y/N nods when George looks to her for confirmation, prompting him to continue. 

“You’re right, in school I couldn’t be arsed to do more than what was required of me to not get kicked out. Though I guess it doesn’t really matter on account of the fact that Fred and I never finished anyway,” he pauses to chuckle and take another drag from his glass. “But doing everything for Wheezes, it doesn’t really feel like work. Like obviously at the end of the day I’m bloody exhausted and some days my whole body aches, but in the moment when I’m doing it, or when I stop to think about everything Fred and I have managed to achieve, I don’t really mind it at all.”

Hearing George speak so passionately about his work makes Y/N fall just a little bit more in love with him, and at the end of his speech she has to take a sip from her own glass to give her some time to think of something to say that’s not some kind of love confession. 

“I’m really happy for you, George. You’re clearly passionate about what you do, and I’m glad that you found that for yourself.”

George’s cheeks flush, and he takes another sip to try and hide it. “What about you, Y/N? Have you found your passion?”

The way he mutters passion makes Y/N’s toes curl, and she prays to Godric that the shiver that runs down her spine isn’t noticeable. 

“I thought I did,” she starts, shifting uncomfortably. She figured this conversation would come up eventually, but Y/N had been hoping she’d have more time to reconnect with George before airing out all of her dirty laundry. “The work I was doing in Australia was incredible. I could swear some of the creatures out there were straight out of a muggle fantasy novel, they were nothing like we’d ever learned about at Hogwarts.”

“So then why move back here?” George prompts when she hesitates to continue. 

“I came home early from work one day, one of our dragon’s eggs had hatched, and my boss let everyone go home to celebrate. And when I walked in I couldn’t find my fiance anywhere, until I went into our bedroom to change and he was there. In bed. Railing my best friend.”

The noise George makes causes her to pause, and Y/N gives him a sad smile before continuing. “I loved Australia, but suddenly I just really needed to get the fuck out of there, you know? Like it’s a huge continent and yet the only way I felt like I could put enough space between myself and that situation was to leave. So when McGonagall reached out about the position at Hogwarts I said yes and didn’t look back.”

“Holy fuck,” George breathes after a moment of silence, draining the rest of the liquid in his cup. “I’m not gonna lie, Y/N, that was the last possible thing I thought you might say. But holy fuck.” He gives her a look, motioning for Rosmerta to refill their glasses. 

“I’m sorry those dickwads did that to you, cheating is probably one of the worst things someone could do to you,” he continues once their cups are full again. “I’m sorry about Australia too, I can’t imagine having to leave Wheezes behind, it takes a special person to walk away from that.”

Y/N shrugs, desperately trying to trample down the butterflies in her stomach at George’s casual compliments. No matter how many times she tries to remind herself that George is just being a good friend, her brain can’t help but interpret his actions as something more. 

“I mourned the loss of my relationship and Australia for a bit, but I don’t know. Something about being back home at Hogwarts just feels right.”Something about being here with you too, her brain adds unhelpfully. “I mean, if I had stayed in Australia I never would have ran into you that day,” she chides, playfully bumping their shoulders together. 

The grin that spreads across George’s face is earth shattering, and he lets out a laugh as he raises his glass. “I’ll drink to that. Cheers, Y/N, to old friends and new beginnings!”

As their glasses clink together Y/N can only hope that her new job at Hogwarts isn’t the only new beginning they’re toasting. 

-

“Well I must say your workplace looks much more fun than mine,” Y/N jokes as she comes up behind George, giving him a grin as he twirls around to see her. “And miraculously it seems much louder as well,” she continues following a roar of laughter. 

“Y/N!” George greets excitedly, his smile stretching across his entire face. “I was hoping I might see you here today.”

She can feel her cheeks flush, and takes a deep breath in to try and quell the butterflies in her stomach. “Of course, there’s no place I’d rather be on my first day of freedom.”

Since the day students arrived at Hogwarts, Y/N has barely had time to breathe - let alone sneak down to Hogsmeade. Between planning her lessons, actually giving those lessons, grading assignments and fielding student questions and visits to her office, the only thing Y/N has managed to do once she retires to her quarters in the evening is pass out face first into bed. And while her and George have exchanged a few owls here and there since their last encounter, nothing beats actually seeing him in person.

So when McGonagall asked for staff volunteers to chaperone the first Hogsmeade trip of the term, Y/N’s hand was first in the air. She’d much rather spend her Saturday meandering through the little village than facilitating weekend detention. And if she happened to wander into the new shop along main street that’s run by a familiar ginger boy - then so be it.

“I’m honored,” George responds. He gestures wildly with his hand, taking a step closer to Y/N so he can lean in closer. “Let me give you the grand tour.”

George leads Y/N around the shop then, pointing out different products and explaining what they do. He keeps a hand pressed to the small of her back to keep her close, and the heat of his palm sends tingles radiating through her body. She’s mesmerized by the way he talks about his work, and Y/N is almost too focused on watching his eyes twinkle that she’s not even sure what he’s actually saying most of the time. At one point he even leans in to whisper in her ear so she can hear him over the noise of the store, and the feeling of his breath brushing her cheek sends a wave of shivers down her spine. 

It seems like only a matter of minutes before Y/N and George end up back where they started, and much to her surprise and joy, George doesn’t make a move to pull away. His hand stays firmly pressed against Y/N’s back, and she takes the liberty to lean in even closer to the ginger man. 

“So,” George murmurs, lips barely brushing against her hair. “What do you think of the place?”

“It’s great, George,” she answers honestly, still in awe of everything Fred and George have managed to build over the last few years. “You can tell how much you really care about what you do, and the creativity George, your mind is incredible.”

A light blush coats George’s cheeks as he waves away Y/N’s praise. “Oh stop, it’s not like I’m a professor or anything,” he teases, giving her a nudge. “I’m just a silly guy with a brother and a dream - that’s all.”

“George,” Y/N admonishes, nudging him right back. “You really are brilliant, and anyone who’s ever made you doubt that is a git. What you and Fred have done is amazing, you’ve taken your passion for something and turned it into this empire that does nothing but bring joy to people. That took a lot of hard work, dedication and skill. It’s incredible George - truly.”

Neither one says anything, just letting Y/N’s words hang heavy between them. The noise of the shop has faded into the background, electricity so heavy in the air Y/N can feel it tingle on the tip of her tongue. George starts to slowly lean down just as she starts to tip her head back, their bodies moving closer of their own accord. 

Eyelids fluttering closed, Y/N can feel George’s breath ghost across her lips - the only thought in her head a quietly whispered “finally.” 

Just as suddenly as they came together, Y/N and George separate as a worried voice calls out. “Professor! Professor, come quick! John and Thomas are fighting again!”

“Duty calls,” George sighs, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. He lets his thumb drag down across her jaw, pausing momentarily to lightly grapes her chin. “See you soon?”

All she can manage in response is a nod. Taking one more moment to mourn what could have been, she rushes away from George, cursing those damn kids to hell.

-

“Excuse me professor - do you have a moment?”

Y/N’s hand pauses mid scribble, fingers practically snapping the quill she’s holding in half as she looks up to find none other than George Weasley standing in the doorway to her office. The smile that spreads across her mouth matches the one George is wearing and she pushes the papers she’d been grading, gesturing for him to come in. 

“I think I may be able to spare a moment just for you,” she teases. Y/N stands up from behind her desk, watching George closely as she comes around to stand in front of him. “How in the hell did you get in here?”

George chuckles, stuffing his hands into his packers as he gives Y/N a shrug. “Turns out the secret passages Fred and I used to sneak out of the castle are just as helpful when trying to sneak in to it.”

Y/N tuts, shaking her head as if in shame. “George Weasley sneaking into Hogwarts. What would Fred have to say about that?”

“Fred snuck out plenty of times to go and see a cute girl, I reckon he’d understand me sneaking in to do the same.”

George’s boldness surprises Y/N, and she suddenly can’t make eye contact as her cheeks flush pink. A single finger comes to rest on the underside of her chin, slowly tilting Y/N’s face up so she and George are looking at each other once again. Her body feels electric as their eyes meet and a shiver runs down her spine. 

“Hi,” George greets breathily after a moment of silence. The smile he gets in response causes a torrent of butterflies to erupt in his stomach and he can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. 

“Hi,” Y/N responds, voice barely above a whisper. 

If you had told her all those years ago that someday she’d be standing here right now with George Weasley with his hand pressed against the side of her neck as his thumb skates across her jaw line she would have called you crazy. It seemed impossible that George would even give Y/N a second thought, let alone sneak back into the castle for just a moment with her. All of her dreams are coming true - and Y/N is too tempted to pinch herself to make sure it’s all real. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” George starts. The words move quickly out of his mouth, as if he’s trying to get them all out before he loses the confidence he has managed to scrounge up. “Like since that moment I saw you at the potion shop all those months ago. My one regret from our school days was that I never got the nerve to ask you out. And then when I never saw you in the shop or around Diagon Alley I figured I’d missed my chance. So when I saw you that day, standing in the middle of a shop I’d gone to hundreds of times over the years it felt like, I dunno it felt like.”

“A second chance,” Y/N finishes for him, voice lit with disbelief. 

George grins, giving a small nod. “Yes, exactly like that. And suddenly you were every thought that occupied my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about running into you again, and the interactions we had in school, what might happen between us now that we’d be living ten minutes from each other. You were just on a loop in my thoughts.”

“It was probably stupid of me,” George continues, eyes never leaving Y/N’s. “We’d had one conversation after years of not speaking and we were never really friends at school but I couldn’t help but feel-.”

“Hope,” she finished again. “And it wasn’t stupid of you, George. Because I felt the exact same way. Seeing you that day made me truly believe that taking that job at Hogwarts was my opportunity for a second chance. A second chance at finding my dream job, of finding my true home, of finding true love. You made me feel that George and I-.”

Except whatever Y/N was about to say disappears from her mind, as George takes the opportunity to interrupt her this time. Without a second thought he finally closes the distance between them, their mouths slotting together so perfectly it was like they were made for each other. Her hands find his shoulders as his find her neck, angling them so he can kiss her deeper. 

And there’s still so many things they need to talk about and figure out. But in this moment the only thing Y/N can think about is George, and this weird but beautiful thing they’re about to discover. 

you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina,  to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

-

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

-

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."

Sheer Luck [Fred Weasley x Reader] - Requested

Title: Sheer Luck Pairing: Fred Weasley x Female!Reader Word count: 4.2k Published: 13 September 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warnings: Mention of food and a bit of swearing Summary: Fred has no choice but to help George in the shop, leaving his son, the little Fabian to play alone for a little while longer. But when Fabian goes missing, Fred panics only to find his son in the company of none other than the girl he still harbours those stupid feelings for. Request: [x] Request sent by @prismarts

"Hi bab! Congratulations on the 2.9k followers and the anniversary! I hope you're having a great time celebrating! I was hoping if I could ask for🗡️. If I could please request a Fred Weasley fic where he is a single dad and asks the reader, an old friend of his from Hogwarts, to help babysit his kid cause he was unbelievably busy with the joke shop that day and the kid gets attached to her."

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Battle of Swords; 2.9k followers and 1st anniversary celebration event

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The Weasley family had always been known to be loud and full of life, each member adding to the lovely chaos with their own handful of personalities. Fred's son, the little Fabian was of course, no exception. Unsurprisingly, he was energetic and at times rather troublesome just like his own father. There was never a dull moment around him. It's been 5 years since Fred first held the little bundle of joy, his tiny body comfortably laying across his lower arm. Only 5 years. He couldn't comprehend how fast he had grown and how smart he had become in such a short amount of time. But with such an independent little boy, trouble was always lurking around the corner.

Fred was assisting George in the shop, helping with the sea of customers. He wasn't supposed to be working, but George couldn't keep up and the new recruit they hired quickly turned around and left the shop upon seeing how busy the place had become. So, Fred had no choice but to help his brother out whilst often his eyes wandered to Fabian who was seated beside a shelf, playing with a toy, trying to entertain himself.

The chiming of the bell above the entrance never ceased and even when Fred had gone to the storage room in the back to pick up a couple of boxes, it still rang in his ears as though it was permanently stuck in his memory. With a subtle shake of his head, he returned to the counter and placed the boxes behind him whilst he served the next customer. Between typing two digits into the till, he turned towards the shelf where Fabian was seated at, only to find the tiny wooden chair empty, no sign of his son anywhere nearby. His heart skipped a beat, his breathing turned shallow as his eyes frantically surveyed the shop. Panic flooded his entire being. As though someone dumped a bucket of ice-water over him, he froze in his spot, eyes wide in shock, the worst possible scenarios playing in the back of his mind.

Without a word of apology, he left the customer behind and rushed around the shop, looking for the ginger-haired little boy. He ran from the ground floor to the upper floor, from the entrance of the shop to the most hidden storage room in the back, but he couldn't find Fabian. Fred felt as though it was a punishment. He loved his son, he loved how lively he was, but at times he just wanted a bit of calm, a little silence, just a small amount of time for himself. But now all those thoughts seemed like a punishment. Now that Fabian was gone, he wanted to rip anyone to shreds who dared to stand in his way of getting his son back.

A silent chuckle disturbed his self-depreciative thoughts before it turned into a fit of laughter. As fast as the wind, Fred turned around, knowing the voice too well to ever forget. His eyes widened at the sight of his son playing with no other than the only girl who made him lose his mind back in Hogwarts. The only girl who didn't fall for his flirty comments and chat-up lines, the only girl who never wanted to be more than a friend, however hard he'd tried.

"I have a feeling your father will kill me if I keep you away any longer, so let's go back before he realises, you'd disappeared," you giggled as you picked Fabian up and seated him on the curve of your waist. "Just promise me you won't run up to people you don't know in the future, okay?" You gently flicked his nose, earning a small giggle from the boy.

"But I know you. Daddy has a photo of you and him on his desk," Fabian replied as your eyes widened in surprise, your breath hitching. Fred felt his heart skip a beat. A part of him felt relieved to find his son in good hands, but another part bathed in embarrassment at the thought of you realising how infatuated he was with you even after all these years. Though you'd never known about his love for you, he didn't dare confess after all, he was certain if he let Fabian talk, it would quickly change.

"Oh, has he now?" You asked as the initial surprise vanished and a playful smirk sat across your face.

"Fabian!" Fred interrupted, before things took a rather awkward turn. Though he was unable to pretend he wasn't beyond excited to talk to you once again, first, he needed to scold his son. "Didn't I tell you not to just run off and talk to strangers?" He asked as he reached for Fabian and took him from your arms with a grateful nod offered to you.

"But she isn't a stranger. I see her photo every day in your room," he held up his little index finger as though he was lecturing his own father. A comical scoff left Fred's lips.

"But it doesn't mean you can just run off without telling me where you are going. I was worried about you," Fred wasn't the same, careless boy you had met in school, he had grown into a man with responsibilities, family and a business to run. A small smile spread across your face as you watched the conversation between Fabian and Fred, the little boy giving his dad a run for his money.

"Daddy," he pointed his finger in his father's face as though he was ready to scold him this time. "You told me that it's not nice to interrupt people when they are busy," he shook his head as though he was disappointed in his own father.

"I also told you that you have to let me know if you'd like to go somewhere," Fred retorted with a hidden smile in the corner of his lips.

"You see daddy, that's the problem. You told me to let you know if I want to go somewhere, but you also told me not to interrupt people when they are busy. I'm a child daddy. I don't know what you want me to do if you don't make it clear," Fred blinked at his son with wide eyes, shocked at his reply. He only seemed to wake from his momentary trance when a loud giggle erupted from your lungs.

"Oh, your son is a handful," you attempted to stop laughing, but once Fabian winked at you, you couldn't control yourself. Tears welled in your eyes; facial muscles stretched painfully. He was a carbon copy of his father and more.

"Fred!" George's voice came from the counter. "I could use some help," he grimaced, knowing he had interrupted something important, but he had no choice but to ask for his brother's assistance. A heavy sigh left Fred's lungs as he tried to look for a solution. He didn't want to leave Fabian alone nor did he want to leave you just yet. He wanted to talk to you, he wanted to ask how you were, what you've been up to and a thousand other questions, but George needed him.

"The lady can play with me until you are working," Fabian interrupted his train of thoughts.

"You can't just say that," Fred shook his head as he met your gaze.

"I mean, I don't mind. I don't have anything else to do and he seems like a fun kid," you smiled at Fred with the same smile he had loved so dearly as a teenager. You reached for the kid, wiggling your fingers as Fabian returned the gesture, attempting to get out of his dad's arms, but the only obstacle between the two of you seemed to be Fred himself.

"Are you sure?" He asked with a deep frown, not daring to believe what was happening. After all these years he ran into you out of sheer luck and out of nowhere you offered to help him with Fabian who seemingly already felt attached to you.

"My arms are getting tired," you replied, still wiggling your fingers. A deep chuckle left Fred's lips and at last, let you take Fabian from his arms. "Now get back to work," you shooed him away, earning yourself a mischievous grin from Fred as he shook his head.

"Just go to the back, he has his toys there," he said as he turned towards the counter, but after the second step he halted. "Oh, and thank you," you nodded in response and continued toward the back with a giggling Fabian in your arms.

By lunch time the shop calmed down a little and Fred had a minute to take a deep breath and lean against the shelf behind the cashier. He closed his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair, making a mess out of his already dishevelled look. With a heavy sigh, he turned to leave, but he found himself face to face with George, who wore a knowing look and a playful smirk.

"What's that shit eating grin for?" Fred asked with an arched brow and tilted his head slightly.

"You lucky bastard," he chuckled in a reply, confusing his twin even more.

"Am I supposed to understand?" He furrowed at his brother.

"After all these years, you are still in love with her," he chuckled. Fred just shook his head, lips pulled into a thin line, not wanting to give him a reply, but George caught his arm as he tried to escape. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm on about. You were a second away from drooling on the floor," he scoffed in a comical tone, finding entertainment in his brother's love life.

"I did no such thing," he huffed, slightly irritated.

"Oh really," he arched a questioning brow. "Because out of the two of us, it was you with a shit eating grin when you recognised her," his chuckle was dark as though he found enjoyment in annoying his brother, but Fred kept a straight face, attempting to hide how right his twin was. "Fred, you've been alone for the past 5 years," he patted his brother's shoulder. "And for whatever magical reason, she happened to come here on the same day you needed help. Call me a fool, but it is no coincidence," he shrugged as he picked up a box that Fred brought out earlier and walked to the front of the shop to fill up the shelves.

With a heavy sigh, Fred headed to the back of the shop, heart pumping hard against his ribcage, each step speeding up the little rascal that kept him alive as though it knew he was getting closer to you. As he opened the door, eerie silence welcomed him. He looked around the stack of shelves, but he didn't see Fabian or you, nor could he hear anything. Then he continued to the tiny side room where they usually had their lunch break, but it was also empty, though the open triangle sandwich he bought for Fabian was half-eaten on the wooden table. With a deep frown he went to the last room that they usually used to take a rest. As he moved the burgundy curtain out of the way, a small smile spread across his face at the sight of you laying on the chestnut couch, eyes closed, breathing even whilst Fabian laid across your chest, his thumb comfortably tucked in his mouth to soothe himself into sleep.

Fred couldn't stop his movements as he shuffled closer and crouched beside the couch. Tilting his head, he watched you peacefully sleep with his beloved son on your chest as though you had a connection from the very first moment, you'd met him. He lifted a hand to brush a tiny lock of hair from your face as a soft smile spread across his lips. You slightly scrunched up your nose and sniffled at the unexpected touch, earning a silent laughter from Fred.

He didn't let out a sound, but his presence still woke you. After a couple of heavy blinks, you focused your gaze on Fred, a warm smile painted across his face. "Hey," you whispered in a hoarse tone, sleep still evident in your voice.

"Hey," he said as his lips curved wider. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he continued in a hushed tone, his gaze moving from you to Fabian.

"It's fine," shaking your head, you attempted to get up, but you quickly halted your movements as Fabian stirred in your arms. Fred just chuckled as he picked up his son and waited for you to sit up as he took the space beside you with his son soundly asleep in his arms, head tucked against the curve of his shoulder.

"He sleeps like a bear, so you don't have to worry," he said as he sunk deeper in the couch.

"I hope you know how lucky you are. You have a brilliant kid," you said with a soft smile.

"I know," Fred hinted a tiny kiss on Fabian's temple before turning back to you, his eyes shining with pride. "He is a handful sometimes, but I guess it's in our blood," he smirked.

"It definitely is. Now at least you know what poor Molly had been through," you giggled as he nodded with a playful grimace.

"And I only have one, imagine seven. I don't think we give enough credit to mom," he shook his head as he chuckled.

"You know you've changed a lot," you added.

"Have I? In what sense?" He arched a questioning brow.

"Well, it's only been what— six years since we graduated, and you have your own family and a business. You grew up to be a man, Mr. Weasley," you smiled as you bit on your bottom lip.

"I didn't really have a choice," he smirked, trying to play it off, though it certainly wasn't easy, even with all the help he had from his family and even if you were oblivious, it was easy for you to understand it from the gaze he rested on you.

"Why? Of course, if you don't mind me asking," you said, not wanting to pray into his life.

"I was still very young when Fabian was born and the relationship I was in was on and off for a year, even as she was pregnant. We just fought a lot, which I have to say was my fault, so I ended it. I took Fabian since his mother wanted to enjoy her life and I guess I had to grow up," he shrugged, but quickly halted his movements as Fabian stirred.

"Have you thought about contacting her now? Maybe she would want to come back?" You asked, tilting your head curiously, but Fred shook his head.

"No, I never loved her. That's why we broke up. I was still in love with the girl I fell for in Hogwarts," he chuckled, but your smile disappeared which Fred quickly noted.

"I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have attacked you with all these questions," you shook your head, gaze falling to the ground, clearly feeling embarrassed. Fred reached for your hand and cupped it in his palm, squeezing it reassuringly.

"It's okay. It's been a long time since we have talked. I'm curious too, you know?" He offered you a playful grin as you lifted your head once again. "We graduated and you just left. No letter, no words, no good-byes. Honestly, I felt a bit betrayed," he let out a comical scoff.

"I'm sorry," you shook your head. "I had the opportunity to travel, and I just packed up and went for it."

"But why without a word?" He frowned as he studied your face.

"I— I had my reasons," you picked at your nails as you tried to avoid the question. Though Fred was eager to know what happened, he didn't want to push you.

"Well, I'm glad you are back," he replied with a soft smile. "That is if you are back," he chuckled awkwardly.

"Yes, I am planning to stay now," you replied as you lifted your head, a light smile spreading across your face. There was a momentary silence as you gazed at each other, but you had to speak, that's what you came for after all. "I— you know I— oh just forget it," you giggled awkwardly, stopping yourself from saying whatever you wished to.

"What is it? Now you made me curious," he grinned at you with curiosity shining in his chestnut eyes. There was hesitation in you as you played with your hands in your lap, but at least you decided to speak up.

"I— I came back for a reason—," however before you could have continued, Fabian stirred in Fred's arms, calling for his dad. A heavy, relieved sight left your lungs.

"I'm here, good morning," he chuckled as he hinted a small kiss on his son's temple, but his eyes shot back to you immediately. "What was it you wanted to say? What reason?" He asked, not missing a word you said.

"Oh, it's nothing, I better go anyways. I have to go and check out some flats," you chuckled, but Fred didn't miss the strain in your voice, the obviously phony tone behind your laughter as you stood up. He didn't care if you could read his facial expression, he frowned regardless.

"You wanted to say something," he said. He knew it was something important, he could feel it in his bones as silly as the thought seemed.

"It's not actually. It really isn't," you shook your head defensively and scrunched your nose, a sign he had learned all those years ago still carved in his memory. You were lying. It was important and you were struggling against your own self not to tell him what you came for. "I'm just gonna go now. I'm sure we will run into each other later. Take care," you said with a smile that Fred could swear held some sort of pain.

Fred stood up from the couch, but you were already hurrying out of the shop and by the time he was at the counter, you were across the street, as though you were running away, escaping from him.

"George, can you please pay attention to Fabian for a second?" He asked his brother, though his eyes still followed you. Without a reply George took Fabian from Fred's arms and pushed on his twins' shoulder as though he could read his mind. He received a nod, but not a thank you or a reply, before Fred was dashing out of the shop, following you down the rather empty alley. He tried calling your name, he knew you heard him, he just knew, but you didn't turn around. He sped up his steps along the cobblestones grabbing your arm with a gentle force as he reached you. "Why are you running?" He asked, heaving heavy breaths.

"I'm not," you scoffed, but you didn't meet his eyes, though your gaze wandered around your surroundings. He placed his palms against your cheeks, not missing as you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes just a tad longer to bask in the moment.

"But you are. I know you. I know you were trying to tell me something important before you left. I knew all the little signs back in school and I still know the way you scrunch your nose when you are lying or how your eyes wander around awkwardly when you are afraid of looking at someone, not wanting to expose yourself," he couldn't miss the fear in your eyes, though he couldn't understand. "You might have changed, but a part of you is still the girl I fell in love with, and your tell-tale signs haven't changed a bit," he shook his head, his own words not registering. Your eyes widened, lips parting in surprise and once Fred processed the words he uttered, he mirrored your expression, air stuck in his lungs.

"You loved me?" Uncertainty laced your voice. Fred silenced himself for a moment, weighing his options, as his heart thundered under his ribcage. But at last, he spoke up.

"I have," he replied.

"Have?" You asked just as Fred hoped you'd catch on his wording. He nodded, but he couldn't form another word. He came after you to talk to you, but he didn't anticipate confessing his own feelings and as he stood in front of you, feelings laid out to you, he found himself paralysed.

"I didn't know. I thought— I thought you just flirted with me for the fun of it," you shook your head which Fred only mirrored.

"I ran after you like a hopeless puppy, but you'd told me so many times that you'd never date someone like me. I couldn't dare confess and ruin our friendship," words spilled out of Fred without a warning, and he couldn't stop himself. "But then you left, and I regretted not telling you how I felt. It would have been better to just let it all out and wait for your rejection than shoving it to the back of my mind and hoping it would just vanish. It never has," a heavy sigh left his lungs, his hands still cupping your face, but you stood in front of him wordlessly, staring up at him like a deer against the flashlight. "Say something, please," his pleading tone finally woke you from your trance and before he had the time to realise the vanishing gap, your lips pressed against his with the weight of over seven years' worth of heavily hidden feelings. Fred didn't need another moment to process what was happening, his arms already sneaked around your waist as you locked your own behind his neck. He kissed you back as though his life depended on your sole kiss, as though you were his air and without you, he was unable to survive. But you took the attack with the heart of a warrior, basking in his desperate attempt to make up for all those lost years, urgently needing you in his arms.

Panting for breath you finally parted, though Fred didn't let you go as he pressed his brows against you. "Woah—," he breathed, unable to create a coherent sentence just yet. A silent giggle left your lungs as you watched his blushing cheeks.

"I really never thought you liked me. Fred, I left because I was so stupidly in love with you that I couldn't handle seeing you with someone else," you confessed finally, your words making him frown.

"Why would you have seen me with someone else? I only had eyes for you," he said.

"I saw you flirting repeatedly, always with someone else, and I didn't want to see it. I couldn't watch it and I couldn't just stay your friend. I thought if I left it would help me get over these stupid feelings, but I clearly couldn't," you scoffed.

"But in our seventh year I did nothing but ran after you. I was stupidly desperate," he grimaced at the memory of his last year, running after you like a silly dog.

"I didn't realise, I could still vividly recall each and every girl you openly flirted with," you said.

"I'm so sorry," a heavy sigh left Fred's lungs.

"Don't apologise, please. After all these years, I came back because I thought I'd just put an end to this, tell you how I felt and get over these stupid feelings. But if you tell me that you still love me, how am I supposed to get over you?" a silent chuckle left your lungs.

"That's the beauty of it. You aren't," a playful grin appeared across his face. "Don't you dare– even for a second– think that I'll let you go now," he shook his head. "You made the mistake of coming back and I'm planning on making up for all those years," he didn't need your agreement, the silver lining of tears welling in your eyes and the soft smile across your face said it all. He lifted your chin and pulled you closer, closing the gap between you, this time kissing you slowly, savouring each moment his lips finally spent devouring yours. "Shoot," Fred interrupted the kiss, just as stunned as you were. "I have to go back, I left Fabian with George. It's never a good idea," he explained, earning a loud laugh from you, that sweet voice he'd been craving for so long.

Fred grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers without hesitation, before you headed back to the shop, to find Fabian hanging upside down in George's hands. "Look daddy, the shop is upside down," a comical scoff left Fred's lips, before he walked closer to his son and took him from George, shaking his head at his twin as he saw his son's heavily pink cheeks.

"Not anymore," he replied, but before he could have spoken again, Fabian interrupted.

"So, is she my new mommy then?" The little boy asked with the same mischievous grin his father wore as the question left his tiny lips.

"Erm— why don't we discuss that later?" He asked as he walked up to you and wrapped his arm around your waist whilst placing a kiss on your temple.

"She is definitely my new mommy," Fabian said as he looked at George, heavy laughter erupting from all three of you.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

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Taglists are in reblog from now on.

George Weasley didn't think his twin could have a chance with Draco Malfoy's older sister, but Hermione and Angelina encourage Fred to ask Y/n out.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x malfoy!reader

The reader pronouns: she/her

Words count: 1.4k

Warnings: out of character Fred, not proofread

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Slytherin sunshine

They say love makes people blind. Blind to what, exactly? To the love interest's flaws? Or to the world around you to the point where you sometimes can't keep up with what's happening around? The second one in Fred Weasley's case.

To the boy's misfortune, love could surprise him in the most inconvenient moments. In fact, love was what made those moments inconvenient, awkward.

It was really amusing to Fred's twin brother and friend. The both of them couldn't suppress the urge to laugh when they saw him trip over his own feet. Why? Simply, because Fred's eyes were fixated on a particular girl.

"Mate, I swear you could not notice and fall off of a cliff because of that Malfoy girl," Lee said, helping Fred get up from the ground.

George didn't help. Instead he laughed, "He would straight jump off of a cliff if she only asked him to."

The three friends stood silently for a few seconds, looking at the girl. She was sitting on a windowsill nearby, surrounded by a few of her friends.

Y/n Malfoy didn't quite fit a stereotypical description of a Slytherin student. She never talked to Fred outside of class, he barely knew her, but he noticed how kind she is to people around her. She liked to help younger students find way to certain classes, she liked to help her friends with their homeworks. She laughed a lot, she had a beautiful smile. She was too much of a sunshine to be a Slytherin.

Y/n was friends with two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw. There wasn't a single Gryffindor in her friend cycle, but that was probably because Gryffindors never trusted Slytherins. Even if Y/n seemed like an embodiment of a ray of sunshine, it could all be a facade to trick enemies, right?

"She smiled at me though," Fred beamed.

"She smiled at what her friend said," George put his hand on his twin's back, "as much as I love and support you, I don't think you have a chance."

"Yeah," Lee added, "I don't think she would choose a random Gryffindor over a bloke she's been friends with for the past 4 or 5 years."

Fred opened his mouth, but didn't talk. Then a thought passed his mind, "If she was going to date him, she would have done it a while ago. They've been friends for ages."

The next lesson was getting closer, so Y/n got off of the windowsill. She and her friends got going to the next class, they had to part ways. Y/n hugged each of her friends and got on the way to Potions classroom.

The girl walked past the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan, in fact they had Potions together. She looked at Fred and smiled, gaining a smile back from the boy.

Just a second after she walked by, Fred got his both sides nudged by George and Lee.

"We should get going too, you know?" George said. "We have Potions now."

"Oh, Potions!" Lee exclaimed. "Our Freddie will have some time to stare at his girlfriend!"

Fred chuckled, "She's not my girlfriend." Not yet, at least, he added in his thoughts.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"I can't believe you fancy Malfoy's sister!" Ron's voice sounded a bit too loud through the Gryffindor common room. He caught everyone's attention, but nobody seemed to be surprised. Did they all know already? Was it that obvious?

"I didn't choose to fancy her, okay?" Fred argued. "It's love, it happens!"

It happens, that's exactly what love does. It happens and you don't even notice, then one day you realize you've fallen hard.

"She isn't that bad," Hermione chimed in, "I hung out with her in the library a few times, she's nice actually."

"As nice as Draco?" Ron scoffed.

Hermione sighed and decided not to pay attention to Ron's comment. "So when are you going to ask her on a date?"

"Well...someday. For sure." Fred replied shortly.

Asking Y/n on a date was on the list of things Fred was going to do, definitely. He thought about it many times, he made up scenarios in his head before falling asleep. The problem was, until that moment he didn't realize it will actually have to happen. Fred saw it happening in the future, but didn't pick a particular day, particular moment.

"Don't tell me you're not going to do it. You didn't have a problem with asking Angelina to the Yule Ball last year."

"Angie is just a friend and Y/n is...she's something more, no offense," Fred gave an apologizing look to Angelina.

"No problem," the black haired girl joined the conversation, "personally, I think you should ask her out as soon as possible. I support you in it even if she's a Malfoy."

Fred looked at her a bit confused. "What do you mean by as soon as possible? Why?"

"Because there's been a rumor that Adrian Pucey has a thing for her as well..."

And that was when Fred decided. The day was coming to an end, so asking Y/n out would be the first thing he does in the morning.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

She was there. She was in the Great Hall, eating breakfast, not knowing she's about to get asked out.

When was the right moment to do it? Fred couldn't just chime in while she's eating, that could be awkward. He could wait until she's done, but it made him look a bit creepy.

"At some point, this can be marked as stalking," George laughed, patting his twin on the back.

"Has anyone else noticed?"

"Uhhh, probably? You're sitting here, not even touching any food, your eyes glued to that one girl. Totally not suspicious."

However, Fred couldn't engage more into that conversation. His eyes caught Y/n standing up from the table, so he did the same. George and Lee were saying something, joking about the situation, but Fred didn't pay attention to their words.

The way from the table to the door of the Great Hall seemed to last kilometers in the boy's head. Thousands of scenarios ran through his mind, some with good and some with bad outcomes. He would never know, if he didn't do what he was supposed to do, so he didn't wait anymore.

"Hey, Y/n, I want to talk to you." Fred said, stopping the girl by the huge door. "Like, alone."

Y/n blinked a few times, processing his words. Then she looked at her friends and told them she'll meet them later.

Y/n recognized Fred, him and his twin brother were the biggest troublemakers in Hogwarts. The girl found their pranks very amusing, even those they pulled on her younger brother and his group of friends.

"What is it?" She asked.

Fred walked Y/n further from the door of the Great Hall. He wouldn't mind if someone heard that, even if he was going to get rejected, he just didn't want to block the door.

"The thing is...you probably don't know me, but I, but-" the boy stuttered, he couldn't find the right words. He used to have a plan in his mind, but he forgot it. Fred had to improvise, "I like you. I know, I know what you think, it's probably weird because we don't know each other, but I like you, I-"

"Fred," the girl giggled, "I know you, we have some classes together. Not to mention you and your twin pull the best pranks."

"Oh, you know my name."

Fred scolded himself in his mind. Why was he acting like that? Y/n made him feel so anxious, stressed. Fred wasn't acting like himself.

"Yes, I know your name. Honestly, I didn't think you'd like me, I'm a Slytherin and you're a Gryffindor. You know how it is."

"Yes, yes I know. That's why I wanted to ask you about something, but I wasn't sure about it. I was just wondering if...I mean, that's okay if you say no, but do you...would you..."

Y/n smiled at how silly the situation was. She made sure to make this smile look friendly and genuine, not mocking.

"Do you want to go on a date?" She asked before Fred managed to stutter out the rest of whatever he was going to say.

"Me?" Fred questioned. "I mean, yeah, yes, totally."

"Great. See you right here at 4 pm?"

"Yes, that would be great. See you."

"Alright, have a nice day until then."

Y/n gently placed a kiss on Fred's cheek. Then she walked away, leaving the boy speechless. His heart was beating so fast and he was sure his face is all red. If George and Lee hadn't appeared next to him and shook Fred out of the trance, he would stood there probably until 4 pm.

Locked Away. | G.W.

summary: dating george is her biggest secret, one she hopes her family never finds out.

word count: 2207

warnings: mentions of weight loss from traumatic situation

notes: finally rewrote this. just want to let you guys know that i am working on requests and turning the blurbs into fics. hoping to get them posted this week! i had a few exams last week so i didn't have too much time to write :)

Dating George Weasley had been her biggest secret. One she intended to keep to herself. She had a plan. She was moving out at the end of the month, once George and Fred had finished setting up their shop and moving into their place. She was looking for a place of her own, not wanting to intrude on Fred. George had insisted that Fred was fine with it. He was more than happy to have his brother’s girlfriend move in. Fred really didn’t mind. He knew the situation. He knew what could happen if her family found out whilst she was living under their roof. He was fine with her living with them, she was part of the family. But her secret wasn’t only hers to keep. Draco had found out one night at the end of her final term. He swore he wouldn’t tell, but she didn’t trust him. He was twisted with the same mindset that her parents shared. One of blood traitors and mudbloods. She knew it was only a matter of time before he told his father, but she was hoping that she would be long gone before he let her secret slip. Unfortunately, she wasn’t. Once her parents had found out, they ranted and raved. To say they were livid was an understatement. 

“A Weasley?!” Her mother had screamed, disgust evident on her facial features. Her eyes welled with tears as she took in her mother’s hateful gaze. She knew they had just labelled her as a blood traitor for even associating with the Weasley family. And to date one? There was no coming back from that in her parents eyes. She knew it in her heart, she could see it in their faces. She was as good as dead to them. She tried to blink back her tears, but her father started to yell. She flinched at his tone, terror blooming in her bones as he glared at her. “You would associate our family name with those blood traitors?! How dare you!” His words hit her where it hurt. She loved George with everything she had. Her family name meant nothing to her, but she couldn’t tell her father that. It had been bad enough when she had been sorted into Ravenclaw. The first in her family to not be sorted into Slytherin. She knew her parent’s disdain for her had grown with each passing year. The more she was outside of their way of thinking, the more she blossomed into the person she always wanted to be. She never shared how she felt or thought with her parents, but they knew. They hated the person she had made herself, hated that she didn’t care about blood status or wealth. She was everything they were not, everything her family was not. “Daddy! I love him!” She shouted back as her tears finally spilt over. She couldn’t hold them back, not as her father screamed at her. She had heard it a million times. That she was a disappointment to their family and everything it stood for. But the venom behind his words hurt more than ever this time. The way he spoke of George shattered her heart. He was such a great man, so kind, so willing to give even when he had nothing to share. Her father tensed up, his face swallowed by rage. He took a moment to settle himself, a cold smile settling over his lips. “You’re going away, far away.” Her father spoke in a contemptuous voice. She had never felt more fear in her life. She knew nothing good would come from this. This would be her punishment. -

Her days had been hell. She had been locked away with her aunt, Bellatrix. She spent her days avoiding the evil woman, barely eating what she was given (she did not trust Bellatrix Lestrange), and her nights were spent crying. She was rarely alone in the house, someone was always there. She kept to her room, avoiding contact with anyone in the house. Her health had declined, she looked visibly ill. She was sure she had lost a massive amount of weight, none of her clothes fit her right. Living in this hell seemed to be the easiest part to handle. She was suffering from the hardest and most avoidable heartbreak of her life. She longed for George. She longed to hear him laugh, to see his red hair in the sunlight, just to even see his handwriting on a piece of parchment. She only had her memories and the bracelet he had given her for their anniversary last year. She never took it off, it looked like a normal piece of jewellery. A slim gold cuff that held their secret love. She only took it off at night so she could look at the engraving on the inside. ‘I love you’ in his handwriting adorned the inside of the cuff. It was the only piece of him she had left. She couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Did he think that she just left him? That she decided it was too much to keep this secret? Or did he think the worst. 

- She had sent an owl to George a week ago, telling him not to respond, but to meet her where they first met on the 4th of October. The task of sending an owl had not been easy. She had carefully planned it for weeks. She had started to leave her room, to play the game of being who her family had wanted her to be. That’s when Bellatrix started to pop out for quick errands. She was never gone for more than thirty minutes at a time, so she knew she had to be quick. She knew that she would have no way of knowing if George received the owl, but it was her only shot. Even if he didn’t she had formulated a back-up plan. She would travel to the burrow, she knew Molly would be there and wouldn’t turn her away. She kept playing the game until the day finally came. She was terrified that Bellatrix would somehow figure out what she had done. She lived in fear of retaliation for three weeks. She knew today had to be the day. Bellatrix left for the longest time on the 4th of every month. She wasn’t sure what her aunt did, but she knew she would be gone for at least an hour. She knew if she timed everything right, not even the house elves would see her make her escape. Her heart pounded as she waited for Bellatrix to leave. She shut her eyes tightly, waiting to hear the door shut. She grabbed the bag of floo powder and ran down to the fireplace when she was sure the coast was clear. She threw the powder down as she stated her desired location.

She looked around, hoping to spot a head of red hair. She trembled in the cold air, looking around for any sign of George. Her lip trembled when she realised he either didn’t get her owl or chose not to show. But he would’ve shown, right? Her George wouldn’t give up on her that easily. She brushed her fingers through her hair, knowing she had to keep moving. She didn’t feel safe just waiting around. She was sure she only had thirty minutes before Bellatrix would return and realise that she was missing. She quickly found herself to be lost in the hectic mess of Diagon Alley. She had forgotten how busy it would be here. She kept her head down, moving to her next destination. She tried her best to avoid bumping into anyone or drawing any attention to herself. But that’s when she saw it, the beginnings of a joke shop, a new joke shop bearing the Weasley name. She made her way towards the building, pushing the door open and walking inside. 

“Oh, we’re not ope- (y/n)?” Fred spoke as he turned to see who had walked in. She nodded her head, looking around at the place. Fred seemed to lose his voice as he took in his brother’s girlfriend. She looked sick, he had never seen her this thin. “George.” He spoke, realising that his words came out much quieter than he intended. She met Fred’s eyes. He could see the dark circles under her eyes and the gaunt look to her face. He noticed the tears brimming her eyes. She took in a shaky breath, breaking her gaze to look around the shop again. She was amazed at everything. Her heart ached at the fact that she wasn’t here with him, the both of them, like she said she would be. She had planned to help them get everything set and ready for the day that they finally opened, but she had been away for months. 

“George!” Fred, this time, shouted. The sound shocked her. Fred cringed as he watched her coil into herself from the sound of him shouting. That’s when Fred realised that something had happened to her. He turned, quickly making his way up the stairs to catch George before he descended. “George, did that owl say anything at all?” He asked as he barred his twin from descending. “Just to meet her, but she wasn’t there. Why?” George gave Fred an odd look as his brows furrowed. “She’s here, Georgie. And she’s not well. Something happened to her.” Fred kept his voice low, hoping she couldn’t hear them. George gave him a small nod before they both made their way down to the shop floor. George did his best to hide his immediate reaction to the state she was in. His heart melted as he watched her face light up when she saw him. A smile spread across her face and then she was moving, running towards him. When she reached him, she jumped. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, clinging to him. 

“Oh I’ve missed you.” George murmured into her hair. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her against him tightly. His other hand came up to tangle his fingers in her hair. He pressed his cheek against her head, eyes falling shut as he enjoyed having her in his arms again. It took a moment for George to realise that she was crying. The tears had been silently rolling down her cheeks as she buried her face into his shoulder, but the soft sob that racked her body gave her away. George didn’t say anything to her, just held her tighter. “Fred, I’m going to take the rest of the day off, if you don’t mind?” He asked his twin, only to receive a nod. -

She had been living with George and Fred above the joke shop since the day she had arrived two months ago. She felt like she was living in fear. She hardly ever left the apartment, not wanting to venture out and potentially run into her family. She was surprised that they hadn’t shown up here. It would seem obvious that this is where she would go. Perhaps they had given up on her, and she was more than okay with that. How could she not be after what they did to her? Sending her to live in her own personal Azkaban. George had found her curled up in his bed that morning, gently shaking her awake. She looked at him with tired eyes, pulling the blankets up until only her eyes were visible. He gave her a small smile, he loved how much she hated getting up. He knew she would always prefer a warm bed until mid-afternoon if she had it her way. 

“Mornin’.” She mumbled, closing her eyes as she rubbed them. She let out a yawn, pushing the blanket down a bit. A gasp left her when she focused her attention on George. There he was, down on one knee, next to the bed. She quickly scrambled to the edge of the bed, reaching for George. “What are you doing?” She asked as she took his face in both her hands. “This isn’t how I really wanted to do this, but I don’t think I could wait any longer.” He said, staring up at her. She could see the nervous smile as he reached into his pocket to pull out a ring. “Merlin! George!” Her hands moved to his, she could feel the tears welling in her eyes. 

“Would you do me the honour of becoming Mrs. Weasley?” He asked, smiling as he watched the emotions flicker through her eyes. “Yes, George, of course.” She quickly stammered out, realising she had been staring for a tad too long when she saw a small look of anxiety on his face. He took her left hand, gently sliding the ring onto her finger. She studied the ring as he slid it on. It looked like it had cost a fortune. The diamond was surrounded by a ring of small rubies and sapphires. She kissed him gently, wrapping her arms around him. He picked her up in a tight hug. She wrapped her legs around his waist, nuzzling her face into his neck.

The One

pairing - fred weasley x fem!reader

a/n - this was so self-indulgent omg, I had a blast writing this. written for this request, I hope it's what you had in mind :)

warnings/tags - soulmate au, kinda oblivious reader

wordcount - 3.6k

“Someone out there is definitely destined for you. That’s how it works,” Angeline tried to assure you, placing a gentle hand on your arm.

Poking around your plate, your appetite having left you the moment soulmates were brought up in conversation, you huffed in disbelief. “But what if it doesn’t work for me? What if my soulmate ends up living on the other side of the world and I never meet them? Or if they find out who I am and decide they don’t want me? Maybe fate matched me with the wrong person!”

Angelina’s brown eyes glanced up at the enchanted ceiling as she rubbed her temples, tired of her best friend’s constant doubts on the topic. She understood you were anxious about it. Ever since she had met you at the start of your first year, you had been obsessed with the idea of soulmates, dreaming of the day you turned sixteen and would finally be able to find your special person.

But being one of the youngest in your year meant that you got to watch all of your friends experience this before you. The more the students around you started falling in love, going on dates and professing their undying love for each other, the more your confidence began lacking.

“These things almost never happen,” Angelina focused back on you. “Listen, you only have to wait for a couple more hours! You birthday is tomorrow and by then you’ll know everything worked out perfectly fine and I will get to say ‘I told you so’.”

The fork pushing around your vegetables was now stabbing at the potatoes slightly more aggressively. “Not everyone can be as lucky as you two.”

Angelina drew back when you pointed the fork at her, afraid you might actually take out her eye judging by the mood you had been in all day. George, your other best friend, carefully reached out to push down your hand holding the improvised weapon, not happy about it being so close to his girlfriend’s face.

The two of them had been together even before they turned sixteen, and lucky them soon discovered that they were in fact meant to be with each other two months ago on Angelina’s birthday. Ever since then, they had been acting insufferably cute and often left you alone with Fred, which was the only thing you were actually kind of upset about.

“Well, if worse comes to worst, there’s always Fred,” George offered with a grin and you did not appreciate his teasing tone, as opposed to your dark-haired friend, who did not even try to hide her laughter at the thought of you and Fred together.

George’s twin brother was the most annoying boy you had ever had the displeasure of meeting. Since he met you on your first day of classes, it had become his favourite past-time to bother you. Most of his pranks seemed to be aimed at you, he always had a stupid comment ready to throw your way and he apparently made it his life’s purpose to embarrass you every chance he got.

Unfortunately, being close with George also meant he was around all of the time. And being the good friend you are, you tried playing nice with him for the longest time, afraid to lose your friendship with George otherwise. But now in your sixth year, it was taking all of your might not to strangle him the moment his mouth opened.

What made it even more infuriating was that he was easily the most handsome guy at school and he was well aware of that. Sometimes your traitorous little heart went against all of the rules your brain had set and started beating faster when he sent you a smirk or when he called you one of his dumb nicknames.

The boy in question perked up at the mention of his name, one of those aggravating smirks now looking your way. You tried to ignore the way a strand of his red hair tumbled onto his forehead in a perfect curl, deciding that it was actually not cute at all.

“I wouldn’t mind being your consolation price,” he joked, sending you a wink.

You held back a groan, instead mustering up a sickly-sweet smile. “I’d rather die a painful and lonely death.”

Pushing a hand to his chest over his heart, he pretended to be offended. “You don’t mean that. I bet you’d love to get a piece of this.”

“I’m about to shred you to pieces if you don’t leave me alone,” you told him flatly, the smile falling off your face.

Fred leaned across the table to crowd into your personal space, his eyes sparking with mischief and one of his brows raised mockingly. “Oh, please do. I’d like to see you try.”

Oliver Wood groaned out from where he was sitting on your right side, already tired of your bickering. “Just get a room you two and let the rest of us have some peace for once.”

The reply you had prepared died in your throat at the seventh-year’s remark, a blush taking over your face as you dropped your gaze to resume abusing your food. Out of the corner of your eyes you caught him still watching you, which only led your face to heat up even more.

ੈ♡˳

The moment the clock struck midnight you uncapped your pen. The other girls in your dorm were probably trying to fall asleep, so you had fixed the curtain around your bed, the only light coming from the tip of your wand on the sheets next to you.

You had been thinking about this moment for so long but suddenly you couldn’t think of anything clever or cute enough to make a good first impression. Your breath caught in your throat when the skin above your wrist began to tingle.

Watching in anticipation as the black scribbles appeared in messy handwriting, you could not supress the smile taking over your face. You had a soulmate! And they reached out to you first! You ran a gently finger over the letters, simply spelling ‘hello?’.

Not giving yourself time to doubt yourself and let your nerves rise even higher, you quickly scribbled a hello back. When your skin started tingling again, you were sure you would never get used of the comforting feeling.

‘Happy Birthday, love.’

Growing flustered at the nickname, you tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you thought about what question to ask first. The excitement took over in the end and pushed out your leg to have more room to write all of them down. You wanted to find out everything there was to know about this person that was apparently made to be your other half.

‘How old are you? Where do you live? Do you have any pets? What’s your favourite colour? Ugh! Just tell me about yourself!’

Slightly embarrassed you ended it with a smiley face. It took a moment until the reply appeared just above your knee.

‘I’m not going to spill all my secrets right away, now what would be the fun in that?’

ੈ♡˳

It was on. If your soulmate wanted to make a game out of this you were more than happy to play. The list of possible subjects was already shortened quite a bit after you convinced them to give you some hints.

‘I’m in your year. I’m a guy. And you’ve talked to me before.’

The words still remaining on your thigh did not give you much to go off, but they at least helped to exclude any girls, guy’s older and younger than you and most Slytherins from your list.

Cedric Diggory was your first subject. Angelina had mentioned he had been glancing over at you all throughout classes that morning. You’d be happy if he was the one, knowing how kind and understanding he was, but you could not help the anxiety rising up in you.

He was definitely way out of your league, being the quidditch captain of the Hufflepuff team and pretty much the most popular guy in school. There was just no way he could ever like you as more than a friend.

Crouching behind one of the tall bookshelves in the library to sneakily keep an eye on him, you felt kind of dramatic. He would probably run for the hills if he saw you borderline stalking him right now. But moving along with your plan, you pulled out your pen and managed to draw a wonky star on your wrist with shaky hands.

Letting out a defeated huff when he suddenly moved his arm beneath the table and out of your sight, you did not hear the footsteps coming up behind you, jumping in fright when a puff of air hit your neck.

“Who are we looking at?” Fred whispered with squinted eyes as he peered around you, his face far to close to your own.

He knew damn well who you were looking at because he had been there when Ange and you talked after your potions lesson. What you were wondering was why he was here looking at Cedric with you, guessing that any involvement on his part would result in you making a fool of yourself.

“Go away, Fred. I’m busy.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement. “Why so grumpy, toots? Turns out Diggory isn’t the one after all? I already told you that.”

You quickly shushed him, elbowing his side and hiding back behind the shelf. “You’re too loud! He’s going to see us. And I don’t know yet, I can’t see from here.”

His gaze dropped down to your hand, noticing the ink on your skin. “Well, that can be fixed.”

You were about to question what he was talking about, when he lazily made his way over to the table Cedric was sitting at. Without saying a word, he grabbed the blonde’s arm, holding it up for you to see.

With a shrug of his shoulders, he shook his head. “It’s not him,” he called out to where you were covering your flushing face, already retreating out of the library with quick steps. Ignoring the confused looks the other students were sending him, he rushed to follow after you, catching up easily. Damn his long legs.

“So, who’s next?”

You whirled around to face him, almost causing him to run into you. “That’s none of your business, Weasley! Leave me alone, I really don’t have the patience to get made fun of by you today.”

He took a surprised step back at the anger flashing across your face. “Come on, please let me help. George is with Ange and Lee is stuck in detention all week, I don’t have anyone else to hang out with.”

“That sucks for you,” you rolled your eyes and started walking again, not even surprised when he fell into step besides you.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I really want to help.”

“Well, that wasn’t helping. That was embarrassing,” you told him in a firm voice.

His hands fell onto your shoulders to stop you once more, turning you to face him. One of his fingers reached up to rub the frown off your face, only causing your glare to intensify. “I promise from now on I’ll only make a fool of myself and not you. But I think you’ll find him a lot faster if you let me help. In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t care about people looking at me weird. I can just go up to them and check for you.”

You though about his offer for a moment. He did have a point. You were way to shy to just go up and straight up ask anyone and you had no one else to help. Angelina had already tried to convince you to let it go, saying that he would reveal himself eventually. And George was not going to help if it meant getting on his girlfriend’s bad side.

“Okay,” you finally caved, having to supress the smile threatening to take over your face at the way his eyes brightened up. “But we do it my way. One wrong move on your part and you’re kicked off the team.”

“Aye aye, captain!”

This time when you rolled your eyes there was no malice behind it. Without anything else to go off today there was no other person to investigate, so the two of you decided to make a list with all remaining suspects, trying to figure out what kind of hint you should ask for tonight.

“Why are Lee and I not on the list?” he questioned when you finished writing down the last name.

Your nose crinkled in confusion. “Because you already know who your soulmates are. I see Lee chatting with his during class all the time. His arms are basically always covered.”

When you looked up from the parchment he was leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You quickly averted your eyes from his lips when you noticed him staring back at you.

“What makes you think I know mine?”

“You said so,” you huffed, remembering one more name to add. He just raised his eyebrows in question. “The day before your birthday. You told George that you already knew who it was going to be.”

A nervous look took over his face at your words and he uncrossed his arms to lean on the table. “I didn’t know you overheard that. I just said that I knew who I hoped it would be.”

“Oh, I guess I heard wrong,” you said with a grimace. “But it would be crazy anyways, right? You being my soulmate? There’s no way.”

“Yeah, that would be crazy,” he mumbled and you tried deciphering the weird look on his face. He quickly noticed your mustering stare. “Why is this so important to you anyways?”

“I’m not sure really, I just know I’ve been dreaming about it ever since I was little,” you prayed your cheeks would keep their cool and not turn red again as you talked. “I always imagined it to be the way it was with Ange and George, though. That I just know right away when I meet the person. But I’m starting to feel a little dumb about it. Obviously my soulmate knows who I am and has no interest to show me who he is. He’s probably upset that it’s me.”

“That’s bullshit,” Fred let out a laugh. “The bloke’s probably intimidated and nervous that you won’t be into him.”

“I’m not intimidating,” you scoffed, scrunching up your face.

He leaned closer to you again with a smirk. “As someone who has been on the receiving end of your rage, trust me, you can be quite intimidating.”

ੈ♡˳

The next few days were spent investigating. You soulmate gave you another hint after that first day, telling you that he was tall. Immediately your mind went to Ruben Belmont, a Hufflepuff and the tallest boy in your year.

Fred turned out to be a lot of help, easily distracting the Hufflepuff with a well-timed firecracker thrown at his feet during charms, providing the distraction you needed to swipe a piece of parchment from his bag to compare his handwriting to the one on your skin.

Today’s suspect, much to Fred’s disappointment, was Cormac McLaggen. The last hint you had received was that your soulmate was a quidditch player.

“McLaggen’s not even really on the team. He’s just an alternate,” Fred complained from where he was sitting on your desk in potions.

“Being an alternate makes him part of the team,” you claimed, watching Cormac talk to one of his friends. “I’m not the biggest fan of him either, but he’s tall, plays quidditch and in my year. Also, I’ve talked to him a couple of times before.”

You grabbed your pen and scribbled another smiley face on your arm, mentioning for Fred to go. The redhead rolled his eyes but jumped down from the table to do what he was told. He reached for one of the vials of armadillo-bile and made his way over to the other Gryffindor.

When he was right behind him, he pretended to stumble over his own feet, causing the liquid in the vial to hit the back of Cormac’s cloak. He immediately turned to yell at Fred, nostrils flared in anger as he shrugged out of his cloak, giving you a perfect view of his arms.

If you were honest, you were quite relieved not to find a smiley face there. Fred sauntered back to your table, dropping himself into the chair next to yours. “Sorry, toots. It’s not him either.”

This time the nickname did not bring a glare to your face, instead the butterflies in your stomach decided to act up again. Mentally scolding yourself, you scratched Cormac’s name from the list. You were so close to finding out who your soulmate was, now was not the time to develop a stupid crush on Fred Weasley. You were supposed to hate him, for Merlin’s sake!

ੈ♡˳

A week after your birthday, you were ready to give up on your search. Obviously your soulmate did not want you to know and you were done chasing after him, listening to Angelina’s advice. Fred, however, still enjoyed the little game you were playing, which led you to sneak around him in the common room that morning and rushing out of your shared classes before he had the chance to catch up with you.

He finally found you in the back of the library that night, tucked away between the huge bookshelves working on your herbology assignment.

“I have the feeling you’re avoiding me,” he said when he sat down.

“That’s because I am,” you replied matter-of-factly, not looking up from your work.

His eyebrows shot up. “And why would you do that?”

Shooting him a quick glare, you cleared your throat. “Because you’re annoying.”

“So, you’re back to being grumpy.” He relaxed into his chair, tapping his fingers onto the table. “You don’t want to investigate today? Come on, what hint did you get this time.”

Accepting that he would not leave you alone, you pulled out the list, pushing it towards him. “Only that he has at least one brother. I’m done with this, but I guess you can go and have your fun.”

Fred ignored what you were saying, already scribbling down the hint with another bullet point at the top before scratching out two of the names. “Alright, that means there’s only four more people left. Come on, you can’t give up now.”

He slid the paper back to you and you went to roll your eyes at his persistence when they caught onto something. The messy way he had scrawled the word ‘brother’ looked almost exactly like it did on your arm.

Fred’s face blanched when he noticed what you were staring at, realizing his mistake. At once, you jumped out of your seat, reaching for his arm and pushing up his cloak. Your heart dropped into your stomach when you found his skin covered in your conversation from last night.

“Wait-,” he stuttered out when you shouldered your bag, about to stomp away when he caught your wrist. “Let me explain, please.”

“What’s there to explain? That this was just another one of your pranks? I told you this was important to me!”

He drew back as if you had slapped him across the face, eying the way your fists were clenching at your side.

“It wasn’t a prank! And it’s important to me too! If you just let me explain-“ you cut him off with a humourless laugh.

“Alright, then,” you growled, eyes flashing dangerously. “Go ahead.”

“I swear I was going to tell you. But I had to make sure you didn’t hate me first,” he pleaded, his hold on your wrist loosening as it slid down to your hand. “I didn’t want to mess this up.”

Running a hand through your hair, you let out a sigh, not even having the energy to be mad at him anymore. You just wanted to crawl into your bed and cry yourself to sleep.

He took your other hand in his as well, wide eyes looking up at you from where he was sitting. “Toots, I’ve been waiting for your handwriting to show up on my skin since first year. Please let me make this up to you.”

“What do you mean?” the last of your anger was wiped away with his words, your heartbeat now thrumming in your ears. “You wanted me to be your soulmate? Why didn’t you tell me? And why did you embarrass me all the time?”

He swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving yours. “Listen, I’ve been in love with you ever since you yelled at me for the first time on our first day. I never meant to embarrass you. I just didn’t know how else I was supposed to get your attention.”

“You could have tried being nicer, maybe? Or just told me you had a crush on me,” you mumbled out, letting him pull you closer to stand between his legs.

“But you look so cute when you’re mad,” he teased, his lips already spread into a cheeky grin again now that you weren’t yelling at him anymore.

Your cheeks betrayed you once again, the blush flaring up again and you dropped your gaze, letting your hair fall in front of your face to hide how flustered he made you. “So, what now?”

“Now you’ll hopefully agree to let me take you on a date,” he told you in a soft tone, ears flushed in a deep red as well. “How about this Saturday?”

You pulled your lip between your teeth, trying to cover up your smile. “This better be the best date ever, Weasley.”

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Soul Bound - George Weasley

Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Reader Word Count : 3.1k Warning : Mentions of self harm and blood. Injury. Notes : This story was posted first on my Ao3 account. The old grimoire was wide open for her to read. Truth be told, she never thought she would ever need to open the grimoire. But desperate time calls for desperate measures and that’s certainly what she is right now. I had to make George’s version of the Battle of 7 Potters. I think this might be my favourite angst chapter so far. Let me know what you think!

She takes a deep shaky breath. The small black gem was gleaming, reflecting the light of the candles around her. Dark magic is never to be meddled with, she knows full well of it, but if this could mean an extra protection for him, she’ll do it. Whatever the cost might be.

The old grimoire was wide open for her to read. Being one of the most ancient lineages of purebloods, the family grimoire contains every secretive ritual, spells, and potions her family has ever come across. Now being the sole heiress, the book is finally of her possession. She never thought that the very first thing she’d do from the book would be to cast a binding curse. Truth be told, she never thought she would ever need to open the grimoire. But desperate time calls for desperate measures and that’s certainly what she is right now.

Desperate.

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me! | george weasley x reader

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

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

masterlist

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

————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

"Like what?"

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

You frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?"

Your eyes widened.

The guy from the hotel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, a name you recognised.

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

God, what a process to get yourself a house.

***

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

You hoped, anyway.

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

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

He pointed to the door out the back.

"Just through that door?"

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

"Wand?" you squeaked.

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

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

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

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

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

You thanked her, and hurried into the street.

***

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you buying anything, miss?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Godric's Hollow."

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

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

"Fire away."

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

"Wait- you're a muggle?"

"As everyone apparently keeps saying."

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

"What does it mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grimaced, making him laugh.

"I'm just teasing."

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

George stared at you, "Number?"

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

"By owl."

You blanked.

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

"How do they know where to go?"

"They just do."

You sighed.

***

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

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

"Wow," was all he said.

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

"We look so happy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How do I get a wizarding bank account?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

George watched you in silence.

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

"I didn't say anything about that."

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

"I'm willing to do it."

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

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

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

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

"But-"

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

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

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

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

Your heart stopped.

***

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

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

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

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

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

"What about the other bedrooms?"

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

"How come?"

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

"Not if it's with me."

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

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

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

Nonetheless, you smiled, "Of course."

***

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

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

"Hello," a redhead popped up beside you.

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course, he's out back."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How's moving in going?"

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

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

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

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

"I mean- if you're sure-"

"Of course I'm sure."

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

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

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

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

You smiled at the evidently kind woman.

"And who is this?" she asked.

"This is Y/N."

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

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

You were surprised at his honesty with his mother.

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

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

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

She didn't give you a chance to reply.

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

"Mum-"

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

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

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

"I think she's sweet."

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

You hummed.

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

You frowned, "Why?"

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

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

"I have a big family."

"I know."

"Most of them are quite loud people."

"That's okay."

"They'll ask a lot of questions."

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

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

"Scare me away?"

He nodded.

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

***

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

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

"Hello," you said, almost shyly.

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

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

"Oh, for me?" he said teasingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, they're gorgeous!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was when a small boy tumbled into the room.

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

He was just as red headed as his father.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hummed.

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

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

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

"Are you saying I'm not anymore?"

You shrugged.

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

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

Your gaze moved up the wall.

"That's an interesting clock."

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

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

"Really?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Family.

"Well, thank you."

"Of course."

***

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

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

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

"Really?"

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

"We've been through a lot together."

"Yeah, I expect so."

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm glad too," you smiled.

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

His lips on yours.

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

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

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

"Why don't we?"

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

And he was.

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

"Hey, love."

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

It made heat travel to your ears.

"Hi," you replied shyly.

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

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

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

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

"I told you, anything for you."

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

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

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

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

"I aim to please," you grinned.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Alright, let's go."

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Our kids?" he was grinning.

"Shut up," you mumbled.

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

"A bit too soon, I think."

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

"We were drunk."

"We can get drunk again."

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

"I can move in."

You didn't have anymore rebuttals.

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

You reluctantly nodded.

"Perfect."

***

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

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

"We're married, love."

"Yes, but are we together?"

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

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

"Then there you have it."

"I just don't get why."

"Why what?"

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

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

You felt like you were melting on the spot.

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

"I love you, George," you sighed.

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

"Love at first sight?"

"You would be so lucky."

You let out a childish giggle at that.

"But, yes, I think it was."

——————————————————

masterlist

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

You know what I think would be cute? If one of the 141 were watching Beauty and the Beast with his child and during the scenes where they're bonding and dancing, the child gasps and says, "That's you and Mommy!" And they're all excited because it shows that their parents are truly in love and they just find it adorable 🥰

141 men being all soft and cute dads makes my heart melt omg <33 this is so cute babe :(( 🤍

price: "is that right, honey?" he chuckles softly, an eyebrow raised in amusement. he actually hadn't given much thought to it, he didn't really think children were even for him. but then there you came, tilting his world on its axis. how you managed to fall in love with him, he hadn't the faintest clue. he couldn't ever fathom why you'd choose him but he's so incredibly grateful nonetheless. he didn't know what good thing he had done to receive either one but he counted his blessings every day for it. he holds his little girl in the crook of his arm as they both cuddle close on the sofa, his deep chuckle echoing in the room everytime his little kiddo eagerly pointed out the scene on the tv. his heart was practically swimming in his chest as he cuddles her close pressing gentle kisses all over her cheeks to make her giggle <3

simon: "me an' mama, huh?" he chuckles fondly, his heart fluttering inside his chest. he didn't much care for disney movies but since having his daughter, he'd been forced to watch them all back to back with her. not that he minded so much, he would've done anything to keep that grin on her little face. it makes his heart ache with so much joy when his little girl had said that, after all he grew up in a world of pain. some days, he was so scared of ever accidentally inflicting the same scars his father had left behind on his baby and you. and so it almost makes him teary eyed when his child points out the tenderness between belle and beast to you and him. he was the best dad anyone could ever ask for, it was just taking him a little longer in believing that <3

gaz: "shall we dance then, my love?" he humours them, raising his hand out for them to take. his heart was practically bursting at the seams when his baby pointed it out, he didn't think he could ever have this privilege in his life. and he cherished every single moment with you and his bundle of joy, both of you meaning more to him than life itself. and as the dancing scene takes place with belle and the beast, gaz and his baby also dance along to the music, with the exaggerated hum from gaz just to hear his little one giggle madly. his small girl dancing happily in his arms and gaz wrapping a strong arm around her, keeping her safe and close was a sight he could never tire from <3

soap: "and you're our little teacup, aren't you sunshine?" the scot laughs heartily as he scoops his baby in his warm arm, blowing soft raspberries on their stomach. johnny really didn't think he would ever be in this beautiful position of finally being a dad to his baby, a baby that you had gifted him. everyday he makes sure to let you know how thankful he is to have you and his child in his life, he would never be able to find the words to express it. so he chooses actions instead. as he tickles his little baby their shrieks of delight and giggles makes him all warm inside, he truly was the luckiest person ever. <3

The blacked out lines on the lieutenant’s dossier

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!civilian reader fluff Masterlist

A/N: Thank you all so much to the love you showed to "Just 'friends, huh?"

SUMMARY: a work inconvenience drives Ghost to knock on your door, revealing a secret side of his life to his team that quickly submerges him in comfort before a sudden call pushes him to finally claim it.

wc: 2.8k

Pic credits to the amazing @/661ave

After a failed mission and a call that they had been denied a safe flight home until further notice, the 141 boys followed Ghost’s steps through a dark neighborhood, their eyes pried open and alert to any possible threats. It felt odd walking towards your house dressed that way, carrying the weight of a life he didn’t want to impose upon you but he believed he had no choice.

Price’s steps matched his as he had quickened his pace to walk beside him “What’s your plan here Simon, eh? Have you thought this through?”

Ghost’s eyes met his captain’s, it was obvious that Price had already put two and two together and knew that he was walking them to the house of the woman the soldier had begged his superiors to put under constant protection, he had signed those papers.

 “I drove you all here, didn’t I? ‘Bit too late to turn around”

They all marched up the driveway where the tires of Simon’s truck would eventually dig into the cured concrete from how much time he spent behind the door he now stood in front of, yet it was unoccupied now. The rest waited just before the stairs, not willing to invade whatever trust the lieutenant had given them. His gloved hand knocked on your door, it was quiet and almost hesitant purposefully so that if you didn’t answer, it would be the perfect excuse for him to continue keeping you a secret but you did, you always did. You opened the door and smiled at him. There you were, eyes a bit wide in surprise from seeing him but happy he was safe. Your eyes flickered from his to the rest of the task force, Ghost ducked his head and began to apologize but your voice interrupted him. 

You stepped aside and motioned inside “Get in, you’re gonna catch a cold”

You didn’t need him to explain anything, you knew that if he had exposed this part of his life, it had been for a good reason. A man with unusual facial hair smiled at you as he followed Ghost in, the man that followed couldn’t help the furrow on his brow as he walked past you while the last, the one with a mohawk, gave you a firm nod and a “Thank you lass” that you answered with a smile as you closed the door behind him.

You let a hand fall on Ghost’s arm as you walked past him letting him know that he could handle this whichever way he wanted even though it was your home.

“You guys can sit” Ghost said as he took all his unnecessary gear off, directing them to the dining area. Perhaps avoiding the living room most decorated with pictures where his face could be seen “Don’t touch anythin’, don’t ask anythin’...don’t even breathe—”

“Simon” you warned as you walked towards the dining table they were now sitting at and placed a plate of homemade cookies between them as the water boiled for the tea. Ghost let out a sigh with a shake of his head.

“Y/n, that’s Captain John Price—” the captain took off his hat and abandoned it on the table, offering you his hand and a smile.

“Pleasure to meet you” he said as you shook it.

Ghost continued, motioning to the man sitting next to the captain “Sergeant Garrick, we call ‘im ‘Gaz’”

“Ma’am” he greeted.

“And that’s–”

“Johnny?” you guessed with a smile that caused your lips to stretch “Nice to finally put a face to the name”

Soap immediately sat up in his chair and tried to hold a smile back as he avoided Ghost’s eyes and met yours excitingly “Uh- You know my name?”

“Lieutenant Prissy Pants here talks quite a bit about you” you laughed as Simon poked at your sides for you to stop telling him about it. Now he won’t ever hear the end of it from the Sergeant.

“Now why would you tell ‘im tha’?”

“Cause it’s true” you shrugged, swatting his hands away.

Soap chuckled “I knew you liked me Lt.”

The soldier pointed an accusing finger to his partner “Don’t push it. Who says tha’ what i tell her is all in your favor?”

The sergeant's smile fell immediately, making Gaz chuckle as he patted his back harshly “What do you–Is any of it favorable ma’am?”

You smiled, shrugging again, refusing to let him know how much Ghost really appreciated him “Please, just call me Y/n” you answered instead, noticing Simon’s sharp eyes on Johnny.

Soap raised his hand awkwardly and both Price and Gaz couldn’t help but laugh a bit as they ducked their heads “And who exactly are you, lass? If I may ask. We’re all in the dark ‘ere”

Ghost stood taller if that was even possible, his gaze was menacing “That’s exactly where you should be. She’s off limits, Johnny”

You hit him lightly on the chest, not even budging at the action as you pointed to a chair for him to sit on, which he refused and went into the kitchen to get the kettle and tea bags. You followed after him, nudging him with your shoulder at the fact that he beat you to it, driven by the need to get back into the familiar routine. On a tray you put the mugs, sugar and teaspoons for everyone and then walked out behind him setting it all on the table.

“I’m probably the only friend he has” you answered as they all picked a mug.

“That’s not true” Ghost argued. Walking towards Soap and taking the mug he had chosen from his hands and giving him another one with no further words. The mug in question was white, decorated with colorful childlike drawings of flowers, a truck and all sorts of scribbles. It was his and only his. As if on cue, a noise sounded from somewhere down the hall by the stairs and Ghost met your eyes apologetically.

“Boo?” a little tired voice called “‘s that you?”

Ghost sighed thinking of an answer fit to the situation so it wouldn’t lead to heartbreak which it always did. The little voice didn’t wait for an answer as all of you turned to look at the corner leading to the hallway and there was a little girl peeking behind it. She gasped, her tired face lighting up as she saw Ghost, who immediately abandoned the kettle he was holding when she began running to him. 

The kid ran towards him with the brightest smile you’d seen on her face since she last saw him, she was in her pajamas and held very tightly a teddy bear but not just any, one that was painted as a skeleton, matching the soldier's gloves. Ghost didn’t hesitate a second to bend down and catch her, hugging her tightly against him with a hand on the back of her head as if she would ever fall or slip away. He then turned to you.

“You’re my only full sized friend” he stated plainly, making you chuckle. He thought it would be harder to ignore the looks every member of the task force would give him but truth is, it was the easiest thing to do just like feeling like he was home again. First you and then a kid? This felt far too invasive for them, making them shift on their chairs and share awkward looks. “You naughty girl, it’s way past your bedtime. What are you doing up?”

The kid pulled back from the hug and giggled a bit, touching his mask and wondering why it wasn’t already off. It didn’t take long for her to understand he wasn’t staying and when she noticed the three unknown men looking at her, she got shy and tried to hide in Ghost’s arms.

“Mommy!” she whined, clutching her teddy closer and burying her face in the soldier’s shoulder.

“It’s alright honey, those are Ghost’s work friends…uh, this is my daughter–- who should be in bed”

She giggled in Ghost’s arms as he poked at her sides before he went to sit while still holding her, allowing her to sit on his lap. As much as he wanted to pretend he wanted to make this passage and stay as nonexistent as he could for her sake, he couldn’t ignore how happy he felt…he was even glad his voice had woken her up. “Did Johnny wake you up with his annoying accent?”

“Hey! Lt. that’s not very nice of ya” Soap frowned.

The kid laughed, falling forward and abandoning her teddy bear in Ghost’s hands to tug at his mask a bit. He let his forehead meet hers and she whispered “Can I have cookies?” The lieutenant tilted his head at her pout and sighed, turning around to see if you were watching. When he saw you in the kitchen with your back to them, he handed her half of one, bringing his index to his lips and making her laugh.

With a mouthful of cookies and crumbs on her fingers, she tapped Ghost’s chest to get his attention yet his eyes had never left her, he hummed and followed her pointed finger to Price.

“He has funny hair” she noted quietly.

“I keep telling ‘im tha’”

“You don’t like it, sweetheart?” the captain smiled. Your kid rapidly retracted her arm and looked up at Ghost as if asking for permission to answer. He nodded.

“Are you Santa?” This question made the boys chuckle lowly, catching your attention from the kitchen. It even made Ghost laugh, crinkles appearing at the side of his eyes as he grew happier.

“Do I look like him?” Price asked only for her to shrug and slide off of Ghost’s embrace, leaving the teddy bear and a quarter of her cookie in his hand, all signs of her coming back shortly. She only ran off for a few seconds and came back with a DVD she first showed Ghost, making his shoulders shake with laughter. He hummed again, pointing at Price for her to show him too. She placed the DVD in his hands and immediately climbed onto Ghost's lap again, taking the remaining quarter of the cookie from his palm and eating it. Price turned the DVD and laughed when he saw it was The Lorax, which now that he was seeing it up close, their facial hair could look similar to a kid. Gaz leaned in to see and Soap did too, they both laughed at their Captain.

“What’s going on here?” you asked with a smile, finally taking a seat not far from Simon, who’s eyes were now on you. He missed this, he missed you.

“Your daughter might grow up to be a comedian someday” Price smiled, sliding the DVD towards you. 

“Or a bully” Ghost added jokingly.

You chuckled, eyes falling on your daughter. “Better that than a criminal…did you give her cookies?” 

“No?” he simply answered.

You narrowed your eyes at him “She has crumbs on her face”

Simon looked down at your kid who was looking up at him and trying to lick the crumbs away. “Those are freckles” he answered, swiping his gloved hand over her mouth to help her.

“Sure they are…you guys are staying the night?”

Price nodded, sitting up “Only if that isn’t an inconvenience for you. We should have a ride back soon”

“Just needed a place to lay low and that was safe and secure. Lt. provided it and we thank you for letting us in” Soap added which made you smile.

You nodded “That’s very kind but I’m still not telling you what he says about you”

“Nice try, Johnny”

The laughs soon turned into a friendly conversation between you and his team as his eyes stayed on you, trying to memorize you so he could see you when he closed his eyes. Your daughter had her head on his chest as she enjoyed the back rubs he offered, she was growing tired yet fighting the sleep to stay up for longer in his presence.

“Honey, let's go back to bed, hm?” you asked quietly, touching her arm gently. Your kid nodded lazily yet grabbed onto Simon harder.

“Can i?” he asked, motioning to the hallway that led to the stairs.

You nodded, the chair’s legs causing some noise as he stood up with her in his arms. The second, his back was to his team, he removed his mask and let it hang from his hand as he effortlessly carried her.

“Hi Boo” she greeted tiredly, touching his face as she looked at him from her position, head on his shoulder.

You knew he was smiling, you could hear it in his voice “Hi bubba” he answered quietly, holding her up a bit more so she could circle her short arms around him and bury her face in the crook of his neck the way she always did. You knew his teammates had questions by the looks on their faces but it really wasn’t up to you to reveal anything.

Simon walked up the stairs carefully towards her room, a path he could easily take blindfolded and one that he decided to extend by taking smaller steps but eventually he reached your daughter’s room, the space being lit up by a night light. 

“Bubba?” he called quietly, since he was hearing her steady sleeplike breaths.

“Mm?” she answered, getting more comfortable in his hold.

He took in a deep breath “I might not be here when you wake up–” her arms tightened around him “and I need you t’ promise me tha’ you won’t give your mum a hard time about it…it’s not her fault” 

“But I don’t want you to go” she mumbled into his skin, sniffling quietly.

“I don’t either but I'm still working…when I'm done I’ll come see you again and I'll stay for a while…as always, yeah?—” Simon only heard her breathing followed by silence “Sweetheart?”

Simon stood in the middle of her room with her in his arms for a while, he knew now that she was asleep so she didn’t need him but he was the one in need. He needed that hug, he needed that silence and this normalcy. The one thing he wished more than anything was to be worthy of this and not just with anyone but with you and your daughter. He thought often about how this friendship started and he still couldn’t understand at what point he became unafraid to have, to feel and to love but here he was, holding and caring for your daughter as if she was of his own blood. He had a personal mug in your cupboard next to the kind of tea he liked, he had slippers dented on the inner soles with the weight of his relaxed body and a place on the family drawings your daughter drew but he didn’t have you.

After he put her down in bed and pressed a kiss to her forehead, he slipped the mask back on and went to look for you. You were sitting next to Price as you started a game of cards to pass time when he called your name and asked you to talk privately. Just as you rose to your feet, Price got the call that they needed to go to a rendez-vous point in the city to be picked up so this was goodbye.

He directed you to a quiet and dark hallway and he immediately took off his mask, from where you stood, you could see him perfectly and the reality hit you harder when you heard the rest of his team gear up again. You were leaning your shoulder against the wall, looking up at him. He seemed defeated, how could he not be?

You breathed out quietly “I know you can’t tell me anything about whatever’s going on because it’s confidential but are you okay?”

There it was… that worry, that question, that look and that tone you had, that made him melt every time without fail, wielding the same accuracy he burned holes through targets with. Simon thought about his answer for a second, he thought about saying words that wouldn’t quite translate anything he was feeling so he leaned in, hands on either side of your face. His eyes met yours looking for any sign of discomfort before his lips gently pressed against your lips in the presence of none. The kiss was gentle yet somewhat urgent, you had to hold onto his wrists as he truly seemed to melt into you, a weight you were willing to be buried under every night from now on.

“Now I am” he whispered once he pulled back, arms surrounding your body and hugging you close. He was almost burying his face in your hair while holding your head close with his hand, he was breathing you in, a distinctive smell he described as comfort, one that he looked for everywhere he went since the day he met you. 

“I haven’t felt better since i last saw my girls”

Walkman -- Fred Weasley

Wow another one huh? Yea :)

Summary - Fred is suddenly interested in muggle studies so the reader teaches him some

Word Count - 1.9k

It wasn't often that other students at Hogwarts cared much about Muggle items. So when Fred had recently taken in interest in muggle studies, he had came to y/n about it.

"Its not that I know nothing, I know plenty from what my father goes on about. But I don't know, I want to learn more." She and Fred had been friends for a little over a year and he hadn't previously expressed any liking to the subject. So why now? Why not just sign up for Muggle Studies?

She didn't care enough to express it aloud.

See, Y/n had grown up as a muggle. Her mum had been a witch but both her and her father feared she wouldn't be a witch because she didn't show the normal signs at a young age. So they sent her to muggle school until she officially got her letter. No one could explain the relief and joy on her mum's face when she saw the letter in their box.

"When do you have time to learn?" She asked with a tilt of her head.

"Any time really. We could practically start now!" He replied excitedly. She shook her head with a smile.

"You're lucky it's a Saturday you git, I'll floo home and grab some stuff to teach you about." And with that she turned and walked away from the boy. For the first time in a while he was genuinly excited to learn something, maybe because his teacher would be someone he fancied. He thought maybe he hadn't felt like this since he discovered he could scare the trousers off his mum by hiding behind doors and jumping out at 6 years old.

And so he waited for her to get back.

While Fred waited at the castle, Y/n appeared suddenly in her homes fireplace. This earned quite the screech from her little brother who was sat on the couch.

And yes, was, he promptly fell off the couch once she appeared.

"Sorry Alastair, just came to grab a few things. Is dad home?" He nodded, pointing behind him to the kitchen where the smell of pancakes wafted through the house.

Not only was Y/n's dad a muggle, he was also American. He had moved from America when he was 17, wanting to escape his horrendous family and have a big change. He met Y/n's mother when he was visiting a museum in Scottland. She had been on a field trip for muggle studies.

"Dad?" He jumped slightly, nearly dropping the spatula he held in his hand.

"Christ Y/n, what are you doing here." He laughed, pulling her into a side hug.

"One of my friends wants to learn more about muggles and asked if I would teach him. Have any recommendations on what I should tell him about?" His eyes narrowed at his daughter.

"Is this that boy I heard you talking to mom about? The tall ginger boy?" Her cheeks flushed at the comment, partially because he had been eavesdropping on her and her mother and partially because he was correct. After a few seconds of silence, she spoke up again.

"Can you just give me ideas please?" He decided not to tease her further and began brewing up ideas for her.

"Alright, I have a few things I think he may like to hear about, literally." This peaked the girls curiosity as she followed him to her parents shared bedroom.

Y/n's dad ruffled through his side table and brought out a Walkman.

"Do you think he's ever used one of these?" He handed it to her nonchalantly.

"Definitely not." She laughed, grabbing it from his hands.

"You could probably just grab a few random things from your room and he wouldn't know what they were. It stunned me how much stuff your mother was unaware of." He shrugged. "You can borrow it for a while. And take this tape, I made it for your mom so she could hear top hits from America."

"Perfect! Thanks Dad." And she was then off to her room in search for more things to show Fred.

It didn't take her long to gather a few things and bring them to her dad to ask what he thought. She spread a pile of things out in front of him and asked him to weed out the things he thought Fred wouldn't understand.

They were left with a slap bracelet, a tamagotchi, the Walkman, and for fun, crayola step markers and stick on earrings from when Y/n was a kid. She thanked her dad with a hug and asked him to say hi to Mom for her and vanished through the floo again with a loud goodbye to her brother.

Once she arrived back, she skipped down the stairs to find Fred in the common room in front of the fireplace. His tie was loosened quite a bit and a few of his top buttons undone on his shirt. She bit the inside of her cheek like she didn often when he made her flustered.

Clearly he didn't have to do much.

"Would you like to come up to my dorm so I can show you some stuff?" She asked through the silence. His head whipped around with a sinister smile.

"Godric that's quite forward of you." He winked. She could feel the inevitable heat rushing to her cheeks at the comment.

"You know that's not what I meant you arse, do you wanna learn or not?" She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall behind her.

"Alright let's go." He stood with a laugh, squeezing her shoulder while going to trot up the stairs. She pushed ahead of him and got to her room door. Fred looked at her curiously as she leaned down close to her door handle and whispered into it. The door creaked open as she stood straight.

"What was that?" He asked, plopping on her bed.

"Mione and I charmed the door so that it needs a password. Don't want anyone walking in on is changing and stuff. The only ones who know it is us and Luna." She explained as she shuffled through the bag she brought back from her house.

"Can I know it?" His eyebrow quirked slightly, leaning back on his arms with a wicked smile.

"No you cannot, it's kind of an inside joke. Now scoot so I can show you stuff." He was shoved back slightly so he was sitting closer to the headboard of her bed and she sat opposite. She spread the things out on the bed as he looked at them with a scrunched face. He first picked up the stick ons.

"What are these?" He held them like it was a dirty nappy. She giggled and snatched them from his hands. Her fingers grabbed two of them and she used her other hand to grab his chin and bring his face closer. He stared into her eyes with intensity. She probably thought he was so confident, but it was really a front for how nervous she made him. Y/n quickly turned his head to the side and put the stick-on on his ear, repeating it on the other side.

"Now look in the mirror." He hopped from the bed and turned his head in the reflection with a giddy smile.

"I actually kind of like it." Y/n stuck some to her ears and stood in the mirror with him.

"Now match!" She said enthusiastically. He looked down at her with a sweet smile and adoring eyes.

*This girl was certainly something to him.*

"Alright more. This one is pretty self explanatory. It's called a slap bracelet. Put your wrist out." He did so with a suspicious look. She raised it and hit it to his wrist as it wrapped around it. She had never seen someone look so amazed. He took it off, straightened it, and did it again.

"That's phenomenal!"

"They make ruler versions of them too so you can carry around a ruler as a bracelet. I used them in primary."

It took her an exponentially long time to explain the tamagotchi to Fred. He was beyond confused about it. But they ended up taking care of what he called 'their baby' for a good 25 minutes.

*Their baby*

This of course wasnt something Y/n would really think about until weeks later. Daft woman.

They had really stamped up each others arms with the stamp markers as well. Along with a little heart Y/n had stamped sneakily on Fred's cheek.

She of course saved the best for last, the Walkman. She slipped the tape into it and handed it to him, teaching hin the buttons.

"This is a Walkman, for music. My dad said he has top his of the decade on it for my mom." She set the headphones on his head and pressed play. She could very mildly hear 'Wannabee' by the Spice girls leaking through the headset. She very slightly slid one side of the headset off of his ear so he could hear her, brushing his cheek on accident. Not that she noticed.

But he did.

"If you hold down this button it skips the song onto the next one." He held it done and 'I Want it that Way' by Backstreet Boys was playing. He really got into this song. He hooked the player onto his packet and got up and started dancing all dramatic. She sat up against her headboard just watching him enjoy herself.

Now, Y/n tended to say her thoughts aloud when she was extremely zoned in or out. It's not something that was intentional, it was actually something she hated. Most the time it got her into trouble. Most the time after it happend all she could think was simply.

*Well Shit*

"I'm so in love with you." It slipped effortlessly, ber eyes widening as soon as tr he words were said. She thought maybe she could have gotten lucky and the music would still be blaring in his ears. But since when was the girl lucky?

Fred slowly pulled the headphones from his head and scrunched his eyebrows.

"You are?" She couldn't read the exact emotion on his face, making her afraid to answer. So she just nodded. He sat by her slowly, not facing her, just sitting next to her. They both stared straight forward.

All you could hear in the room was the very subtle music leaking from the headphones at the end of the bed.

Fred felt like such a wimp. She literally just confessed her love to him. One he shared for her, and he couldn't even say anything. Maybe he was just stunned.

Suddenly she reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers, turning to look at him. He smiled and grabbed the side of her jaw so gently.

"I'm so in love with you too." She smiled with a small giggle and leaned in to kiss him, pulling away faster than Fred would have liked.

"WeasleBottom." She said suddenly, catching him completely off guard.

"What?"

"That's the password. It's a mixture of the last names of our crushes. Pretty cheesy huh?" He shook his head with a laugh.

"I think it's pretty flattering." He pulled her in for another kiss. "You getting why I wanted to learn about muggle stuff now?"

"For me?" She smiled with her hand over her heart.

"Of course for you."

*Anything for her.*

sorry about the shirt (f.w.)

a/n: now that i named this fic this, now i have an idea for another fic with this as a prompt.... ugh my mind, curse my cognition! also, i have deleted this and reformatted this like six times and the title is still not saving as a god-damn title anymore. ugh. tumblr (pls don't shadowban me again)

tv show/movie: harry potter | pairing: fred weasley x fem!hufflepuff!reader

requested by the lovely @readingfan  (hope you enjoy it💛!) | my little pea-sized, fred-lane brain made this a fred x reader without me realizing it until seconds before posting this

synopsis: fred and george getting a summer job in a coffee shop where a pretty girl frequents. said pretty girl seems to have fred in a trance. what could possibly go wrong? well, fred knows what could now that an innocent shirt has been ruined.

taglist: @frederickandgeorge-weasley | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @onyourgoddamnleft *line through you user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: reader is described to wear sundresses | mentioned of negative thoughts about oneself (reader has negative thoughts about herself) | fred and george being teens (aged to be 18, idc if it's not canonically plausible) working in retail).

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- not my gif -

GIF by fgweasley

Summer was supposed to be a time of freedom, long nights, and recklessness and there was nobody else who knew this more than Fred and George. Unfortunately for them, it appears that their summer was going to be nothing but seeing the inside of that damn coffee shop. Fred and George rarely ever regretted a prank, but right now, they were starting to think that perhaps slipping Malfoy that candy that made his skin turn Gryffindor red and his hair a golden snitch gold wasn’t worth this. It also taught them that when Malfoy said his father would hear about this, he actually means it - sometimes.  

  However, no matter how funny the prank was and how much it was worth all the time they spent planning and agonizing to create the final product, it was not worth this. Not worth the wrinkled fingers that lost all feeling after wiping down every single table and counter in the cafe. Not worth the skin of the heat from the coffee machines. Not worth the horrible experience of dealing with customers. Not to mention uncomfortable uniforms. Forced to wear black jeans, black dress shirts, and a ratty old apron ten other people wore before them. 

  While George grumbled everyday, hoping and wishing for their return to Hogwarts (something nobody expected to hear), Fred’s summer was not a complete waste. He did not realize this when they applied for their job, but this coffee shop tucked into a hidden alleyway of Diagon Alley was often frequented by a rather pretty girl. In her flowing sundresses, her hair cascading down over her shoulders in soft waves. When he first saw her his knees nearly gave out. Then when she turned to leave (lemonade in hand - it was a hot day) and he caught a glimpse of the white ribbon tying her hair into a half-up, half-down style, George had to catch him because his knees did give out. She looked vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly place her. 

  “She’s in our year, a Hufflepuff,” Hermione had told him one day when she and Ron had visited them. They were out gathering ideas for a present for Harry. “She’s quiet, likes to stick to her routine but doesn’t shy away from new opportunities. She’s in my book club and study club. She has such a beautiful voice but she thinks it's horrible - that’s why she is so quiet.” She revealed after Fred pressed her for more information. 

  Unfortunately for Fred, he has yet to hear that beautiful voice since he never seems to be on the cash when she comes in or someone beats him to it - usually George as a form of twisted amusement. “Hermione was right. She does have a beautiful voice.” George blinked after the first time he took her order. It was later discovered that the reason she hates her voice was because some Slytherins had poked fun at her in First Year, leaving her with an ugly taste in her mouth and horrible self-confidence. Fred could wring their necks, every last one of them. 

  Anytime Fred had any downtime, he found himself thinking of her. He knew nothing of her but, yet, she consumed every thought and every dream of his. Such as today. It was a horribly humid and dreadful day. Every door to the coffee shop was open, a cooling spell was placed on the shop but it was barely fighting against the stickiness, and the owner even found some muggle fans and set them up. It was slow, barely anyone wanted to leave their houses and if they did, they surely couldn’t even think about sipping on a coffee - even one of their iced ones since the ice would probably melt before they even took their first sip. 

  But here was Fred, elbows digging into the counter as he hogged one of the fans. His back was facing the entrance as he moved with the fan which was oscillating. George was in the back, doing work back there but Fred was sure he was just sitting in front of that fan. “Bloody hell.” He groaned, pinching his shirt and pulling it away from him. This was torture. 

  “Excuse me,” A soft, hesitant voice called to him over the rattling of the fan, startling him. Turning around, his eyes widened when she saw who stood at the counter. Hair pulled up into a high ponytail, bangs hanging around her face from where the shorter strands fell out of the ponytail. Even looking right at her, he saw the ribbon she usually wore in her hair. Today’s was a pretty yellow shade, matching the sundress she wore. It was a pale yellow, nothing that jumped right out at you. “Could I get a large lemonade?” She asked him, blinking sweetly as she rolled up to the balls of her white converse. That voice. He was blown away. He was never going to be the same after hearing that beautiful sound. How could he go on with his life knowing that that voice exists and he isn’t hearing it every second of everyday.  

  “Yes, of course,” He nodded, rushing to the counter, nearly tripping over himself. “George, can you make a large lemonade?” He yelled out back as he typed away on the till. Instantly, George emerged, a large lemonade in hand. 

  “Here ya go, Y/N. I knew you would be wanting one of these today. Made it once I heard your voice.” He winked at her and Fred contemplated murdering him right there. He actually considered it when she giggled at his twin, but the sound made him stop. Everybody said her voice was the most beautiful sound, which he could agree with all his heart on now that he heard it, but her giggle. Just thinking about making her laugh made him want to lay on his stomach on his bed and kick his feet like Ginny does whenever Harry says hi to her. 

  “Thank you, George,” She smiled thankfully, holding out her hand. Almost as if under a spell, Fred reached his hand out, palm facing up. With her sweet smile turning to Fred, she dropped a handful of sickles in his palm. Her fingers brushed against the palm of his hand, sending shivers and sparks running through his nerves. “That’s enough for the lemonade and ten sickles for you guys to split for a tip. Thank you, Fred.” 

  The shock sent to Fred’s system was immense when she said his name. She knew his name. She knew his name. He opened and closed his mouth as she turned on her heel, her skirt flaring up adorably, her ponytail and ribbon flaring up as well and off she went into the dreadful heat, making Fred’s day so much better. 

____

  It was a rush. Possibly the biggest rush Fred and George have ever experienced at the shop. The queue was running out of the door. Perhaps everyone just now realized that summer was coming to a close and just now decided to emerge from their lazy, hazy, summer daze to enjoy the days. This, of course, made Fred miserable. 

  Instead of enjoying their time, patrons were making their lives a living hell. And for what? Amusement? What was the reason he had to get yelled at by a man because his coffee was too hot to drink? He questioned if it was possible that these people got some sort of happiness from throwing adult hissyfits and yelling at underpaid, overworked employees. Did they have some sort of odd kink? Did it fill a missing void? Whatever it was, Fred quite frankly did not want to be part of it.  

  However, when he saw that shining face in the queue, her nose buried in her book as she read so intently. She wore her hair down aside from two locks of hair tied back into a braid, secured by a light blue ribbon today. When he saw her, he froze for a moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way the sun burned through the dirty windows (that seemed to have fingerprint smudged permanently tattooed on it) and hit her like a golden spotlight. The way her finger absentmindedly stroked the cover of her book as she read. 

  “Excuse me,” The customer in front of him barked. He jolted back to reality. Frankly, he already was in reality since Y/N was completely gorgeous. There was no fantasy about that. She was perfect. The fantasy was that she had feelings for him or at least thought he was cute. “Did you get my order?” The man, a short, plump man with an angry red nose despite the beautiful summer day they were having, grumbled. 

  “One medium coffee. Would you like that iced or with anything in it?” Fred asked the normal questions, bracing himself for the normal response he usually received from people with certain mannerisms. 

  The man’s nose seemed to get even more red. “Of course I don’t. If I wanted it another way, I would have ordered it another way. What do I look like? An idiot? Rowena, you kids these days, needing to have things iced and sweetened. Whatever happened to the good British taste? Black coffee. That is what I want-”

  “That will be 3 sickles, Sir.” Fred read the total off, noticing how Y/N glanced up, rolling onto her tiptoes to take note of what was taking so long. He wanted to get this nasty old man out of his line so that she could get on with her day. Her day shouldn’t be wasted in this shop waiting in line. 

  “Here, keep the change.” The man basically tossed the sickles at Fred. Four sickles. 

  “Some change,” Fred whispered under his breath, putting three sickles in the till and dropping one in the communal tip jar. That naked a total of five sickles in tips. “Have a nice day, sir,” Fred faked a smile as the man waddled off to the pick-up area, barking at George to hurry up. “I can help whoever is next.” “Two people until her.” Fred thought. 

  “Hi, could we get two lemonades? Mediums please,” The teen girl giggled, eyes staring up at Fred sweetly. Fred nodded, writing the order down and sliding it along the counter. Harrison, the manager, grabbed it to start making it. “So, we’ll be seeing you at Hogwarts in a couple of weeks, right, George?” She asked with a bat of her eyelashes, still getting his name wrong despite his name tag being basically eye level with her. He could see Y/N look up from her book, snickering slightly behind her book. 

  “I’m actually Fred. And yes. That will be seven sickles today.” Fred read off their total, holding his hand out for their money. 

  “Oh, sorry. You both are so handsome, it’s hard to tell you apart.” She flirted with a wink, dropping exactly seven sickles in his hand. 

  “Have a nice day,” He nodded to them as they wandered off with linked arms to bother George. “Next please!” He just needed to take care of this one customer and then she would be at his cash. Evidently, she noticed this as she was tucking her book into her bag and pulling out her coin wallet. He watched her intently, somehow managing to take the customer’s order and recite the amount of money he needed. 

  He watched as she counted the sickles she had pulled out before pulling out two more coins before doing some math in her head. He could tell since her eyes flicked around and she used her free hand to wiggle her fingers as if counting on them. “Have a nice day.” He wasn’t even sure what that customer ordered, but he must have done it right. 

  And up stepped the person he was waiting for. Y/N stepped up with a bounce, smiling brightly at him. He wanted to faint right there. There she was, standing there and it overwhelmed him so much that his nervous system was going haywire on him. “Hi, Freddie!” She seemed to have gotten much more comfortable. She was more bubbly and talkative with him and his brother. She even started to call them by nicknames. It warmed Fred’s heart to the point it might burst. 

  “Hi, Y/N, what can I get for you today?” He asked, trying to calm his racing heart and malfunctioning nervous system. He was in fight-or-flight with the secret third option: faint. 

  “Just a large iced coffee. I am trying to finish off the last book on my book club’s summer reading list and I decided I might as well change up the scenery.” She explained, her voice much more even and comfortable. Not the same reluctant, soft voice she had when she first talked to him. And if he thought that voice was beautiful, then this voice was perfect. Alluring. Charming. Cute. Marvelous. Dazzling. Delicate. Stunning. Splendid. Gorgeous. Lovely. Any synonym there was for beautiful because this voice was so much better. 

  Before he could even tell her the total, she handed him the sickles she had counted out prior to the interaction. She always did it. “Three sickles for the iced coffee and how many for the tip?” He asked, knowing exactly how she worked things. 

  “Fifteen. Five for everyone who worked today,” She smiled as she rolled up to the balls of her feet - something he found that she did often. The line was gone aside from her and part of Fred wished it would stay away so she could stand there talking to him, but unfortunately someone walked in. “I’ll leave you to it, Fred.” She smiled at him. It appeared sad and part of him hoped that she felt upset about having to part from him. 

  He watched her walk over to George who held her coffee out to her. Sharing pleasantries, she headed off to one of the many tables. Taking her normal table by the window. “Alright boys. I am heading out, I’ll be back in two hours to close it down.” Harrison told them. That was most likely the last rush of the day. People didn’t tend to frequent the coffee shop near close. They gave him nods as he left. 

  Thirty minutes and they hadn’t stopped. Anytime they saw a lull coming, once they served one customer, two more would come. Just as Fred turned his back, taking a deep breath as the attack stopped, he heard the approaching footsteps of someone. He wanted to roll his eyes and outwardly show the resentment he had felt, but he didn’t feel the same hostility he had felt with the last few customers. Part of him should have known why before he turned around, but sometimes he isn’t always on the ball. 

  As he turned around, he was pleasantly shocked to see Y/N standing there at the counter again, her head down as she inspected the wet patch on her blue sundress. After a few seconds of silence, she looked up, hand hovering over the patch on the center of her torso. “Hey, Fred, again,” She smiled, a bit awkwardly as she didn’t usually come up after she got her order unless it was to say bye to the boys (something rather new after she got comfortable with them). “Do you think I could get a napkin? That last customer who left kind of knocked into me a bit and I got the last bit of iced coffee on me-” She cut herself off as Fred reacted without thinking, grabbing the back of his brother’s black shirt and ripping it off of him.

  “Here you go, Y/N.” He handed it to her. Shocked, she took it from him. George just stood there, blinking at his brother as if he had gone completely mad. Fred considered this a sign that perhaps, working nearly every single day of the summer had made him cracked in the head. Slowly, looking at the face Y/N was making, he came back into his body. It was as if seeing Y/N in need made him go into autopilot, doing whatever he needed to to resolve the issue Y/N was facing. 

  “Fred, what in Godric's name?” George questioned, still a bit shocked that his brother completely ripped the back of his shirt off, leaving just his sleeves and the front. It was silent as the three of them all looked at each other, trying to make sense of the situation. Fred couldn’t even remember his brain telling him to do that, let alone any thought of ripping his brother’s shirt. 

  The silence was broken by the sweet giggles of Y/N. Fred nearly gave himself whiplash turning his head to look at her. There she stood, on the other side of the counter, one hand holding the tattered shreds of George’s shirt, the other one hovering over her mouth as her giggled turned into laughter, eyes crinkling closed. “Oh my Helga,” She pressed her lips together, her purely magnetic eyes opening and meeting Fred’s with a zing being sent through Fred’s body like electricity (which this summer, he discovered was pretty dangerous). “I needed that, Freddie. That guy who bumped my arm as a complete arse-” Fred blinked, that might have been the most foul he had ever heard her talk, though Hermione had told him she had said much worse about some of the guys in their year. “You know exactly what to do to make people laugh, it’s an amazing gift,” She nodded at him, a large smile hanging off her lips. “Thank you, see you at Hogwarts if I am not in next week.” She whispered as she rolled onto the balls of her feet. 

  Before Fred could react, she was pressing her lips against his cheek. Her sweet looking lips felt even sweeter against the now burning flesh of his freckled cheeks. He knew that now he felt her lips, he wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about how they would feel against his own lips, but right now his brain was empty. He couldn’t function as she pulled away, heels crashing to the ground. A bashful smile stayed on her lips as she waved to the pair of them, Fred so far gone he barely even registered the fact that her lips were no longer touching him - probably due to the fact that the tingling he felt was still there.    When he finally came back into his body again, Y/N and her bashfulness had left with her book tucked under her arm for almost five minutes. Blinking around, Fred saw the basically empty shop, the only person lingering being someone who had been there for two hours now. Looking to his side, he felt George’s “what the hell” look before he saw it. Winching, nervous about his brother’s wrath. “Sorry about the shirt, George.”

Recommendations

So as I am also an avid reader as well as writer, I figured I'd credit some of the writers who have inspired me and whose work I adore. This started with the stardust reblog challenge but it will probably continue afterwards. Enjoy!

Mimicry, tom riddle x reader by @sunder-soul

Tell Me What You Want, min yoongi x reader by @wwilloww

Shut up and kiss me, sirius black x reader by @padfoot-and-prongsie

I hate you, fred weasley x reader by @saintlike78

vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche, sirius black x reader by @acosmis-t

8:20 PM, park jimin x reader by @likeastarstar

anything for Ledger!Joker by @ajokeformur-ray

Filthy Daydream, bucky barnes x reader by @metalbuckaroo

this untitled fic, eddie munson x reader by @ddejavvu

that stupid vest, spencer reid x reader by @softdoctorreid

lookin' for trouble, austin butler x reader by @blainesebastian

Show you off, steve harrington x reader x eddie munson by @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint

this untitled fic, steve harrington x reader x eddie munson by @honeybadgerwritings

flirt, park jimin x reader by @chateautae

with a feeling, sirius black x reader x james potter by @360iris

Head Over Heels/Code Lime Green, eddie munson x reader by @copycatkillerfics

Better Than Nine to Five, steve harrington x reader x eddie munson by @fettuccin-e

Just Another Friday Night, eddie munson x reader by @majestyeverlasting

this untitled fic, sirius black x reader by @indigoh4ze

royal!Sirius Black, sirius black x reader by @my-my-only-angel

ten more minutes, eddie munson x reader by @certifiedtrashmouth

Pretty Sounds, eddie munson x reader by @eddiethefreakkmunson

the thin line between with and at, spencer reid x reader by @sleepyspencer

you're so mean/ we're just getting started, lee minho x reader by @woooahaee

Mommytober 2022, various k-pop idols x reader by @whatudowhennooneseesyou

Anything For You, park seonghwa x reader by @lemonhongjoong

this untitled fic, lee minho x reader by @tasteracha

Clean Teeth & Goodnight Kisses, han jisung x reader by @jae-bummer

when you see my face, i hope it gives you hell, rodrick heffley x reader by @keravnous

two point five, jeon jungkook x reader by @bratkook

the sweet spot by the scruff of your knee socks, lee felix x reader AND no nut november-hyunjin, hwang hyunjin x reader by @gimmeurtmi

+ more to come~

i love ao3 but tumblr fanfics just hit different 😩😩

In Love With A Downright Git

Requested: yes

Fred Weasley x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: sexual themes, crude language, chafing, mentions of being unclothed, George Weasley in burgundy boxers with beater’s bats and snitches on them

Word Count: 7456

i got a tad carried away with this one but i loVE IT SO MUCH

——————————

Fred watched as Y/n L/n gave a perfect demonstration in front of the class, Professor Snape clearly proud of the representation of his house. The potion, a bubbling sage green that smelled faintly of mint and dirt, was not what Fred was paying attention to. No, he was watching the way Y/n’s hair, pulled back into a ponytail, seemed to showcase her face perfectly. Her just barely arrogant smirk that was drawn so delicately on her features, eyes looking at her partner who was shaking her head at her with an annoyed smile. Fred thinks her name is Lily but isn’t sure, she never tickled his fancy, not like Y/n did.

“Thank you Ms. L/n. You may have a seat now, though I may implore you to assist others who might not have such a natural gift.” Snape sneered, his eyes moving to an unsuspecting Ravenclaw.

Y/n was making her way back to her table when she decided to make the detour to her favorite set of twins to gloat.

“Keep staring, Weasley, maybe you’ll learn something.” She smirked and Fred, as usual, had to ignore the need he felt to pull her lips onto his.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Y/n.”

Keep reading

Simon ''Ghost'' Riley - Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Prompt List

Sex Pollen - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader:

After being hit by the experimental drug, Ghost can't get enough of your body.

You make it hard to be a Ghost - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader:

You write him poetry; Ghost rejects it every single time with a heavy heart until his walls start to crumble down.

Longing - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader:

The simple ways Ghost shows you how much he cares with his actions while you both yearn for each other's love.

Together - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader:

Ghost finds strength with your love in a near-death experience together.

Cold - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader - PART I

You come back to base a changed and scarred soldier after being held captive for a year, Ghost is desperate to help bring you back to be the woman he loved.

I'll meet you here — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Simon finds peace for the first time after retirement.

Character Study - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley

In-depth character analysis on Simon ''Ghost'' Riley based on the comic, campaigns, and voice lines from multi-player.

Idyllic - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader - Part I

content: fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, your honor, they love each other.

Tainted - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

Ghost became judge, jury and executioner.

CW: paranoia, gore, anxiety?

Salvatore - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

You join Simon for a late-night smoke, bad dad jokes ensue.

Lovely — Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Mom!Reader

No one knows how much violence it took to be this gentle.

Afraid - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

content: angst with a happy ending, mentions of death and injuries, hurt/comfort.

Monster | Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

Based on the violent sexual fantasies Simon ''Ghost'' Riley experiences after being tortured by Roba.

CW: noncon, darkfic, mind break, forced deepthroat, forced penetration, face slapping, tit slapping, rough sex, give in.

Perfect Life — Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Mom!Reader

The first night home with the baby.

Adoration — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Content: fluff, pregnant!reader, horrible dad jokes.

Living Dead Man - Zombie!Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

What is a husband but a man with a rotting body you can barely recognize?

CW: body horror, gore, tongue kiss with a dead man(?), is she wrong? morally, angst with a happy ending.

Beacon — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Cozy day in the life of a soldier and his pregnant wife.

Birthday Boy — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

content: mutual pining, idiots in love, fluff.

Mine - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

Synopsis: knowing he couldn't provide you with the life you wanted, Simon breaks things off with you. Two years later, you come back to base with a baby that isn't his.

Content: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, established relationships, breeding, erotic lactation, romantic love making, praising. No beta we die like Roach.

Lorelei — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Part I Part II | Part III

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

Believer - Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader

In which Simon believes he's truly undeserving of love, moved only by your stubbornness.

K-9 — Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader | Chapter I

Simon Riley and his pathetic efforts to get close to the new medic will earn him a scar or two

or

Simon Riley is in love with an uninterested, tired medic.

Lovely — Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Mom!Reader

"She looks just like you." You whisper softly, gaze full of love as you admire the baby between both of you. He doesn't respond for a long while, completely enamored by the little girl who is holding his finger with her entire tiny hand, looking in awe at the life you both created.

"She's so tiny." He whispers back, secretly afraid he'll startle the baby with his deep voice despite knowing she has fallen asleep to his voice and hums more than once. A small chuckle from you is all it takes for her face to turn towards you, her free hand grabbing a strand of your hair and trying to take it to her mouth before Simon gently intervenes, taking it back and giving her another finger to hold.

"Thank you." His gaze focuses on you as he cups your cheek, thumb tracing random patterns on your skin as the corners of his mouth tilt up in a small, tender smile.

"What for?" You ask as if you didn't know exactly what he was talking about, as if he hadn't thanked you hundreds of times for carrying his child ever since he found out you were pregnant.

"For creating her." His tone is as gentle and tender, and if it didn't show just how much he loves you, the look in his eyes totally did. He's looking at you like you're a goddess in the flesh— and you are. You give him a warm smile, leaning closer to plant a small kiss on his cheek, which he returns.

"I like our baby." He murmurs, his hand coming down to caress her cheek gently with one finger. He treats her like she's made of glass, and in his mind, she is. She's so tiny compared to his behemoth frame, and it took a while until he felt comfortable enough to hold her. He plants a soft kiss on her forehead, gaze drifting between his angels before he lets out a small sigh of content.

"She likes you too." You tease, playfully poking his side as the memories of how much of a daddy's girl your daughter is already despite being only three months old. It's lovely, really, to see the man everyone knows as "the big boy with the skull mask" become absolute putty under the tiny hands of his daughter.

He bends backwards for her, holding her late at night and talking to her, telling her all sort of stories about his life despite knowing she can't understand yet. His heart melts whenever his daughter simply looks up at him and babbles, hand reaching out to him and pulling on anything she can reach with surprising strength.

"Mum would have loved her." Your heart breaks at his hushed words, hand immediately reaching out to caress his cheek as he refuses to hold your gaze, simply looking down at your daughter with sadness hidden deep inside his loving stare.

"Look at me, big guy." It takes a few seconds for him to look up, and when he does, you can feel everything. The regret, the longing, the sadness, the pain. You bring him closer for a soft kiss, both of your lips turning up into a smile as your daughter interrupts you by babbling and holding onto Simon.

"You carry her love with you. In your eyes, your smile, your hair... her love didn't go with her when she passed." He looks down, biting the inside of his cheek softly before nodding his head, carefully holding onto your daughter before laying her down on his chest, one of his hands supporting her neck while the other one holds her body close to his.

"Never saw it that way." His voice sounds distant now, yet it's never devoid of affection and love for you. You know him well enough to know he's visiting a graveyard of memories. You lay down next to him, head resting on his shoulder, planting a kiss on his soft jawline.

"She was the best nan. Always spoiling Joseph and buying him anything she thought he'd like... at some point Tommy and Beth were running out of space because he had so many bloody toys." A small chuckle escapes his lips, smiling fondly at the memories of his family before they were taken from him. He felt comfortable enough with you to be able to speak about his family— you were always so patient, waiting years for this.

"They sound lovely." Another kiss to his jawline as you look at your daughter absent-mindedly run her fingers over his tattoo sleeve. It's ironic, to see such an innocent person tracing something meant to be representing of destruction and loss, yet that's what his life is, two sides of the coin that is Simon Riley's past and present. "I'm sure they're watching over you, proud that you have this life."

He gives you a soft grin, planting a kiss on your forehead as he looks out of the window, fingers absent-mindedly caressing your daughter's back while he looks up at the sky. I made it, mum.

Beacon — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Art by the amazing @ave661

"She's kicking." Simon whispers, head delicately laying on your pregnant tummy, feeling the tiny kicks with his face and hands. His eyes are closed, fully focusing on the sensation he has been infatuated with for months.

"It tickles like hell." You comment with a laugh, hand running through his short hair, holding him closer to your body as a content sigh escapes your lips. He chuckles softly at your words, his hand delicately tracing patterns on your stomach while he talks to the baby, whispers you can't even make out.

"Someone's chatty today." You tease and he playfully rolls his eyes, gaze drifting up towards you, ignoring the way his cheeks hurt from smiling ever since he came back to his pregnant wife.

"What're we naming her?" He asks softly, looking completely relaxed as he lays there with you, feeling the baby kick away like the troublemaker you're both sure she'll be.

"I was thinking about giving her your mum's name, if that's okay with you." You tread carefully, tone gentle and soft, knowing fully well just how delicate this topic is. He looks away, expression hardening slightly as he thinks about it. If anyone else saw his face, they'd think he's angry, but you know that face too well— eyebrows furrowed, lips pulled into a straight line, and unblinking eyes looking at a random place in the room. He's deep in thought for what seems like hours, yet it was only seconds before he looked back up at you, gaze immediately softening.

"That'd be nice." Is all he can manage to say at first, heart beating so fast in his chest it feels like it's going to burst out, the memories of his mum are a wound in his soul that never closed.

"Thank you." He speaks softly, eyes closing as he leans the side of his face on your stomach, the baby's tiny feet kicking at his cheek gently. "Thank you for letting me have a piece of her back." Simon Riley thought he cried all his tears away as a child, yet no one can deny the wetness making his eyes sting, dotting his long eyelashes.

nobody understands how you did it.

how you managed to swept him off his feet, breaking the walls he had built pieces by pieces, how the fuck did you get him to be comfortable with you? to be open with you? and only with you.

‘never seen him this happy or loose in a long time, lass. what’s your trick, eh?’ the captain pulls a joke, making the rest of the team laugh. ‘i think I speak for everyone when i say, he never brings a girl out. let alone introducing her to us.’

that one is true. years of being friends with ghost, the captain nor his closest friend ‘soap’ has ever seen him out on a date. they encouraged him though, since there have been so many women tried their ways to get close with the big guy, yet none of them succeed.

the masked men would often just shrug them off and give one hard cold answer. they would back away immediately

“guess i just have my ways” is what you always say. even soap couldn’t register how it happened. he couldn’t figure it out himself, he knows the lad way longer than you do.

they don’t believe you. because there is no way in hell that all you did was to bat your lashes, show him your adorable giggle and he was in. there’s gotta be more to it.

so what is it about you that draws him close? what is it about you that makes ghost’s eyes light up each time you step into the room? what is it about you that makes ghost’s heart skip a beat every time he talks to you?

certainly not because how you’re so patient in getting to know with him, right? not because how you trace his scars ever so lightly and call them pretty every single time he’s doubtful about himself. not because how you console him with ‘I’ve got you, baby’ each night a nightmare comes back to haunt him while rubbing his back soothingly. not because how you shower him with soft, gentle kisses to remind him that your love for him is bigger than anyone could have offered. not because how you understand why he can’t say the three letter words to you, just yet. still, you stick around.

definitely not, right? there’s no way. he’s simon ghost riley. no one or nothing could ever be good enough to make this man come out of his shell. it’s impossible, right? you’ll need a miracle for that.

“love?” you hear a voice calls, along with the sound of keys being tossed into a ceramic bowl. heavy boots thumping against the marble floor,

you step out of the kitchen. long hair tied up into a messy updo, clear frame glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. dressed in one of his favorite sleeping gown as your eyes locked with his brown ones. the balaclava still attached to mask his handsome face.

scarred lips stretch into a smile the moment his beautiful fiancé emerges from the kitchen.

he drops his bag onto the floor, pulling the mask off of him slowly. revealing his disheveled blond hair as he takes slow steps towards you.

“hi, baby” your voice brings him home. no soul could ever take away from him. he longs for that angelic tone each time he gets deployed. three or six months without listening to you speak to him is just insanity.

he’d rather lose his hearing entirely than not having to hear you at all.

he’s quick to embrace you in his arms. your face hiding in the crook of his neck, inhaling that signature scent of his that you had missed, dearly.

“what are you making?” he mumbles into the crown of your hair, giving it a peck before pulling away slightly to take a good look at you. “it smells good”

“your favorite” you kiss his chin, causing his cheeks to redden at the affection. “i even bought those lumpias down the 112th street. i know how much you love them. pretzels bites from the deli for snacks aaand, black pepper beef with rice for your dinner. sounds good?”

simon leans against the doorway as he watches you plate everything. rambling about everything. his smile widens even more at your domestic antics. the way you talk with your hands as you mention another annoying co-worker that keeps bugging you and the way you roll your eyes when a splash of gravy spill from the plate.

truly is a sight.

“why are you looking at me like that?” your lips raise into a curious smile, finger moving a dark lock that sticks into your forehead,

he gives you a small shrug. gaze not leaving you neither does his smile.

“you’re just so beautiful”

something so simple yet it makes your stomach fills with butterflies.

you chew on your lower lip to prevent you from smiling too much, but a hint of blush is dusting your cheeks betrays you.

“come, papi… don’t want the food to get cold now, do we?” you change the subject while you nod your head towards the empty seat across. “eat with me”

the two of you sit there while making a small talk. stealing glances every second. feeding each other’s food. soft laughs fall upon both of your mouths when one make a terrible joke.

something you’d see when two people are in love.

so yes, the answer to that question. it is possible. because you made it possible. you made it possible for him to love again. even if he had to start all over. you made it possible for him to be vulnerable. you gave him a purpose the moment he thought things were looking bad for him.

he found a solace within your existence.

only you made it possible to bring the simon in him.

because you. are his home

Nothing's New...

Can't help but think of:

"You were a wonderful experience.."

"And you were... everything..."

With Sunshine!Reader and Ghost

To you, he may have just been an experience, but you were everything to him. Doing everything he never expected anyone to do. You were new, something different from what his whole life had offered him.

You were safety, you were warmth but most of all.. you were his. You were there when he needed you the most, his safety net. Taking care of him when everyone else was busy fending for themselves. You took care of almost everyone but who took care of you?

Though he never was blatantly obvious, Simon cared. Maybe too much, finding ways to make your life easier or at least make you smile. Simon who took it upon himself to make your safety his priority despite all the risks that come with working along side you.

You meant the world to him, he'd do anything to rewind time. To see you, talk to you and be with you for so much more than he already had in hopes it would be enough.

A petty fucking argument, that's what caused this, it wasn't your fault. It was an accident, yet he called you carelesss. Maybe it was true, what people used to say...

No one would ever truly care if you were gone, you thought about it, how it seemed like they cared very little, how he cared very little. Not bothering to even acknowledge you exist even when you're trying so hard to communicate, he went cold, like he never had before.

You knew 141 cared but not enough, that your disappearance will be easily taken and that at some point they'll replace you and be content there.

if only he can take back the shit he said.. It was too late, the last words he heard from you...

"Bomb my location, Captain.."

Unbeknownst to your static radio, you didn't hear how Simon begged and pleaded Price not to. Never had Price seen Ghost so vulnerable, but that wasn't Ghost, it was Simon.

Those dreaded letters next to your name..

"KIA"

He thought he was used to it by now, but like in old fashion you proved him wrong. Just like how you proved him wrong when he thought he himself was unlovable.

He failed you, he fucking did. Just like everyone else in his life he lost, just a glimpse of it all. You felt like a distant memory, he is never going to be as happy as he was with you. Never again will he see that smile that lifted the world from his shoulders. That's the second time someone left his life... Yet the feeling was far worse..

Nothing's new..

A/n: Apologies to everyone, I wanted to write something good but this seems so half-assed.