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fandom-imagines · 3 years

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Little Miss Favourite

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Teacher!Snape X Legal!Granger!Reader

Warnings: Teacher x student relationship x)

Words: 2.5k

It would be a lie to say that the Granger sisters weren’t incredibly smart, anyone could see it. Whilst Hermione, the younger sibling, was exceptionally talented with spells, Y/N was talented in the art of potion making; not that she wasn’t talented at other things also.

Due to her consistently high scores in potions, Y/N had caught the attention of her favourite teacher: Severus Snape, despite his annoyance towards the younger Granger. Whilst he found Hermione insufferable, Y/N was more than tolerable in his honest opinion; not that he would ever admit that to anyone, maybe not even himself.

Perhaps it was her confident personality, her boldness or her smarts, Severus would never know. Of course, it wasn’t only him that had his attention focused on her, many people did. Those people included Hermione’s friends. Y/N knew this, how could she not? The way Harry did his best to show off whilst Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron got all embarrassed, it was obvious; at least to her. Even though her personalist screamed confident, she wasn’t mean like other people at Hogwarts, not often at least.

“Morning Professor,” her words were sweet as she greeted the dark-haired man, early as always.

“Good morning, Miss Granger,” Snapes tone was kinder than usual, but without it being clear. To anyone else, it would seem normal.

“Got a date for the Yule Ball yet, sir?” Whilst her question was genuine and not flirtatious, Severus couldn’t help but wish it was.

“Why would I bother with something as childish as having a date?”

“I shall take that as a no,”

He could hear the stool she usually seated at drag out from beneath the desk before she seated herself on top of it.

“What about you Miss Granger?” Y/N, who had forgotten what she had previously asked him, was confused at his question. “Surely someone like you must have a date,”

A sight blush ran up her cheeks at his words, eyes wide.

“No sir,” she giggled. “Not interested in anyone that’s asked me.”

Her words caught his attention, eyes glancing towards her for a split second before returning to the work he was marking. It was Harry Potters; he could almost roll his eyes.

“Why is that?”

“Immature men that feel like I should go with them because they’re popular? No thank you, give me a mature and unentitled man any day,”

For the second time in five minutes her words caught his attention, suddenly distracted by what she had said rather than being distracted by Potter’s work.

“I see,”

It wasn’t long until the rest of her class began to pile into the dungeon, taking their usual seats as Fred and George came to sit beside her at their typical desk.

“Morning, Y/N/N,” the greeted in perfect synergy, almost as though it had been rehearsed but she knew better than to expect that and simply laughed.

“We heard something,” Fred began.

“Potter is wanting to ask you to be his date to the Yule Ball.” George finished, the twins laughing at Y/N’s shocked face.

“Please say you’re joking,” she pleaded, desperately hoping that it wasn’t true. “He’s so much younger than me!”

“Oh and Hermione is going with Krum,”

“This day just gets worse and worse,”

“Weasleys, detention.” A harsh voice interrupted their conversation as to be expected.

“But sir!” They groaned, once again in unison. “She was talking too!”

“Not as much as you two.”

The great hall was quiet, everyone there working on their essays, everyone being the fourth years. Fortunately for her, Y/N was allowed to sit and work alongside the younger students having been given permission by Professor Snape himself.

“Hey Y/N,” Harry’s quiet voice pulled her attention away from the parchment in front of her. “I was just wondering-“ His words were soon cut off by a hand shoving his head into his own parchment.

“Silence,”

“Yes, Professor Snape.”

An amused smirk covered Y/N’s lips as she turned her own attention back to the work in front of her that was soon to be finished.

“Later guys,” she shot the trio one last smile as she walked towards Snape, handing him her essay with a small smile, one he almost wished to return.

“I’m sure this will be as excellent as always, Granger.”

“I sure hope so, sir.”

With one final nod, Severus dismissed her.

Music blasted throughout the hall as the Tri-wizard champions begun to dance with their partners. Y/N and her own date, who ended up being George due to both forgetting about the dance until the night before, stood laughing at Ron’s dress robes.

“He looks like our great aunt,” George chuckled, his words making Y/N snort in amusement.

“Poor kid. He looks so embarrassed,” she giggled.

“Well, looks like its our turn to dance. Care to join me, Granger?” George grinned, offering him her hand which she gladly took.

“After you, but can you even dance?”

“Nope,”

“Good, me neither.”

Their dance was horrendous, and they were both glad when the music ended, the pair running off the dance floor in laughter, hands still together.

“That was- “George began, only to have his sentence finished by his dance partner.

“Dreadful?”

“Yeah,”

Their fit of laughter was cut short by another voice joining the conversation. “Nice dancing guys!”

“Shut up, Fred!” This time it was Y/N and George’s turn to speak in unison, something that triggered a smirk to grow on Fred’s lips.

“Alright, alright, calm down you two,”

“I almost feel bad for him,” Fred chuckled, catching George and Y/N’s attention as they followed his gaze.

“I would but he gave us detention and not her, talk about favouritism!”

An idea popped into Y/N’s head, as she removed herself from the twins’ arms.

“Where are you going, Y/N/N?” Fred asked. “Wait are you-“

“I feel bad for him, okay!”

The twins burst into laughter as they realised her plan.

“I bet you my entire allowance that she can’t get him to dance,” Fred whispered as they watched Y/N walking towards Snape.

“You’re on,”

“Evening, Professor,” Y/N greeted, desperately trying her best to not show her nervousness.

“Good evening, Miss Granger,” He returned her greeting, turning his attention fully to her. “Shouldn’t you be with your date?”

“George? No, we both forgot we needed dates, so we went together. He’ll cope on his own,” The girl giggled, glancing back at said man to see both twins smirking at her. “You look lonely, want to dance?”

“Do I look like the sort of person to dance?”

“Do I?” She joked, enjoying the small smirk that pulled up at his lips. “It’ll be one dance and then I’ll let you go back to enjoying your own company. It’s a teacher and student dance anyway!”

“No way…” Fred gasped, watching as Snape and Y/N headed to the dancefloor.

“I knew she could do it! You now owe me your entire allowance,”

“Shit,”

“See it wasn’t too bad, was it, Professor?” Y/N giggled, aware of the fact that everyone had been staring at her dancing with Snape.

“You stepped on my foot at least three times,”

“I said I don’t dance!”

She celebrated a silent victory as Snape shook his head, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“This is true,”

“Welp, I’ll leave you to enjoy your own company again!” The older Granger grinned, giving him one final nod as she headed by to the twins who were still in shock.

“Shut your mouth, Fred. You’ll catch flies,” Y/N smirked, placing her hand on Fred’s chin to shut up mouth that had been open since she managed to convince Snape to dance.

“Did you bewitch him or something?! How on earth did you manage to get him to dance?” George asked in shock.

“Night guys, thanks for the fun time.” She winked, downing the rest of her drink that she had left before leaving the hall to head to bed.

“Miss Granger, you’re late,” Snapes’ words ran throughout the dungeon.

It was strange, how he knew it was her before he had even turned around to face her.

“Sorry Professor, I had a detention.”

“Well now you have another, stay after class.”

“Good luck, Snapes detentions are horrible,” George chuckled, giving Y/N a reassuring pat on the back.

“Yeah, we would know, Miss Favourite,” Fred chimed in with his typical teasing tone.

“Thanks, that makes me feel better. I’ll see you guys later,”

“Good luck.”

The second everyone had left the classroom, Snapes attention was on her.

“So why did you get a detention?” His words were questioning, not malicious. It was almost as though he was genuinely curious.

“I got in a duel,” Y/N shook her head with a slight laugh. “Malfoy was being, well Malfoy. So, yeah.”

A grin covered her lips as Snape shook his head in slight amusement; it was cute in a way.

“Next time don’t get caught, it makes my classes a lot easier,”

“Got ya, Professor,”

“Good, you may leave,”

“That was quick, did he have to leave?” Fred, who had been waiting outside for about two minutes, asked.

“Little miss favourite,” were her only words as she shot Fred a wink, just like she had done at the ball a few weeks ago.

“I swear he has a crush on you or something,”

“Yeah, imagine. Professor Severus Snape developing a crush on a student, nice one George. Why are you two even here?”

The twins, who had been caught red-handed, shared an amused look, quickly rushing into action by grasping Y/N’s arms, tugging her along.

“We need someone to test our latest concoction!” They spoke in unison.

“No, no way! Merlin knows what you’ve put in that!”

“Either you help us, or we’ll tell everyone about your little crush on the potions professor,”

“Fine.”

“Fred and George Weasley, you come here this instance!” Y/N’s voice shrieked, her words echoing throughout the entire Gryffindor common room.

“Run!” Was all she heard, followed by laughter and footsteps leaving through the portrait.

Y/N rushed after them, hell bent on causing as much annoyance to them as they had to her.

“I will kill you!”

“That’s not very nice now, is it? You love us really,” George teased her once more before darting away.

“George Weasley I am faster than you and you know it!”

It wasn’t a lie, Y/N had been, and always will be, faster than him. No matter how many pranks they had to run away from, the twins would never be able to outrun her.

“What have you done to my hair?!” Y/N demanded to know the second she caught both boys by the collar of their robes. “Please say this comes out, I don’t want my hair to be yellow and green forever, I hate it!”

“Well you see, Y/N/N,” Fred chuckled with a hint of nervousness. “We don’t know, you’re our first consumer!”

“Fred, I am begging you, I look like a lollipop.”

“I’m sure you taste as sweet as one too, Y/N,” a Slytherin by-passer commented, clearly having heard the entire conversation.

“Shut th-“

“Detention and ten points from Slytherin,”

Fred, George and Y/N shared a terrified look as Professor Snape stood behind the trio.

“Trying a new style are we, Granger? It is quite bold,” despite the blunt words, there was an almost undetectable teasing tone laced in his words.

“Not willingly, Professor,”

“Then why did you do it?”

“They blackmailed me!”

“With what?”

The twins smirked at each other, as though they were sent on a mission to ruin her day.

“She has a crush, Professor,” George smirked at the, now multi-coloured haired, girl.

“George Weasley!” In a swift movement, Y/N rushed towards the ginger, only to be stopped by a hand holding her robe. “Professor let me go!”

“Isn’t she cute, Fred?”

“Adorable, George,”

“I hate you both.” Y/N, who had accepted her fate of being held my Snape (which didn’t seem too bad in all honesty), sighed.

“You love us really,”

“You wish, Fredrick.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“If you three have quite finished,” Snape interrupted their quarrel. “I think I know how to remove that colour from your hair, Miss Granger. Follow me.” There was no room for debate as the potions master turned and rushed towards his classroom.

“I’ll kill you,” Y/N mouthed before rushing after him.

“Sit,” Snape said, lightly kicking a stool out towards Y/N before walking towards a cupboard that, she assumed, had potions or at least ingredients for them.

“Are you sure this will work, Professor? I really don’t want anyone else to see me like this,”

“You mean you don’t want your crush to see you like this?” He said with a raised eyebrow.

“He already has,” her words were a mere murmur, but it was one Severus had heard.

“The Slytherin?” Snape asked whilst he grabbed a weird looking liquid. “Here drink.”

“Merlin, no. I don’t even know who that was. This tastes disgusting,”

“Do you want the colour gone or not?”

“Sorry,”

Snape let out a small sigh, his arms crossing by habit.

“Potter, perhaps?”

“Are we playing guess the crush or something?”

“Well, we have time. This needs a second dose in around thirty minutes,”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to sigh.

“It’s probably not a good idea to play this game with me,” she joked. “I’m quite competitive,”

“You would have done well in Slytherin,”

“I doubt it,”

“Under me you would have done brilliantly. You are doing brilliantly already.”

A bright red blush ran up Y/N’s cheeks at his use of words.

“You should be careful what you say, Professor. Someone might interpret your words wrong,”

“That someone being you?”

“Perhaps,”

“I see.”

An awkward silence filled the air, something that was uncommon between the pair.

“I’m sorry, that was a bit straight-forward,”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Sorry,”

“Don’t be,”

Whilst his reply was short, the words caught her attention, her head spinning to face him.

“Don’t be?”

“I said what I said.” Came his simple response.

“I don’t understand,”

“Maybe little miss favourite should do some thinking,”

“Oh…” She whispered. “Oh! Here I am thinking I’m just a teacher’s pet,”

He smiled slightly. “Not quite, Miss Granger,”

Footsteps echoed throughout the dungeon as he walked towards Y/N, his fingers lightly pushing against her chin to bring her to face him, her cheeks as red as flames.

“So, I’m your little miss favourite?”

“Clearly,”

808 notes · View notes

potter-imagines · 3 years

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Not Like The Movies (Fred Weasley)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: Fred Weasley imagine where him and Angelina are kind of “talking” but the reader and Angelina are really good friends and she doesn’t know that there “talking” so when Angelina tells her, she seems okay with it, “it’s not like I’ve liked him since first year.” And since she’s on the quidditch team, she kind of drops out. And starts to hung out more with Cedric and that’s when Fred gets jealous and realizes it was never Angelina but the reader. the whole reason he liked Angelina was because of some letters she gave him but she never wrote them, the reader did...Happy ending with Fred and reader.

Warning: None, just swearing and lil angst

Word Count: 11.7k (got carried away, soooo sorry)

Falling in love with your best friend was nothing short of a curse for you. Sadly, life was not like the movies and sometimes, the person you’re in love with just simply does not feel the same. Movies promised you magic. Laughing and crying, music swelling, camera panning, and always a happy, or satisfying ending. Late at night when you would fall asleep, the image of your best friend would flash across your mind, encapsulating your subconscious. You pictured him lying beside you, telling you jokes and holding you in his arms. You dreamed about what it was like to be his, to call him yours. You thought about how it would feel as he gently strokes your cheek with his palm and his lips find yours. The camera sweeps and falls. We fade to black and everytime, your eyes open from your sleep and the movie comes to an end.

Having grown up with the boy and his twin, falling in love was the easy part; admitting your feelings became the obstacle. It put a slight wedge between your friendship with Fred. You hated how easy it was to fall for him. His stupid laugh, stupid smile, stupid heart, stupid kindess, everything about him was so stupidly loveable.

Although Fred didn’t exactly give you reasons to not feel this way. In actuality, Fred Weasley made it nearly impossible not to fall in love with him. It started with meeting you in the common room each morning and escorting you around the castle, sometimes with George but mostly alone. He’d ‘jokingly’ hold your hand, swinging it widely back and forth as you skipped down the halls. During Qudditch, his attention always trailed off the tracks to you, even when he was miles up in the sky flying around. His eyes would dart to you, just to confirm that you were okay. He was your go to study buddy- although it would typically consist of whispering jokes and talking about your day, rather than studying. Fred was always the one to invite you to his home for break, not that his other siblings didn’t want you, Fred just wanted to be the one who got to ask you. During parties in the common room, you were glued to his side. Fred would toss his arm around your shoulder casually as you sat with your friends. He’d cuddle you on the couch while you chatted away with your friends. You two were never safe from the teasing of your friends, especially George. George Weasley had been pawning for you and his brother to get together since his second year.

Now, there was never an official title given to your uh, predicament. This didn’t mean that people weren’t aware of what was occurring. Hell, even Ron was in on the loop. So, it wasn’t hard for everyone else in the Gryffindor common room to comprehend your shock and anger when you walked in only to find Fred Weasley practically snogging Angelina Johnson on the main couch. Your mouth dropped instantly and your eyes were bugging. And everyone was looking between the pair, and your sudden entrance.

You felt like the ringleader at a circus and all the audience had their eyes on you, the crowd consisting of your few friends who knew your feelings. The voice in your head screamed at you to take action- to go rip Angelina off Fred’s lap and toss her to the ground. It was a vile urge, one that never popped in your thoughts before now. Burning holes into their heads you narrowed your gaze as Angelina snaked her arm around Fred’s broad shoulder, leaning her body into the touch. As if it was second nature, Fred’s arm slipped around her wait, snatching her body forward with a cheeky wink. Your mouth went dry, sahara desert dry. The inside of your stomach coiled into tight knots, a sickening sensation budding. An echoing scream filled your mind, yelling at you to look away, just look away Y/n. Something building, maybe curiosity or maybe disbelief, simply wouldn’t allow this.

Hermione pulled at your hand, silently begging you to walk away with her. You hear the sound of her demanding voice whispering to you, although you neglected to process them. Neither Fred nor Angelina seemed to notice all the attention- if they did, they did a good job hiding it. An indescribable mix of emotion brewed; Angelina Johnson was your close friend next to Hermione. Since first year, she has been your roommate, your potions partner, a chaser just like you, and an amazing friend. She even spent a month of the summer holiday at your home, for crying out loud! You wanted to be angry, you wanted so bad to just scold Angelina and tell her how bad the sight was before you hurt to watch, but you couldn’t. Despite your solid friendship, Angelina was never informed on the feelings you had developed for Fred. In second year you had confessed to her that you had a small crush on the twin, but nothing else ever came. Of course you didn’t know Angelina had liked Fred either. Angelina, Fred, George, and yourself were all in the same school year and house so naturally a friendship arose. As years dwindled on, Angelina drifted away a bit and started spending more time with Alicia Spinott and Katie Bell. You still made time for each other- not to mention living together and spending at least a few hours each day together.

But when Angelina shifted groups, it left you room to grow closer with Fred and George. By your third year, Lee had filled in Angelina’s spot and the four of you raked havoc among Hogwarts. Lee Jordan was a great friend, he always let you sit up in the announcing booth during Quidditch matches when Gryffindor wasn’t playing. In those cases, he was vocally cheering you on through the microphone as you raced around the pitch. When it came to Fred and George, there was a different type of bond you created. You had spent nights on end sprawled around the dorm room of the Weasley twins, chatting about everything and nothing for hours. They invited you in on their pranks, showed you their prized Marauders Map, brought you to The Burrow for holidays, bought you presents for Christmas/birthdays, visited you during the summer, and more. The three of you always sat together in class, sometimes making Lee move a table over. It was always the three of you. Somewhere along the way, you started looking at one twin in particular in a different light. Both were handsome, but something about Fred made your heart race. Everytime his hand brushed against your during class, an electric tingle shot through your spine. He was protective over you, in a brotherly way you assumed, but it was sweet nonetheless. Even during matches Fred always kept an eye out for you on the Quidditch pitch. Never did he miss the chance to gloat about how he basically saved your life three different times. After a long day of class, the two of you would sometimes cuddle on the couch in the common room or in his dorm while talking with George. It was a running joke among your friends about the two of you dating. George loved to tease you two, making kissy faces and telling the two of you to ‘get together already’. George was certainly not the first, nor only, person to make such comments to Fred and yourself. Hermione asked weekly when you would start dating, Harry would question every so often, Ginny asked every hour when you’d get married, and Ron hardly paid enough attention to notice anything occurring.

Pestering and prodding, their questions remained unanswered. You never quite knew what to say, but George, Hermione, Ginny, and even Harry, knew. They kept silent in your presence. Behind closed doors, they seemed to have figured it out. Ron was present for all this but once again, he really didn’t care much to give an overload of input. He wasn’t too interested though and only came to feel a part of the discussion.

The person they couldn’t figure out was Fred Weasley. For the first time in his life, George couldn’t give a solid answer on how his twin was feeling. Typically, George always knew. He was certain Fred had fancied you when they were younger but now in your sixth year, it was hard for him to tell. The two of you had been flirting for years and even though it increased with every year, no actual moves ever came. George wondered if it truly was just flirting in Fred’s mind. Everytime he tiptoed near the topic of Fred’s feelings for you and if he had any, Fred shut it down in an instant. He’d tell George to ‘sod off’ and refused to speak on it. It gave George jumbled ideas.

So when Hermione came up with the idea of you spilling your feeling for Fred in an anonymous letter, it was an appealing thought. George toyed with the plan, a strange pang pulling in his guts told him this was a bad idea. He didn’t know why, but George was scared something would go wrong. He still hadn’t gotten a proper grasp on Fred’s feelings yet. If there was even a chance Fred would decline your confession of heart, George would feel terribly guilty for setting you up to fall. Harry sat this conversation out with Ron, not feeling like it was his place to be this involved. Ginny was in agreement with Hermione, of course, but George kept pushing for them to rethink. Although it was too late, you were already mentally planning a letter.

A week later you nervously handed George a small envelope. Inside was a folded up piece of parchment and in black ink was the words of your emptying out your heart to Fred. You dedicated a small poem to him, then on another page, you dropped small hints about your identity. You included memories, such as meeting on the Hogwarts Express, playing Quidditch together, trips to Hogsmeade, late nights talk, and more. Part of you hoped he solved the mystery right away. The larger part of you crossed your fingers that he felt the same way.

Taking your letter, George was sweating in fear. He had never been so unsure of his brother’s reaction in his life. There were many different ways this could go; the main two being either really really well, or really really bad. For some reason, George was leaning towards the latter.

Hermione on the other hand insisted Fred felt the same. She could sense it, whatever that means. You knew your friend was the most brilliant witch of your time, but she seemed wrong about this one. And now, as you stood staring at your roommate and best friend snuggled up on the couch you were just cuddling with him on last week, Hermione most definitely seemed to be wrong about this one.

Before you got the chance to see Fred and Angelina take their exchanges any further, a tall frame stepped in front of you, blocking your path of sight. Tilting your head up you were met with the soft, pitiful eyes of George Weasley. The other half of your trio reached out and held your shoulders in his hands, gripping your focus.

“We need to talk.”

Hermione followed George up to her door without creating any commotion. They didn’t want to catch anyone’s attention who would question their exit, especially Fred or Angelina. Speaking of which, Hermione led you and George to her dorm as it seemed to be the only chance of you not having to face either of the pair. Slamming the door with a huff, Hermione spun around and pointed to the tall Weasley shifting awkwardly.

“So what the bloody hell was that, George?” Hermione cut through the tension with her sharp words. You refused to meet either of their eyes. The lazer like study of George melting into the side of your head. Your friend slugged over to the bed across from Hermione’s and plopped down. A heavy, tiresome, sigh fell from his lips.

“I just found out last night- I had no clue until Fred told me last night. She was leaving and… I’m just as lost as you guys.”

“What about the letter?” Hermione crossed her arms, starting over at George in anticipation.

“Lee told Fred ‘bout how he saw Angelina by our dorm earlier last week so Fred thinks she’s the one who wrote the letter. Guess it made him interested in her- I don’t know if he asked her about them or not but I guess they went out last week and now they’re… a thing? I don’t know, I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know what to say, he just told me about it right before you came in. I wouldn’t have let you walk in that otherwise- Y/n I swear on that.” Shaking your head, you could feel the emotions bottling up to a spillage. Running a hand over your reddening face you expressed,n

“I know, George. It’s not your fault, I’m not mad at you, I could never. Just mad at the situation. I was stupid to think it would work between us.”

Hermione sat on the end of her bed, her eyes glaring out the window. Her head snapped in your direction. Mouth crack open ajar, her angry expression turned to disbelief and guilt. Shaking her head back and forth she exclaimed,

“It was my idea for you to write the letter, Y/n. I’m the one who should be apologizing for getting you into this mess-”

“No really, it’s not your guys fault. It’s no ones. If Fred likes Angelina then, he likes Angelina. I can’t change that and telling him I was the one who wrote the letter certainly won’t change that either. Love fucking sucks!” You shouted. George’s hands fumbled in his lap as he desperately tried to avoid your frame. He wasn’t sure he could handle the image. To George, the responsibility lay upon his shoulders but his heart suddenly broke into million tiny pieces when he registered the small sobe choking out. The tears uncontrollably began to roll. You covered your mouth as you fell back into the bed sheets. Salty tears streamed down your cheeks, skipping down the skin. They poured from the side of her skin, splashing against the blanket underneath her.

The familiar grip of George wrapped around your body in an instant. Hermione attached herself as well, the two of them comforting you together. It was soothing to feel his hands rubbing against your back, and Hermione’s head resting on your shoulder.

“Y/n, no, no, please don’t cry, love. Please- shit Y/n, I’m so sorry.” You slumped into their arms, allowing their hugs.

George decided to stay for a few hours. The three of you just laid in Hermione’s bed chatting quietly about everything and anything except Fred Weasley. They made an effort to weave every conversation away from that danger zone. George placed a pillow in his lap, allowing you a seat for your head. Hermione’s bed wasn’t big enough for the three of you to sit spaciously so, he made do. Besides, George was your best friend so it was far more natural for him to cuddle with you than Hermione. He was sure Ron would have an earful for him if that was the case. Hermione sat with her back against the bed frame similar to George. His hands petted your hair delicately, lulling you into a deep sleep. Exhaustion from tears and disappointment, your slumber arrived quickly. As your light snores bounced off the stone walls of Hermione’s dorm room, she nudged George. He looked over in a second with a curious gaze.

“Does he really like her? Angelina?” She whispered the words so faint, they almost went unnoticed to George.

“I don’t know, Hermione. I mean… he’s my bloody twin and never has he ever even mentioned finding her attractive let alone wanting to date her. It’s all just… shocking. I should get going soon, though. Catch him before he goes to bed and maybe then I can get some answers.” George slowly lifted from the bed. He set his hand behind your head for support as he moved the pillow. As light as a feather, he placed your head down on the pillow and backed away as quiet as a mouse. The clock was approaching two in the morning and his heavy lids were starting to collapse. It wasn’t a terrible walk to his room, but it also wasn’t lightning speed. His sleepiness was taking over and if he fell asleep in Hermione’s bed with both her and you, he’d be expelled before sunrise, no matter the circumstance.

Hermione nodded and slipped down so she was laying in her bed. She

“Alright, George. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Taking a step out the door, the tall boy stuck his head back

“You want me to carry her up to her room?” He asked kindly. Hermione looked up at him, clearly doubtful on his offer. “For some reason, I don’t think Y/n will be too pleased to wake up in the same room as Angelina.” They both laughed, careful not to wake you. George mentally face palmed.

“Right. Can’t say that doesn’t make sense. Uh, goodnight, Hermione. Thanks for staying with her.” George mumbled awkwardly. The young witch just smiled and waved to him.

“Of course. Goodnight, George.”

By the time George had trudged back to his room, Fred was passed out, sleeping on top of his blankets instead of under, so George decided to hold off on setting his twin right. As he fell asleep, his thoughts worried about you. He was scared you would hide yourself away, detach from him in order to keep distance from his twin. George considered you to be his best friend, and having you hurt by the actions of his brother made him feel like shit. He found himself praying to whatever god might be listening that when the sun peaked up behind the darkness, you would be okay. Although when morning came, no one could find you. Hermione informed George that you had sneaked out early when the sun rose and she had yet to see you since.

Fred stumbled down the steps and into the common room around noon, rubbing his eyes in a groggy state. His feet dragged across the floor resembling more of a zombie than a human. Just as he entered, George, Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing from the leather sofa heading for the portrait. Ron was the one who noticed Fred and happily invited him along for their lunchtime run. This earned an overdramatic roll of the eyes from Hermione and an awkward wince from Harry. The not so subtle gesture made Fred tilt his head. Nonetheless, he agreed, placing himself at George’s side and giving him a side hug.

The five took off for the dinning hall, making small talk as they went.

George’s jaw hit the floor as he waltzed into the Great Hall only to find you sitting at the end of the Hufflepuff table with Cedric Diggory. He stood, the wind knocked out of him in utter astonishment. Based on the events of the night before, he was expecting you to be still cuddled into Hermione’s bed, or eyes brimming with tears, but you were the exact opposite. A bright, million dollar smile shined from your face. George could hear your laughter from the adjacent direction of the dinning hall. Cedric was sitting beside you, his arms resting on the table as his eyes gazed at you. Everyone knew you guys were friends but it was more, acquaintances or classmates rather than best friends. He pondered if this was your act of retaliation against Fred getting with Angelina- or maybe you truly were trying to move on. No matter the reality, George knew this wasn’t just two friends catching up, and if that was the case, you two had a weird way of showing it.

The sight made a large grin creep to Hermione’s lips. Harry and Ron were completely lost in translation as to why you were sitting with him and Fred, well Fred was livid. So livid the shade of his cheeks was an exact match to the shade of his hair, and everyone saw it. He stopped walking and, quite loudly, choked on the thick air of the room. Some looked over at the sound, intrigued George kicked at the back of his shoe, signaling Fred to keep walking. He obliged, but his focus stayed trained on you and Cedric. At their movement, he slowly lifted his head and was greeted with the fiery eyes of Fred. A teasing smirk hit his lips which only made the fire burning inside Fred blaze harder. Cedric leaned down softly to whisper in your ear, his words making your turn to glance at your friends. You sent them a wave, then turned back to Cedric. You’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t bring you a slight joy to see the visible reaction of Fred.

George dragged his brother to the Gryffindor table, practically shoving him into a seat. He sat down next to him as the rest of the group took the seats around them. All their friends were staring at Fred, waiting for his next move.

Smacking his fist on the tabletop in vexation, Fred fumed,

“Is… is that Y/n and Diggory? That’s Y/n and fucking Diggory!”

George met his brother with a deadpan expression.

“Thanks, Fred, couldn’t tell. I mean, they have been friends since our second year.” He muttered. Although this was true, you only recently started talking again. Cedric was popular among students at Hogwarts so as the years trialed on, it became harder and harder to keep a close bond with him. You never had a nasty falling out- you still waved and smiled at each other during class and in the halls, you just stopped spending your free time together as often. Cedric was constantly with his little group of friends and you were rarely disconnected from Fred and George’s hips.

But when he saw you wandering the halls, tear strokes staining your cheeks, he rekindled the friendship with his natural kindness. Wordlessly, Cedric halted his journey to the Great Hall and kneeled down in front of you, asking you what was the matter. Blame it on the lack of sleep or the heightened emotions, you spilled your emotions and confessed everything to him. His presence felt nostalgic and comfortable, it felt like the old days. After crying to him for sometime, Cedric offered to keep you company for the day.

He showed you around the greenhouse, pointing out which ones he planted and all his favorites. You then took him to the Great Lake where you walked around for an hour and shared what you had missed from each other’s lives. It was exactly what you needed to feel a little better for a while. You guys ended your trip down memory lane, and survey of the grounds, in the Great Hall, Cedric’s original destination. He invited you to sit with him and, not wanting to sit alone, you kindly tagged along. Since then, the two of you hadn’t left your spot at the Hufflepuff table. When Cedric saw your friends walking in, he decided to do you a favor and scoot a little closer, purposely making Fred twitch from the opposite side of the room.

Scoffing heavily, Fred lifted his eyebrow and motioned to Cedric and yourself.

“When the bloody hell have they ever sat together- I mean look at how fucking close they are! He’s basically on top of her… I should go see if she’s okay-” Pushing himself up from the table, a quick hand grasped at his side, snagging him back down with a thump. “No, Fred. Just let her be, she had a rough night.” The snarky cut sounded from Hermione. The curly haired girl gave a sneer to Fred, irritated soaking through her words.

“What happened? I never even saw her come in last night.”

“And why’s that?” Hermione asked, head cocked to the side, daring Fred to reply. But when he didn’t say anything, she huffed and continued, “She went to bed right after she got in- uh, I think she said something about an essay or exam. Can’t remember.”

An awkward silence took over, no one else wanting to speak up. George was scrapping around his lunch, taking small bites as he waited for someone to change the topic. Fred glared once more over to you then begrudgingly stated,

“Guess I’ll just have to ask her about it at practice tomorrow. She seems occupied.” The green-eyed monster had fully awakened in Fred. He contemplated strutting right over and yanking you away from Cedric. His blood boiled, envy tainting his circulation. A small part of Fred was beginning to believe you had feelings for him as well- well that was until now. Now, he knew you didn’t and it ripped his heart in two.

Sucking in his cheeks, Fred’s teeth toyed and bit at the skin. His knuckles remained clenched and his eyes cold.

A new group of students made their way into the Great hall, with them, Angelina Johnson.

“Hey Fred.” Angelina was smiling, a sickeningly sweet smile that made the skin under her eyes crinkle. Hermione noticed the unfamiliar tint of peach kissing her lips. She rolled her eyes, annoyance growing at Angelina putting in the extra effort to look nice for Fred. She never wore makeup, and Hermione had to resist the urge to throw her glass of water on the girl’s face. Although younger than you, Hermione was extremely protective of you as you were with her. She was your closest girlfriend and Hermione was not about to let Angelina stomp all over you.

Fred Weasley broke his gaze from you to turn to Angelina. A fake smirk hit his face as he greeted her.

“Angelina, hi.” Ron and Harry listened in, trying to act like they weren’t paying attention. They weren’t huge on drama like this- it was a lose lose for Ron to get involved seeing as Fred was his older brother. Harry preferred to remain in his own conflict- Merlin knows he had a laundry list of those.

The older Gryffindor girl had her hand in her hair, fingers twisting a strand absentmindedly. Instead of dressing down for the sluggish Sunday, Angelina had on a tight red and black plaid skirt, and a tight, slightly unbuttoned white long sleeve.

“I was wondering, you wanna go back to the common room with me? Thought we could hangout for a while.” Leaning to her hip, a seductive gleam twinkled in her eyes. Ron could feel the gag creeping up his throat. Everyone, even Fred, had to hold back from scoffing at the girl. Right as Fred went to decline her proposal, his eyes drew over to you. The resentment and fury hit his bloodstream again when he saw Cedric leaning in so close that his lips were almost brushing your cheeks. He narrowed in on you moving towards his touch, the laughter that cascaded from your lips at his whispers. Out of spite, Fred grinned up at Angelina and nodded his head.

“Sure,” Fred propped his hands on either side of the table, lifting himself up, “I’ll see you guys later.” He commented before taking off with Angelina out of the Great Hall. George pushed the food around on his plate, trying to think of a way to make things right. He hated having his two best friends in a standoff, one that his dim twin seemed to not even understand. Looking up, George saw your eyes watching Fred and Angelina leaving the hall, hand-in-hand.

Cedric reached out for your hand, giving it a tight squeeze in an attempt to distract you. His hands were warm in your cold grip and the comfort was slim. If it were Fred’s hands in your own, maybe it would feel different. Resting your head on the wooden table, Cedric could barely make out your sorrowful mumble.

“See, I told you. He’s not interested.”

The kind Hufflepuff shook his head, the sandy brown locks in his hair swinging as he did. To him, it was obvious. Maybe it was a guy thing, but Cedric could feel the heat fuming off Fred from the other side of his room. It was obvious to him that seeing you and Cedric so close together, got under his skin.

Setting his fork down, Cedric wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side.

“Y/n, darling, that is the exact opposite as not interested- he’s only leaving with her because he got jealous that you’re with me! You can’t tell me all that glaring and pouting and red face was because he’s ‘not interested’ in you.” You sat stunned at his words, not having a comeback ready at all. He made a valid point- one that infected your thoughts. Was Fred actually upset that you were with Cedric? No, you declared, he had Angelina, why would he care about who you were with. An answer for Cedric still hadn’t come so you shrugged to him, and started digging into the food on your plate.

A hearty, childlike, chuckle eliminated from Cedric as he gave you one last side hug,

“See, I told you.” He mocked teasingly. You glared at him playfully then glanced over at the Gryffindor table. George Weasley had already turned towards you, silently pleading for you to come over. You mentioned to the east entrance of the dinning hall, signaling for him to meet you there. Excusing yourself politely from Cedric, you promised to return later in the evening, telling him you needed to take care of some business. He of course sweetly obliged, waving to you as you left his table, then joined up with his friends.

George jogged off after you, quickly meeting you outside of the hall. Before you could say hello, he was already diving in.

“You’re mad, woman. Absolutely mad! Do you see how angry Fred was? Cause I was sitting at him and he was incensed! I swear- he was about to leap over there and fight Cedric!” George’s hollar rang to the tippy top of the Astronomy tower. Passerbys leered nosily, wanting a taste of the gossip. Shoving George lightly, you started walking towards the Gryffindor side of the castle with him on your tail.

“Doesn’t matter- he’s with Angelina.” You stated. As much as you wanted the conversation to vanish, George wasn’t about to let you go that easy. Following by your side, an ear shattering laugh came from George.

“Y/n, he only went to hangout with her because he was livid about you and Cedric!”

The traffic in the hall was overwhelming. For a Sunday, there sure were a lot of students roaming the halls. The younger students basically ogled over the two of you as you passed by. First and second year Gryffindors always thought of the Weasley twins and gods for their notorious pranks, and by association, you as well. A group of first year Gryffindor students were crowded around the Cobblestone Courtyard, trying to sneak points and stares at you two. George and you waved over to the boys, their eyes widening at your gestures, but returning a shaky wave back nonetheless. You both continued walking, trying to keep the conversation as light as possible. “Whatever, George.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you sent him a pointed look, stopping dead in your tracks. Turning to a softer tone you asked, “Would you do me a small favor?”

His eyes squinting, George flattened his lips into a thin line.

“What kind of a favor?”

“Just come to McGonagall’s office with me and I’ll explain on the way.” You insisted. Having nothing better to do and wanting to probe your brain for a bit longer, George agreed. However when you made it to the tower of the teacher's offices, he started to regret coming along. The two of you climbed your way up to the fourth floor, and George’s mouth went dry to the bone when you started knocking on the door of Professor McGonagall. Dots started to connect and before George had the chance to stop you, McGonagall’s door creaked open and the beloved Professor

“Miss. Y/l/n, Mr. Weasley, what can I do for the two of you? You didn’t explode a laboratory again, did you?” The tiredness in her voice was noticeably as she prepared herself to deal with the consequences of your reckless pranks. Instead, you reassured her by shaking your head.

“No, Professor, not this time. I was wondering if I could speak to you about leaving the Quidditch team?”

“What?” Both McGonagall and George asked in unison. The seriousness in your gaze answered their questions. McGonagall gave you a bewildered look, not expecting your request in the slightest. George couldn’t move. His feet were cemented to the floor- not giving a single budge. Ever since you were age qualified for tryouts, Fred, George, and you had been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Your third year you were all starters and it hasn't changed since. Everyone could agree, even your opponents, that you were the top chaser in the school, next to a seventh year Ravenclaw boy. You were faster than most, strategic, quick on your feet, and were an excellent flyer.

George went to pull for your hand, destined to make you rethink. But you moved your hand away before your skin touched. He couldn’t think of the words to yell at you to stop, for once in his life. McGonagall flicked her eyes between you two, then stepped to the side, opening her office door.

“Come in, dear- both of you, come in.”

On Monday evening, the Gryffindor Quidditch team was pooled together on the pitch making conversation before practice started. Angelina Johnson stood a few feet from, giggling and whispering with Alicia and Katie. The girls would glance over to the twins every few seconds, then giggle turning back to each other. As time passed on, Fred found it quite annoying. He wasn’t dating Angelina although he wondered if that was clear to her. For the last week and a half, the pair had been sneaking around the castle, snogging in dark corridors, flirting during practice, getting handsy during class and sitting awfully close to one another in the common room. To Fred, he was just having fun and if he was being honest, it was getting a bit boring but he felt that Angelina deserved a chance.

When he found the heartfelt letter on his bed, he felt he owed it to Angelina to at least give it a try. The way she poured her heart to him on paper- it made him feel special, cared about. Fred couldn’t say with one hundred present confidence that the writer was Angelina, but Lee Jordan was certain it was her.

Although he had been devoting most of his time to hanging out with Angelina and trying to sort out if he had any feelings, Fred noticed a change in you. After that night in the common room, seeing you became a rare occurrence. No longer did Fred walk you to and from class, Cedric did now, and sometimes George. Fred almost had a heart attack the first time he spotted you walking through the corridors with Cedric Diggory close to your hip. That was four days ago and since then, the two of you still hadn’t really spoken.

Fred kicked at the grass and sand surrounding his feet. He didn’t have the motivation nor the energy to flirt with Angelina when his mind was stuck on you. He hated the jealousy that took over when he saw you with Cedric, but he couldn’t shake the image. The sound of his younger brother shouting brought Fred back to reality. George had been standing by his side, but he had been far too quite as well. It made Fred feel like he was going crazy- like he was left out on whatever had been consuming George and yourself. He was distressed over the situation, but Ron’s screeching was too distracting to come up with any solutions. Fred peeked over to his brother as Ron demanded,

“Where’s Y/n? She’s our top Chaser- where the bloody hell is she?” Ron was frantically scanning the pitch for you. Walking up from behind the group, Oliver Wood announced his arrival with an annoyed, and irritated voice.

“McGonagall let me know this morning that y/l/n will not be joining us for the rest of the year. Guess she was falling behind in classes and McGonagall and she felt it was best to quit the team… I don’t agree, but I can’t do anything.” He clutched his broom in his left hand, nearly snapping the wood in half. Everyone crowded around could feel the anger radiating off Oliver. His lips were pressed in a stern line, and his body was stiff as a board. The rest of the team shifted under his heated glare. Oliver had a way of killing with his eyes and the baffled Gryffindor players could sense it was going to be one long practice.

Giving the team one last overlook, Oliver pivoted on his back foot and stomped off. The rest of the group exchanged quizential gleams, separate groups of chatter running amuck.

Fred could hear Alicia and Angelina talking about you. You were the third party to their line of Chasers- they had no idea what to do without you on the team anymore.

“What? She never told me that.” Angelina Johnson crossed her arms in thought, puzzled by the entire announcement. If you were behind in classes, why hadn’t you told her? Leaning her weight on her hip, Angelina looked over the twins. She knew the three of you were best friends, so she assumed they’d have answers. Fred was already looking over to her, only for some sort of answers as to why you quit. Burrowing her eyebrows, she sent him a question leer. She was just as left in the dark as he. Suddenly, a light bulb flicked in a flare. Fred turned to his twin, who was far too quiet, meaning he already knew.

“Y/n tell you she was quitting?” It was more a demand than a question, but Fred still wanted to hear George admit it. Awkwardly, George scratched at the skin of his neck. It was such an uncomfortable situation for him to be stuck in the middle of, but he loved both of you and it hurt him to see you hurt. George shrugged, switching his broom between his hands.

“Yeah, I went with her to go talk to McGonagall, I told her not to but y’know how stubborn she is. Had her mind set.” He confessed. George kept checking for their captain, for the first time he was eager for practice to begin. He didn’t care if Oliver was going to take his frustrations of you leaving the team out on them- he just wanted the conversation between himself and Fred to be over. Flying 100 laps around the pitch in one cycle was much more appealing than standing there any longer. Although his twin wasn’t about to let him slide that easy. Taking a step forward Fred seethed,

“Wait, she asked you to come with her? She didn’t even tell me anything about leaving the team. Also didn’t say anything about Diggory...” His tone was a mix of shock and jealousy. The envy dripping from his words was harsh. The white bones of his knuckles peaked out from beneath his skin as his fists clenched at his sides. This caught George’s attention but not in a positive light.

It made him tick in an unfamiliar way. To George, even though Fred was his twin, he didn’t have the right to be upset with him for being your shoulder. Yes, Fred didn’t know what exactly was going on, but he knew something was up. He had to have some sort of inkling and it irritated George that Fred was mad at him.

Scoffing deeply, George threw it right back at him,

“Not like you’ve even been around that much lately. Seems like you’ve been a bit,” His eyes shot over to one particular Chaser, then again to his twin. “Busy. Didn’t tell her about that one either, I assume.” Cold were his words and his face twisted in a scowl. Eyes wide as the moon, Fred gestured to the girl standing next to her friends.

“Angelina?” He asked in surprise. As dumbfounded as his brother seemed, George’s annoyance only extended at an alarming rate. Oliver rented the pitch and was trudging over to the group. Shaking his orange locks George scrunched his nose.

“I mean, did you tell Y/n about whatever the hell this is going on between Angelina and you. Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t tell you shit when you don’t tell her either.” He spat jarringly. The tension was boiling between the two of them and Fred was lost as to why. Stepping away, he lifted his hands in defense. “Woah, where did the attitude come from? I don’t even know what I did, George. It’s not like Y/n will even glance in my direction lately. Help me out.”

Fred was completely disconcerted, pleading to his brother with his eyes to give him some guidance. It was unlike George to keep things from his twin, and Fred needed to get to the bottom of it. Why would you confide in George? To Fred, the two of you were always a bit closer than George and yourself. There were different boundaries, different normalities between you and each twin. A weird conjunction of irk and bitterness brewed inside him. “For some reason, I don’t believe that. You know, Fred, Angelina didn’t write that letter.” His words struck Fred like a bus. Nearly giving himself whiplash, Fred snapped his sharp eyes to George as his mouth parted open. George’s focus remained on their captain who was nearing. The matter-of-fact tone to his voice had Fred even more confused. Grabbing his brother by the shoulder to force his attention, Fred gasped.

“What-” An abrupt hollar from the Gryffindor captain rang out causing the team to quiet down and look over to Oliver. With a gruff expression, Wood wasted no time diving into instructions.

“Okay everyone, gather ‘round. First piece of business, Katie, you’ll be taking over for Y/n, second piece of business…”

Fred drowned out the sound of Oliver moaning on as his mind raced to the letter. His brain repeated the sweet words over and over again. There was an extremely slim pool of people who could know all those things about him, and some of it, Fred was almost positive Angelina didn’t know. Yes, he met her his first year, but Angelina didn’t know Fred was afraid of the dark. She had no idea he hated socks. That was something he shared with you over winter break when the harsh winter forced him to wear the constricting material on his feet. Didn’t know about the scar on his knee he got last summer when Fred, George and yourself went exploring in the woods and he fell into a hunting trap. You knew all these things- but if you were the true author, Fred was almost certain you would’ve said something by now… right? That’s what made the whole situation so frustrating to him. He thought about asking Angelina, getting a straight forward response but if she did say no, what was he supposed to do. If Angelina didn’t write the letter, then who did? Did the prank king himself fall for a prank? Fred’s judgement remained clouded for the rest of the practice, despite how hard Oliver pushed them. He needed to find you and at least figure out why you had been avoiding him.

While your former teammates were hard at work on the pitch, you were sat in the courtyard with Cedric. The two of you were propped up on the brick wall, sitting half inside the corridor and half outside. Students walked past as dinner was nearing, mummering about the two of you while walking by. Those who were unaware of your history gossiped about a possible relationship. A relationship was the last thing either of you wanted for each other.

Cedric was busy telling you a story about a holiday him and his father took to Greece the year before, a country you had been dying to visit. You were invested in his story about traveling to see authentic Greek God statues when the figure of a familiar boy came into view from the corner of your eye. Behind Cedric was Fred Weasley running up to every student in his perimeter, saying something to them, then running off to the next one. He reached a Slytherin girl, asked her something, then much to your surprise, she turned around and pointed at you. Fred followed her finger until his eyes found yours. Rushing over, Fred thought you were alone until he was a foot away and the shoulder of Cedric could be seen poking out behind the pillar.

Fred stopped next to Cedric, trying his best to appear intimidating, which would’ve caused you to giggle recklessly if the situation were different.

“Y/n… Cedric. Fancy running into the two of you.”

“Hey Fred.” The confidence in Cedric’s voice almost made you laugh. He was toying with Fred because he knew he could. You didn’t have an attraction towards Cedric, and he saw you as a great friend. Fred didn’t need to know this all yet.

Now that Fred was face-to-face with Cedric, you could see that your friend was correct about noticing the jealousy. Fred snarled at the Hufflepuff, a scowl painting his face. Once he looked over to you, his features softened. Biting your lip you echoed,

“Hi.” Fred was pleased with your response, even if it was minimal, at least you were willing to acknowledge him now. That was a step.

Reaching for your hand, Fred laced his rough fingers around your own. It was a familiar feeling you had been missing for over a week. Having his attention on you was something you missed- just having him around was something you missed.

Cedric coughed awkwardly, awaiting Fred’s move. The Gryffindor glared over again then took a deep breath, resisting the ticking urge to shove the boy away from your vicinity.

“Y/n, uh, can we talk?” He paused for a moment, “Without dear Cedric around.”

“Sure. I’ll see you around, Ced.” You leaned up to hug your friend, then watched as he walked away, smirking to himself.

“Ced?” Fred muttered under his breath, earning a small frown from you. “Sorry…”

Scratching at his arm, Fred tried to figure out where to begin. There were so many questions- so many. It was impossible to declare the perfect place to start. Realizing he wasn’t going to speak first, you broke the ice.

“You just want to talk here?” The corridor was empty, expect a Ravenclaw couple stealing a nap before curfew. A pair of students would walk by every so often, but they never strayed from their path.

“Uh, I suppose. I mean you haven’t really been talking to me at all for a week, so I’ll have a conversation wherever I can get one.” Fred chuckled uncomfortably, the lack of humor on your face building tension. You were staring out at the bare courtyard, viewing the scenery of flowers and greenery. Tall trees whooshed in the wind, leaves tumbling to the green grass gracefully. Branches swung against each other, the noise helping to create a distraction.

Slipping his thumb under your chin, Fred lifted your head locking his eyes on yours. You finally peered back at him, and the look in his eyes almost made your heart crumble. A slight glossy, sadness glazed his typically wild, gleaming, happy orbs. His hand tightened on your face, although not enough to hurt.

“Y/n why won’t you even look at me, love? You’re obsessed with Quidditch almost as much as Oliver and you just upped and quit. Don’t even try the excuse of ‘falling behind in school’, we both know that’s a bold lie. You’re the brightest witch in the castle. Look at me please, love.” He pleaded. A sudden rush of irritation surged through you, irked at his words. Pushing him back, you tried to rid yourself of the boy. Stubborn as he was, Fred didn’t move a muscle.

“Stop. Stop it. You can’t say that.” Sternly you scolded him. Fred ran his free hand across his face, his frustration getting the best of him.

“I can’t say what, darling?”

Finding the strength to push him away, you glowered intensely, “You can’t call me love, and you certainly can’t call me darling. You have Angelina for that.” The last part was thrown in more to jab at Fred, wanting to make him feel even an ounce of the pain you were experiencing. It was exactly the most adult choice, but who could blame you. It’s like they say; hurt people, hurt people.

Despite the coldness of your presence, Fred wasn’t backing off. Tugging at your wrist, he pulled your attention in again. His hands were gentle yet his features were sharp.

“So, what? Can only Cedric call you that? Cause just a week ago you were fine with it- loving it actually. This has nothing to do with Angelina-” The vein in his forehead was popping out from all the emotions Fred was draining at once. The last time you saw that sort of a reaction was when Fred nearly murdered his brother Percy for delivering him personally to Snape for exploring the castle after hours. It was quite an interesting Christmas break after that stunt. Fred attempted manslaughter roughly five times during that month off.

You heard his words but all you could see was red. You couldn’t stand to hear him say her name, it made the hairs on the back of your neck rise at the thought of Fred with Angelina. A week’s worth of heartbreak, anger, and hurt exploded without warning as you leaned close to Fred and shouted feverishly,

“This has everything to do with Angelina, Fred!” The anger boiled into a scream as you shoved your finger into his chest, poking him harshly, “You were supposed to be my best friend- her too- and you never told me. You led me on, you made me think you actually had feelings for me, that I had a chance, then you went and got with my roommate, and didn’t say a word to me! You just want me to pretend everything is fine and dandy but it isn’t! You hurt me- her too, but you more than anyone. I’ve been friends with both of you since first year- I’ve been in love with you since first year- and you never even said a thing, you coward! I fucking left clues in neon signs in that letter and you still ignored them. You could’ve just told me, Fred. I can’t even look at either of you the same now. Why didn’t you tell me?” The tears were pouring like a broken faucet at this point. Salt kissed the corner of your mouth then splashed onto the stone floor. Your head fell, allowing the cries to smack right to the ground. A black shoe came into view as it stepped towards you. Refusing to look up, you silently begged for Fred to do something- anything. Soon enough, his large hand clasped around your shoulder, yanking you tightly into his chest. His arms encapsulated you into a hold, hugging you like he never had before. Instead of fighting him off, you felt your body sinking into his arms as the sobs continued. Fred’s hand reached to your head, petting at your hair in a soothing manner.

Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, Fred lingered his lips against your skin. This was something he had down a million times but with the circumstances, it felt different this time, more genuine.

“You wrote those letters?” Fred uttered faintly. All the stars were aligning in his mind as the confession coated the air. He wanted to kick himself endlessly for putting a blindside up to all the flags. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine you, his best friend, would share the love he felt for you. He started to think back on all your little antics in a different light. How you’d hug him first after every Quidditch match- win or lose. How you’d hold only his hand when you walked to class and never George’s. How you’d braid his hair in the common room on the weekends and spend all night spilling your secrets to him. How whenever there was a party, you stayed close to his side clutching his hand, not that Fred ever let you wander far. It caused his heart to skip a beat as he fixed all the pieces together into a neat puzzle.

“Of course I fucking wrote the letters, Fred! Who else could’ve known all that, hm? I’m sure you ruled George out right away so that only leaves one of us. You didn’t want it to be me- you wanted it to be her.” Your voice cracked at the admission, turning away from Fred while the tears took control. You wanted to run off so bad, to go cry in a corner and never face anyone again. Wiping your eyes, Fred snatched your mascara smudged hand and frantically exclaimed,

“No, that’s not true! I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so bad Y/n, but it was just too good to be true. When I found them on my bed, Lee said Angelina was standing outside our room right before he came up so I… I guess it was just… I don’t know. I didn’t want to risk it, I was just scared if it really was you.” Your eyes rolled in disbelief, was he really driving the dagger in even more? Was it really necessary? The message was received loud and clear as you sneered up at him.

“I get it, Fred, okay? I fucking get it so you don’t have to spell it out for me. You’re with Angelina and I’m just your friend-” For the first time in the long years of your friendship, Fred Weasley snapped at you. Never had you heard his scary, angry voice directed at you, but this time, you were the only one around to be on the receiving end.

“Will you just shut up! I’m not with Angelina- I had a thing with her but I could never be with her, Y/n. She’s just… just-ugh! She’s just not you and it’s infuriating. And if I see you in Diggory’s arms one more time, I think I’m gonna explode.” He finished, out of breath and huffing. His hand around yours had gripped harder, your fingers nearly numb. This was the least of your concerns. All you could comprehend was the rapid words of the boy in front of you.

A triumphant sensation hit your stomach. It made you a little happy to know Fred was envious of Cedric. He had no reason to be, but it still made you smirk a tiny bit. Shrugging half heartedly you mumbled,

“Now you know how I feel…”

Fred’s head shot up at this. Confusion written all over his face he questioned,

“Wait, you’re not with Cedric?”

“No, Fred! He’s my friend- unlike you and Angelina, I don’t snog Cedric.” Dragging your words out, you sent a knowing flare at Fred. He didn’t deny it though, which was what you wanted. If anything was going to happen between the two of you, you needed to be entirely honest and Fred was ready for that. Lifting your hand to his face, you opened your grasp fully, allowing it to rest against the warmth of his cheek.

“It was only once, darling. Just to see if something was there and… well, don’t tell Angelina, but it was bloody terrible. I was expecting it to be like that time we uh, ‘accidently’ kissed last year. Don’t know if you remember it but I certainly do. But um, yeah it was nothing like that. I remember when I kissed you, it felt like that feeling of comfort that I get whenever I step inside The Burrow. And with Angelina, it was more so empty. With you, I had fucking butterflies for weeks! After I kissed Angelina- I vowed I wouldn’t do it again. I never want to kiss any girl who isn’t you, I mean that, Y/n. I’ve had a crush on you since George and I sat next to you on the train to Hogwarts. I’ve been in love with you since we got off that train our first year, and I haven’t stopped since.”

“I remember everything about that day, you were my first kiss after all.” A smile graced your lips at the memory. You had joined the Weasley’s for the last month of summer break, only months ago. Fred, George, and yourself were up late one night in their room gossiping about the new drama you had missed while apart. You laid on your stomach on Fred’s bed, and George on his. Fred sat cross legged beside you, his arm lying on your back. After a few hours, Ginny knocked to inform you she was heading to bed. Taking a risky gamble, Fred begged Molly to let you sleep in their room on a makeshift cot. It took him a little over three weeks to get a yes from her- but with the limitation that the door stay open no matter the hour.

Ginny would stop in every night to wish you a good sleep. Although small in retrospect, this was a big reason Fred fell even more in love with you, the way his little sister looked up at you as if you were the most beautiful creature to ever lay foot on this earth- not that Fred would deny this. He agreed fully, but it made him happier than ever to know that his family loved you and consider you an honorary Weasley. He hoped one day he’d be able to make you an official Weasley, but that would come further down the road.

George crashed around three and Fred and yourself decided to lay in his bed for a few more hours before hitting the hay. You knew you’d have to sneak back to your cot before sunrise or Molly would execute Fred- not you of course, just Fred. She never found you guilty for any of their disastrous plans.

After an hour or so, you were laying next to Fred, staring up at the ceiling as he explained to you all the reasons on how he was superior to George in Quidditch, a conversation that he would only win when George was passed out. For some reason, this led to Fred rambling on about the first time he saw you flying, how he knew you would be an exquisite flyer. Maybe it was because of the kind compliments and the admiration it created inside of you but you placed a soft kiss to the corner of Fred’s lip mid sentence as he gushed about your Quidditch skills.

As you pulled away, Fred pulled you forward again, this time initiating the kiss himself and smacking his lips entirely on yours. Although it was your first kiss, you caught on quick. Fred moved to hover over you which caused your kiss to break and reality to set in. You both went as white as a ghost, frozen in place. Fred just stayed on top of you, unsure of what to do next. His heart urged him to kiss you again but the look of shock on your face made him doubt this idea. After an awkward minute of this, you slowly slid out from under him and sprinted to the makeshift bed, hiding under the covers until morning. It was embarrassing to say the least but neither of you mentioned it since. You went back to normal the next day, pretending the kiss was a figment of your imaginations. But it was as real as your feelings and it happened. You pondered now if you had kissed him again back on that night, maybe you would’ve been together sooner.

Pulling you back into the moment, Fred peeled your hand from his face and scattered a line of kisses to your knuckles,

“If you’d let me, I’d like to be your last.”

“What exactly are you asking me, Freddie?” You smiled, a sugary confection grin, like the world was finally turning in your favor. A gleeful grin took over Fred at the nickname your gifted him. Leaving a chaste peck to the back of your hand, Fred leaned into your touch. “I’ve missed that so much, love. You’re the only one besides mum and George that can call me Freddie. But,” Eyes meeting your, you could feel your heart melting under his gaze. “I want to ask you if you’d be my girlfriend?” If you weren’t standing so close, his whispered words would’ve gone unheard. Luckily for the both of you, they fully registered in your head and heart. Pinching at the skin of your arm, you reassured yourself this was in fact real and not a dream. Fred really was standing in front of you confessing everything you had been dying to hear since your first year. You figured you must have been staring for far too long as a look of fear flashed across Fred’s face.

“Freddie, of course I’ll be your girlfriend!”

“Merlin’s beard- you had me scared, darling.” He hugged you close to his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart pounding against your ears. You could hear the nerves in his voice causing you to giggle against him.

“Did you really think I was going to say no?”

“I mean I have been a down right git these last few days so, can you blame me for being worried?” He pulled away to glance down at you with a funny expression. Scrunching your nose as if deep in thought, you shook your head.

“Nope.”

Skimming his thumb across your cheek again, Fred took a different approach this time. His body leaned in slowly to yours, stopping just before connecting to brush his lips against yours. The tips of your noses touched, making you laugh at the tickle. He took his time admiring every detail of your face so up close and personal. His eyes surveyed the miniscule dark spots kissing your s/c skin, the paint strokes of e/c in your eyes, the indented dimples in your cheeks and all the beautiful little details that crafted you.

Drawing in, Fred closed the inch of a gap by pressing his pursed lips against your own. Your knees gave out almost immediately at the intense passion and spark soaring through you. As if expecting you to stumble, Fred’s free arm was wrapped securely around your waist, supporting your body to a stand. Snaking your hands around his face, you mimicked his movements by enticing him in with your lips and kissing him deeply. You moved your hand down to his tie, gripping the satin material in your hand then whipped it towards yourself. Fred crashed further into your lips, a groan of pleasure emmitnating. His hand trailed from your waist to your hair, returning the action by tugging at your hair.

You gasped at the sensation, giving Fred the perfect window of opportunity to take the lead. The warmth, and wetness of his tongue slipped around your lip, then entered your mouth. You fought with him wanting to dominate the kiss but Fred was far too skilled.

His tongue danced with yours before flicking across your lips in a teasing manner. You giggled into his lips, a smile rising to Fred’s lips. Detaching himself from your embrace, Fred pulled back, then kissed your cheek. His hands found their previous position around your face. As he held your face in his hands, he leaned down to rest your foreheads against one another. Like a child whose mother just purchased him a puppy, Fred abruptly gushed,

“I can finally call you mine now, isn’t that wicked! Like… you’re my girlfriend now! Bloody hell, this is amazing. I should’ve asked you out years ago!” He chuckled giddly, squeezing your cheeks lightly in his hands. You pulled away, smacking his hands playfully.

“Tell me about it. Would’ve made this a whole lot easier.”

“Ah c’mon, love. Nothing worth it ever comes easy, right?” Fred smiled down at you, intertwining his large hand in yours. You peeked at the interlock, a grin rising to your face. Despite the annoyance of how long it took him, you couldn’t be happier now that he was truly yours. He was right, the wait was finally worth it. For once, your life was aligning with the script of a Hollywood film and it had never felt better.

Gripping Fred’s hand loving you tilted your head up at him,

“Is that your excuse for taking, what… six years?” His cheeks went red at this and he attempted to cover his face in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, darling! Oh wait- am I allowed to call you that, or is it still reserved for Diggory?” Wiggling his eyebrows at you Fred broke into a fit of chuckles. You hit his side, causing him to step back, though the laughter roared louder. Narrowing your eyes, you feigned anger as you spun on your heel and started to walk in the opposite direction, away from Fred.

“Shut up, Freddie! You want me to break-up with you already?” Fred knew you were joking, but he was a sucker for games. It didn’t take him long to catch up to you- his long strides were no match to your average ones. Wrapping his arms around your body from the back, Fred pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, blowing a rush of air in causing you to leap in surprise.

“Oh, stop it, love! Don’t start with that, let’s at least make it a full day before any talks of breaking up.” Fred placed a ‘boop’ to your nose, then rejoined you at your side as you walked together to the dorm room. The other students had emptied from the halls. Passing by the large clock, you realized you were minutes from curfew. Pointing at the time, you motioned over to Fred. He swiveled his head to read the clock, a wild smirk marking his face. Speeding up the pace, the two of you were jogging to the common room, neither of you wanting to end up in detention. Just as you reached the fourth floor, a silvery and translucent figure swept across the opening of the corridor. You yelp in freight at the unexpected jump scare of a Hogwarts ghost. The Bloody Baron snapped his head at you with a nasty scowl. A silver, heavy chain hung around his neck, a punishment for his crime of murder. Although ghosts of Hogwarts weren’t ghoulish or frightening, The Bloody Baron had never been your favorite. Despite deceased, the throw of his glare felt real and caused your skin to crawl in fear.

Fred interjected, greeting The Bloody Baron kindly and apologizing for your reaction. The ghosts at Hogwarts were rather sensitive to their state. Besides, he always had a softer side for the twins. The Bloody Baron and Peeves were connected in a way so the Weasley twins always got a pass.

The ghost gravitated to the side of the entrance, allowing an opening for you to pass. You thanked him, apologizing for your previous reaction as you stepped past. As you made it out of his earshot, a stream of laughter poured from Fred. Tears pricked his eyes as he chuckled endlessly. You glared at him, warning him with just one look to keep quiet. Fred threw his arm around you, pulling you into his side. He leaned down to place a lingering kiss to your lips before chuckling again,

“C’mon, darling. I’ll protect you from all the ghosts.”

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early2000smovieimagines · 3 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Ron Weasley

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Technically, you and Ron didn’t meet until fourth year but the redheaded boy had been in love with you since the moment he saw you, which was during first year at the magical school.

- While he was certainly too shy to approach you, he did do quite a bit of staring and talking to Harry about you; though he tried to pretend as though he couldn’t care less every time he realized how in love he sounded.

- So fourth year comes around and he’s still just as infatuated with you; and just as emotionally stunted about it, as ever. But then, it happens.

“Hey Ginny.”

- You waved at the redheaded girl as you passed with a few of your friends, causing her older brother to stare at her as though she’d suddenly sprouted another head.

“How do you know y/n y/l/n?!” Ron immediately asked after you were far away enough not to hear.

- He spent the rest of their walk questioning her as to how she knew you and how you met and if you were close and blah, blah, blah. Ginny only got him to lay off after she started teasing him for being in love with you, but even then he still sent a few hesitant questions her way, all the while insisting he wasn’t all that interested.

- Ginny is very pleased with her newfound power. It was like the cat who got the canary the first time she brought you over and introduced you to her blushing brother. Ron could have killed her yet “kissed” her at the same time; not literally.

- Even though you now know each other and are on friendlier terms, he’s still nervous and awkward around you. He’s always messing up his words, stuttering, tripping over things, staring, etc. He’s awful with women if you weren’t aware.

- And yet, you still seem to like him, and over time he does start to relax, even though he still has his moments.

- Ron never actually asks you out, you just sort of have a silent agreement. You start to spend more alone time together, you don’t date anyone else, you share awkward yet almost tender moments, etc. Your relationship status is later solidified with a; long awaited, kiss and a kiss alone.

- Ron is very much so a spontaneous “I’m just gonna kiss her and deal with the consequences later” type of person. He’s bad at expressing his feelings with words so he’ll do it with his actions, and he’ll do it quickly before he has the chance to stop himself; usually after a surge of emotions.

- So, in typical Ron fashion, he heard some guy mention how he was thinking about asking you out, and realized that you never did establish that the two of you were an item. He immediately started to think about how much he’d hate to see you with another guy and how much he cared about you.

- Because of that, he was quite distracted when he finally saw you again. He fidgeted and seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as you walked together but just as you were thinking about saying something to him, he turned and laid one on you.

- Although you were a bit flustered and certainly very surprised, you kissed back and smiled at him as the two of you pulled away.

“I’ve been waiting to do that.” He admitted, his less confident personality returning as a blush creeped its way onto his cheeks.

- It’s in that moment that you’ve realized that you’ve fallen in love with a dork. A wonderful, beautiful dork.

- Though it tends to make him flustered, Ron is definitely a fan of pda. In the beginning of your relationship, he’s a bit defensive about it, like when his friends chuckle at you kissing his cheek or make faces at him while he’s got his arm wrapped around you, but he learns to ignore it and just brush them off.

- Handholding.

- Leaning your head on his shoulder. Perhaps it’s because it’s you initiating a type of affection or because it shows that you’re comfortable with him, but either way, he loves it.

- Hugs. That’s all this boy wants. Just wrap your arms around him and let him hold you close goddamnit!

- You giving him kisses on the cheek; or anywhere else? Unparalleled. Never stop.

- Abrupt, passionate kisses.

- Snogging. He’s certainly a bit clumsy at first but you don’t mind; you probably are too.

- He has a few select terms of endearment that he likes to use: darling, sweetheart, woman, my girlfriend. He doesn’t mind pet names but please stick to a simple “babe” or “honey” and not something like “won won” (shudders).

- Ron sleeps on his back most of the time so you’ll just usually lay your head on his chest while he wraps his arms around you. That being said, he isn’t particular about the position, and since he has a habit of snoring, you may want to try spooning.

- Do you know how long he’s waited to brush your hair behind your ear or wipe something off your face? That little action is so important to him and even he doesn’t really know why.

- Bridal carrying and piggyback rides. Ron’s a strong boy and he likes showing it off, and feeling you holding onto him.

- Getting your food stolen.

- Playing chess.

- Dates at Hogsmeade. Sometimes the two of you just wander around and get yourselves a little privacy from every bodies prying eyes; and third wheeling.

- Going to the three broomsticks. If Ginny is there, he will immediately ask to leave and you oftentimes find it too amusing to be annoyed.

- Obviously, Ron doesn’t have a ton of pocket money so the two of you don’t do anything too expensive. A lot of your dates consist of roaming around the castle and the grounds together, finding somewhere to sit and just enjoying each other’s company.

- Sitting in the courtyard together.

- Cheering Harry on at Quidditch together and later cheering him, Ginny and Harry on with Hermione.

- Exaggerated stories. He’s always trying to impress you and make himself or what he’s done seem cooler than it really is.

- You’re constantly making jabs at each other and lovingly laughing at the other person. How can you not tease him for being in love with Viktor Krum, it’s the only way you can make yourself feel better about his obsession.

- You can practically see the hearts in his eyes when you laugh. He loves seeing and hearing it so much.

- Compliments and flattery. Is it so you’ll do his homework? Is it genuine? The world may never know.

- Making sure he actually does his work and does it well. He would be lost without you.

- You and Hermione talking about your mutual struggles with the boys. Ron and Harry watch from afar, agreeing that your little gathering makes them nervous and wondering what you’re saying.

- He likes when you try to teach him things, it gives him an excuse to be close to and watch you.

- He’s always encouraging you and reassuring you that you’ll do great and that you can do it. He’s so sure of you that you almost feel sure of yourself.

- Although he tries to not let you know just how much he is, he’s very impressed and proud of you at just about any given moment. He’s never met someone as amazing as you.

- Sometimes he surprises you with just how much he listens. Oftentimes at random, he’ll mention something that you once said and surprise you with just how much he’s taken to remembering; sometimes purely because it came out of your mouth.

- He’s always a bit speechless when you give him a gift. Once he’s over the shock, he’ll give you a “bloody hell, thank you” and a kiss on the cheek.

- Ron’s taken on Voldemort and countless other dangers and yet you’ll still have to be the one to kill the spiders in your relationship.

- Showing him muggle stuff. Oh Godric, the amount of time his father spent asking you about the muggle world when you first visited....

- Spending summers at the burrow and writing to each other; even though he teasingly pretends that he won’t.

- Ron is the youngest Weasley boy and Molly’s a momma bear so expect to be sweetly scrutinized and then made into a part of the family.

- The twins and Ginny teasing the two of you; though they do tease him more when they’re alone with him.

- You should probably apologize to Harry I’m advance because this boy never shuts up about you to him.

- Lightly touching and checking on each other’s injuries. He’s very gentle with you when you’re hurt, he treats you like you’re made of glass.

- Ron has always sort of felt like he was second best to Harry and most of his brothers so he loves when you pay special attention to him. Listening to his stories, praising him, having eyes only for him, it all makes him feel so much better about himself.

- Trying to help him smooth things over with people; especially when it comes to Harry and Hermione. It’s awkward to not be able to talk to them because your boyfriend keeps you right by his side so you try to fix things as soon as possible.

- As we all know, Ron is an incredibly jealous person and when he gets jealous, he can get a bit nasty. He’ll most likely interrupt you and make you choose between him or the guy, wanting you to prove that he’s more important to you than them by going with him.

- Afterwards, he insults the person he’s jealous of, maybe accidentally somewhat insulting you in the process, and tries his best to make you think the other person is a git.

- Ron is constantly jumping to defend your honor and is always ready to fight someone to do it. He may act like an ass to you at times but he really does love you and your safety is his top priority. Nothing is going to mess with his girlfriend.

- The two of you have quite a few fights, all of them varying in intensity. Ron isn’t good at expressing his feelings so that’s usually what leads to fighting: him just not being able to communicate properly. Sometimes you have quick, hushed arguments, leaning in close to each others faces. Other times, you’ll be having loud and harsh ones filled with insinuations and insults you don’t mean.

- You usually give each other space, whether it’s out of respect or because you both refuse to speak to the other one first depends on the situation. He asks Harry how long he thinks you’ll stay mad at him and oftentimes asks the boy to talk to you for him, mainly to see if you’re still mad. His apologies are stilted but he does give them and knowing how he is, you usually accept them.

- There aren’t a ton of I love you’s in your relationship, given how awkward he is most of the time; particularly when you’re younger, but he will occasionally blurt it out without thinking.

“Bloody hell,” he’ll say in awe. “Godric I love you.”

- While times certainly get tough in the future, he’s been in love with you since he was eleven and there’s no sign of it stopping any time soon. You’ll stick by each others sides and when the dust settles, you’ll start to build that life he’s been fantasizing about.

#ron weasley imagine #ron weasley headcanon #ron weasley imagines #ron weasley headcanons #hp imagines #hp headcanons #hp imagine #hp headcanon #harry potter imagines #harry potter headcanons #Ron Weasley x reader

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cursestothemoon · 3 years

Text

Dimly-Lit Corners and Dark Corridors

Requested: yesss

Harry Potter x Fem!reader (house not specified)

Warning: suggestive themes (nothing overtly sexual), kissing, awkward Harry, mentions of scarring (Umbridge)

Word Count: 2773

alright this one is really cute and harry is so awkward and sweet and dorky and just 🥰 but yeah i really like this one

✧✧✧

Harry was with Hermione as they returned books in the library. Really, Hermione was putting the books back whilst also complaining about Ron, and Harry… well Harry was just there for moral support.

“Was I under the impression that he and I would be attending Slughorn’s Christmas party together? Yes. Now, given the circumstances, I’ve had to make other arrangements.”

Harry was surprised to hear this, to him the solution was obvious really, “Have you?”

“Yes,” Her look was defensive. “Why?”

“Well I just thought, seeing as neither of us can go with who we’d really like to, we should go together as friends.”

Hermione groaned, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Who are you going with?” Harry was now extremely curious.

But as Hermione started talking, something about not being able to tell him just yet, Harry’s attention had been stolen. His eyes followed after the group of girls a year older than him and Hermione that had just walked into the library, conveniently sitting at the table closest to the aisle he and Hermione were in. It wasn’t the whole group that had a hold on his focus, no, just one girl that happened to be the center of the group. Harry felt his stomach erupt in the most ridiculous butterflies as he watched Y/n L/n throw her head back in laughter. Time seemed to slow as he watched her smile, hair cascading down her back and Harry couldn’t help but think of a hundred and one scenarios of him, her, and his hands running through her-

“Harry!” Hermione hit his shoulder with a book.

“Ow, Hermione.” Harry grumbled, hand going to rub the area on his shoulder that was sure to form a bruise.

His eyes shot over to Y/n, praying she didn’t see the embarrassing exchange before he turned back to Hermione, luckily she was still giggling at something her friend was saying to notice the assault.

“What was that for?”

Hermione laughed, “If you like her so much, just talk to her.”

“You say that like it’s easy, Hermione.” Harry sighed.

Y/n L/n had appeared on Harry’s radar last year. She had come to DA meetings with her friends and was exceptionally good at most defensive and offensive spell work. She was friendly and funny and incredibly beautiful, the kind of beautiful that was beyond just her looks. Harry was sure if she had walked into a room full of strangers everyone would turn to look, it was late one night when Harry decided to call it her ‘aura’. Even so, Harry had been so stressed about DA meetings he didn’t really develop a crush on her until one day he had gone to help Fred and George with a defensive spell and they were standing with her mid conversation. It was quite clear that Fred had been putting all the moves on her, George going about it with more of a subtle approach, yet Harry noticed she was nothing but friendly. And when he walked up to them, Y/n had turned to him with the most dazzling smile and a gentle hand to his bicep. Harry definitely understood why Fred was so grumpy when he was rejected after the meeting, but Harry also had never been able to produce a patronus so easily the next meeting when he saw Y/n again, Fred free.

From then on Harry swore no one could hold a candle to her, he was sure veelas were created with Y/n L/n as inspiration. Ron definitely made fun of him for his more poetic bouts of professing his love to an imaginary Y/n that lived in his dorm. To say Harry was less than smooth when talking to Y/n was an understatement, so he’s resorted to avoiding most interactions with her.

“It is that easy. People are calling you ‘The Chosen One’ she’s probably just too shy to talk to you herself.” Hermione said, bringing him out of his thoughts again.

“That’s not true.”

“Think about it, Harry. It seems like all the girls this year are trying to go after you. Like…there, see that girl over there?” She asked, subtly motioning to a girl with curly hair on the opposite side of the room.

Harry nodded.

“That’s Romilda Vane, I overheard her and some other girls in the bathroom. They were planning how to slip you a love potion.”

“Really?” This was all news to Harry.

Hermione scoffed, “She’s only interested in you because she thinks you’re the chosen one.”

“But I am the chosen one.”

He received another hit to the shoulder, the same book and girl the cause of his pain.

“Right, sorry.”

“All I’m saying is, you could use it to your advantage.” Hermione suggested.

Harry grumbled again, “I doubt she cares, Hermione. She hasn’t tried to slip me anything, we barely talk.”

“You barely talk,” Hermione turned to put a book on a shelf. “Because you don’t try to talk to her. You can’t expect her to just fall to your feet, she seems like she knows her worth and isn’t going to beg you to date her.”

“It wouldn’t be...falling at my feet… it would be showing interest.” Harry said matter-of-factly.

Hermione shook her head, “Boys don’t understand anything.”

“Well, I wou-” Harry let out a grunt as his back hit something.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Harry turned around so fast he almost tripped, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline as he heard Y/n’s voice behind him. She was standing with both her hands out, one holding his bicep the other on his chest to steady him.

“Y/n, I didn- you- how are- what’s me? No, I mean, what’s up?”

He was certain Fred had been smoother and he got rejected, he had no chance. But he perked up at the sound of her giggle, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“I’m alright, Harry. I just wanted to come say hi, you know since we haven’t talked much after meetings last year.” Her face started to glow an ethereal pink as she talked and Harry felt his jaw start to hang open just slightly.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, how’s everything been, then….with you?” Harry stuttered.

Y/n smiled, hands now back at her sides, “I’ve been good, missed the D.A., ya know? What about you, Harry, have you been alright with everything?”

“Oh, yeah, great, fantastic. I am the chosen one. Wait! No, I didn’t mean like- I don’t know why I said that.”

Y/n nodded and let out a chuckle at the way Harry fumbled.

“I’ve heard. Good on you for finally getting the Prophet to listen. Anyway, I shou-”

“Go to Slug Club with me.”

Hermione couldn’t hold her laugh at the confused expression on Y/n’s face, or the completely mortified look Harry was sporting.

Harry calmed himself before clarifying, “Professor Slughorn has these...parties, and he told us to bring someone along for the Christmas party. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me… to the party?”

“Oh-”

“You don’t have to, it’s alright, really. I’ll ju-”

He was cut off by Y/n putting a hand on his shoulder as she spoke, “I’d love to go with you.”

“Brilliant!” Harry smiled, day suddenly brighter and mood better.

She then turned to Hermione and asked if she’d be there too, to which Hermione responded with a grumbled ‘unfortunately’ before bringing a smile back to her face to tell Y/n she would be excited to see her.

Harry was beyond nervous, his palms were slick with sweat and his hair was far from as tame as he would’ve liked. The Christmas party was in an hour and he had to meet Y/n in half, his nerves were on fire at the thought of being with her all night. Of course, he’d have to talk to her and she’d walk in with him with her arm in his. Or was that too cliche? Would she think of this as a date? Was it a date? Harry knew he wanted it to be a date, Merlin, did he want it to be a date.

“You’re thinking about it too much, mate.” Ron piped up from his bed.

“But is it a date?” Harry asked, turning to Ron.

Ron shrugged, “Sure it is.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. You’re a bloke, she’s a girl, you guys are going to a Christmas dinner. Yeah, I’d say it’s a date.”

This didn’t help Harry’s nerves, but an idea flashed through his mind as his eyes skimmed over his trunk.

“Maybe I should drink the liquid luck? Get lucky.”

Ron gave him a suggestive look that made his cheeks heat up, “That’s not what I mean. I ju-”

“If you got her to say yes without the stuff, I’d say the hard part is over. Bloody hell, I can't wait until Fred finds out you’re dating Y/n L/n. Can I be the one to tell him?”

Harry was quick to shake his head, “No. Her and I aren’t dating. It’s just one Christmas party.”

Just one Christmas party his arse, Harry thought as he watched Y/n make her way to him from her common room entry. Y/n’s dress was a dark blue, almost black, satin that hugged her body enviously close and fell all the way to the floor. Curves, dips, and assets on tasteful display, yet it was Y/n’s warm smile that made Harry’s hands sweat.

The dress had thin straps holding it up and a straight, slouchy neckline. Y/n had her arms, neck, and most of her chest exposed; she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t bring a cover up in hopes that Harry would offer his jacket.

“Ready to go?” Y/n asked bringing Harry out of scenario number sixty-seven.

Scenario number sixty seven was a personal favorite of Harry’s, just newly sprouted, it consisted of him and Y/n in a dark corridor getting rather familiar.

“Ye-Yeah. You look beautiful, Y/n.” Harry complimented.

It was Y/n’s turn to fumble as she muttered out a thank you, her bashful expression giving Harry enough of a confidence boost to put his arm around her waist to guide her to the party.

Slughorn's party had been in full swing by the time they had arrived, Harry had guided her through the long way in hopes of getting to keep his arm around her waist just that much longer. Y/n, of course, had caught on to Harry’s scenic route but kept it to herself, she had liked being alone with the raven haired boy.

A few of the party goers Y/n recognized, but made no move to go say hi as she was content standing with Harry who had started a conversation with Slughorn. The rest of the party went as such, Harry and Y/n joined at the hip, usually found in whispered conversations in dimly lit corners. Harry had gotten much more confident as the night progressed, conversation with Y/n seemed to flow exceptionally well. He had learned that she was not only insanely attractive but a huge fan of the Holyhead Harpies, loved potions class (regardless of who was teaching it), and she was incredibly witty and dorky. Harry learned that she was absolutely perfect.

“-after that I probably slipped down a good five or six steps and landed right at Umbridge’s feet. She didn’t like that very much.” Y/n laughed, right hand subconsciously going to touch the top of her left.

Harry gave her a look of disbelief catching the movement, “She didn’t set the quill on you for that did she?”

“Yeah, but it’s alright. I’m still here aren't I?” She smiled, hoping to calm the look of worry that had flashed across Harry’s face.

He didn’t respond to her attempt of calming him, instead going to grab her hand. He raised the back of her hand to the light and tried to read the words that were etched into her hand but let out a sound of confusion.

“I can’t read it…” He said more to himself but Y/n heard.

She came out of her haze, brought on by Harry holding her hand so gently and carefully.

“That’s because there’s two sentences overlapping. The first one says ‘I must behave like a lady when in public’ and the second one-”

Harry connected the dots, guilt starting to eat away at his insides as he cut her off, “The D.A.”

“Yeah…” She confirmed, eye avoiding his gaze.

Harry felt all the rage he had felt for Dolores Umbridge returning to his body again, and he swore if he were to ever see that woman again he wouldn’t hold back. Y/n could tell by the way Harry’s grip tightened around her hand, though not tight enough to hurt.

“Hey, it’s alright. If I had known what would happen then, I still would’ve joined.”

She shuddered as she felt Harry’s index finger gently trace over the undecipherable scribbles.

Harry seemed to realize how close they had gotten, and his cheeks burned as his heart rate picked up. There was a nagging voice in the back of his mind that sounded an awfully lot like Ron telling him to just make a move.

You’re a bloke

She’s a girl

“Harry, you think they’d miss you if we let for a moment?”

He was brought back to reality as he heard the words and he hoped to Merlin he was reading it the way she meant for it to be read. He could feel his cheeks burning as he tried to rack his mind of ways to respond.

“I- you mean like- like get out of here. With me?” His cheeks burned even hotter as he tried to find the right words.

He let an awkward cough slip as Y/n slowly intertwined their hands together, her move was confident but her face had an expression of shyness.

“Well, yeah I was hoping you’d be there.”

He let out a breathy laugh as he stumbled a bit, seemingly knocked back by the suggestion.

“Oh- Yeah, I- uh- brilliant!”

Y/n giggled as she found the awkward boy in front of her incredibly endearing, and she couldn’t help herself as she took a step closer to Harry, face inches from his. She could almost hear him gulp as she looked down at his lips before meeting his eyes. Luckily they had been tucked away in a corner, away from most of the prying eyes of the party.

Harry wasn’t going to reject the new positioning but he also didn’t seem to be able to move to further it along, fortunately he didn’t have to. Y/n brought her hands up to cup his face as she gently brought her lips to his. Harry was kicked into action, his hands sliding around her waist as brought her closer, deepening the kiss. They stayed like that, lips smacking and tongues getting familiar for a few more seconds before Y/n pulled away, chuckling as Harry’s lips trailed after hers for a moment.

“That was...nice. Not like a bad nice, a good nice. A really good ni-”

His jaw was once again grabbed by Y/n, making him swallow his words and look into her eyes as she smiled gently.

“You don’t have to be so nervous, Harry, it’s just me.” She said, face lining in to peck him one more time.

He puckered out his lips comically as she pecked him, face still in her hands, but he had no complaints.

“You’re a bit intimidating.” Harry admitted.

“Really? How so?” She humored him.

Harry couldn't help but answer honestly, “You’re beautiful and kinda really...cool.”

They were quick to leave after that, Harry guiding Y/n to a secluded corridor that really only those who had seen the Marauders Map would be aware of. Once far enough into the corridor, Harry pushed Y/n against a cool stone wall. No longer as nervous as before, seeing as it was clear she felt the same, he was the one to initiate the kiss.

It was with slow hands and friendly lips that Harry was finally able to live through scenario number sixty seven, and he couldn’t wait to tell Fred that the real thing was far better than anything you could fantasize about.

And Y/n L/n made her way to her dorm that night, well passed curfew, with Harry’s jacket to keep her warm.

#Harry Potter #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

Falling // G.W. (celebration fic)

Request: George and *gasp* there is only one bed AU?? Pls? 🥺 - @acciotwinz

A/N: This is also inspired by the made up fic title that the ever so talented @theweasleysredhair sent in to me. This is a no Voldemort AU which also has the chance of becoming a two parter, who knows? I hope you like!!

Summary: A timeline of your love for George Weasley.

Warnings: teenage angst but overloaded with fluff

Word count: 4.1k

First Year:

Rushing through the corridors, late for Potions is not how you wanted to start your day, but it seemed like there was to be no luck for you this morning.

Having woken late, you had rushed getting dressed and forgot your bag as you raced from your bedroom, having to double back to get it. By that time, breakfast had almost finished so you threw back a piece of cold toast slathered with raspberry jam before necking a glass of orange juice and sprinting from the Great Hall.

Turning onto the corridor in which Snape’s classroom is located, you run straight into someone. The force of hitting them, you fall onto your bum and the person you ran into is pitched forwards, caught luckily by their friend.

They turn quickly; their eyes dropping to your figure on the floor, ready to start shouting. However, it seems their argument dies at the same time. Your eyes widen as you realise who you’ve run into: Fred and George Weasley. The latter rubbing their shoulder where your face had been only moments ago.

“Merlin,” You stutter, “I am so sorry, I was rushing, and I didn’t see you there.”

His twin, Fred you think, covers his mouth politely as he laughs. George elbows him as he smiles at you. “No harm, no foul,” George reassures.

You release a long sigh; unaware just how on edge you felt around the twins already making themselves a name larger than the Marauders who once roamed these very halls. You smile sheepishly at the redhead, already a few inches taller than you despite being the same age, and gesture to the now empty corridor, “I guess I better get going to class. I don’t want to be late – Snape will have my head if I am.”

George nods his head, “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you around then.”

You turn away from him; hoisting your bag further up your shoulder, “I’ll see you around, George.”

Second Year:

“(Y/N),” A humour filled voice calls out from behind you.

Turning, you come face to face with George Weasley. You startle slightly; not having spoken much to the twin since you had run into him through your first year. A conversation would be had every now and then, but it mainly consisted of group work with other students in attendance.

Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, you greet the redhead. He smiles at you politely before gesturing to the empty seat next to you, “Do you mind if I sit here?”

You shake your head, “Of course not, but why aren’t you sitting next to Fred?”

George smiles at you gratefully as he sits down next to you, “They’ve split us into different Herbology classes.”

You grin at his answer, “Do I want to know why?”

He shakes his head; opening his notebook and reaching into his bag for his quill. “Probably not, but I’m not too bothered.”

“You aren’t?”

George shakes his head once more, shrugging his shoulders, “I get to sit next to you.”

You turn your eyes from him quickly; not expecting an answer like that. He laughs lightly as he notes down the date and aim for this lesson. “I think we’re going to be good friends, (Y/N).”

Third Year:

Your Third Year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry starts a little differently to your last two. For starters, you don’t sit with your usual friends. Instead, you wave to them from the platform at Kings Cross before joining Fred and George as they wait for you with their younger brother, Ron, in tow.

Your friendship with the twins developed quickly after that first Herbology lesson with George. He had carried on talking to you after the class; walking you to your next one without complaint and then meeting you later with Fred.

Warming to them both, you couldn’t help but feel closer to George. He had a knack for knowing exactly what you were thinking and feeling at any given moment; able to pull you from stressing too much over essays. He always seemed to be there too; for you to talk to, for you to unload your worries on to.

The friendship was something you already cherished; it bringing out a more playful side to you that you could no longer ignore in their presence. Whenever you could, you would lend an ear to their plans for pranks – offering your opinion over where best to throw a dungbomb in order to affect the most people.

Third Year did not start the same as your first and second year; this year you felt surer of yourself, felt happier with the person you were becoming. You had George to thank for that.

-------

“Ron!” You call out; grabbing the attention of the youngest Weasley boy. His ears turn red with unwanted attention, and you can’t help but take glee in it. “How are you?” You ask, “Are you settling in okay? And this must be Harry?”

If possible, Ron blushes harder. He nods before finding his voice, “I’m okay. I’m settling in fine; you sound like my mum (Y/N). Yes, this is Harry.”

You smile widely at the messy haired boy before turning your attention back to Ron. “Your mother is an angel, Ron, so I’m taking that as a compliment. Who else would send me a hand-knitted jumper for Christmas?”

Ron snorts, “What’s up, (Y/N)?”

“Have you seen your brother at all?” You ask; eyes scanning for George amongst the growing crowd of students making their way to their next class.

Ron raises an eyebrow, “Which one?”

You fix him with a flat stare; unimpressed with the sass coming from the eleven year old boy. “George. I’m looking for George,” You state for clarity’s sake.

Ron shakes his head, “We saw him at breakfast, but I haven’t seen him since. Have you, Harry?”

Harry shakes his head too. “Have you checked the library?” He offers in kindness.

You bite your lip; wondering about the ever so slight chance of the Weasley twin being in the library. You smile gratefully at the young Gryffindors, “Thank you, boys. I’ll see you later.”

You make to turn, but at the last minute, you swivel back to ruffle Ron’s hair into an undignified mess. He shouts in protest as you run off. As you leave, you hear Harry ask after your identity. Ron tells him who you are and what you mean to the family, but he rounds off with, “George would not stop talking about them over summer.”

Turning onto the corridor for the library, you file that piece of information away for later. For a time when you’re also ready to confront the ever growing feelings for the redhead.

Fourth Year:

Fourth Year begins much like the last. You meet Fred and George at Kings Cross; ruffling Ron’s hair and smiling warmly at Ginny – the last of the Weasley brood to start Hogwarts. She smiles back, but it’s watery and you reach out a hand for her to take in comfort – her goodbyes to her mother already said as you all board the train.

The train ride is loud, but you still find the time to catch up with George. He asks about your summer as if you didn’t spend half of it at the Burrow; you regale him of your time abroad with your family – travelling through the north of France on an extended history lesson.

You hate to admit it, but you bask in his attention, having missed him fiercely through your time abroad that no amount of letters helped. You missed hearing his laughter; it eliciting goosebumps on your skin with each chortle.

Watching the Scottish countryside pass you at an alarming rate, you wonder whether Fourth Year is going to feel similar to third. If your heart has any say in this, it would be the first to tell you that no – this year was not going to feel anything like the last.

--------

Despite the warmth of the fire, the common room is cold as you sit next to George. What started as a happy, carefree atmosphere was plunged into ice, becoming frozen and stilted with words about a missing sibling.

“They said her name… and I just, I stopped hearing anything else,” George whispers; voice close to breaking as he buries his face in his hands.

You open your mouth to offer words of comfort; to offer words of anything, but nothing comes out. How do you comfort something like this? How do offer words of help when you can’t compare the situation to anything you have ever experienced?

At the last minute, as George turns his head to face you, you bring his head to your shoulder, and this time you’re the one to provide wordless comfort.

You feel him shudder against you; overcome with the news of his missing sister. The news had come in a couple of hours ago; George, Fred and Ron escorted from the common room by Professor McGonagall, leaving you alone with Harry and Hermione who were both just as confused as you.

Upon their return, you rushed immediately to George’s side, noting his paleness and the slight tremble to his hands. You couldn’t count on both hands how many times you had asked him – pleaded with him – to tell you what had happened for him to react like this, but for a while, all he did was shake his head, unable to put into the words the news he had received.

It was Ron who worked up the courage. Taking a deep breath to slow his racing heart, he had announced, “Ginny has gone missing. She was seen going into the Forbidden Forest, but no-one ever saw her come out.”

At that point, Fred left the room. You made to go after him; to check on him, but George’s hand clamped down on your knee, keeping you next to him. Shooting him a puzzled glance, all he said was “Stay,” and that was enough for you.

It didn’t take long for you to find yourself alone with George. Fred having returned but going straight to bed; Ron and his friends following straight after though you all know that no sleep would be had amongst anyone. Not until Ginny was found safe and sound.

You remain on the couch; George’s head remaining on your shoulder as you run one hand through his hair and the other holds his hand tightly. The fire continues to burn; devouring the logs that breathe new life into its flames. Silently, you both watch – too tired emotionally to consider talking to the other.

It’s as you watch the fire turning the logs to ash that you discover the lengths you would go too to protect George from ever feeling like this again.

Fifth Year:

Fifth Year brings with it OWLs. It brings with it the stresses of academic excellence tied in with your growing feelings for the lanky redhead that you found yourself attached to.

The further into Fifth Year, the more you come to understand that your feelings for George Weasley are no longer platonic. In fact, you seem to be harbouring quite the crush on the redhead despite your adamant denials to Hermione, who swore blind that it wasn’t completely obvious and that you had nothing to worry about – George hadn’t noticed a thing.

However, you could no longer the way George made you feel. How simply looking at him had you losing breath; how a simple smile from him had your heart racing so fast that you felt absolutely certain it was to give out. There wasn’t a lot he had to do to have your stomach erupting into butterflies and your palms becoming sweaty; all he had to do was say hello and ask how you were feeling for your mouth to run dry.

You felt the fool more often than not; your worries and fears having you second guess each interaction with him, yet sometimes. Sometimes, you swore you would catch him watching you with the same yearning in his eyes that you know is reflected in yours.

It was moments such as that, that had your fears and worries dissipating, giving way to the more harmful emotion of hope. It blooms in your chest; spreading through your veins like a wildfire as you let yourself think that somewhere in the future, George may just feel the same as you.

------

A hand runs through your hair, and you smile in your sleep, turning your face to it.

“Love,” An all too familiar voice sounds, “It’s almost curfew.”

You grumble; snuggling further into your cushion, feeling confused when it starts to move. You crack one eye open; shooting up when you come to see that you’ve fallen asleep on George’s shoulder. You press your hand to your mouth in shock but also checking that you haven’t drooled on him through your nap. “George,” You ramble, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise I was that tired.”

George waves a hand in a dismissive fashion; ignoring your apology, “Love, I’ve known you a few years now. I’m sure falling asleep on each other was bound to happen at some point.”

That does nothing to comfort you. “Regardless,” You protest, “I doubt the last thing you wanted was for me snoring away on your shoulder.”

George smiles, “It’s fine, love. Besides, they were only small snores.”

“George!” You shout; batting a hand on his shoulder playfully, “I do not snore!”

George mimics zipping his mouth shut; keeping his answer a secret, leaving you in the dark as to whether you snore or not.

Rolling your eyes at the redhead, you ask, “How long was I out?”

“About an hour and a half.”

“Oh…” You trail off; glancing at the clock for the first time tonight, noting how close it was to curfew. You run a hand down your face, “I should probably head back to my common room.”

George clears his throat; running a hand through his hair as he suggests, “Or you could stay here?”

“What?”

“Stay here?” He suggests once more, “By the time you get back to your common room, you’ll no longer be tired and there’s always the chance you’ll get caught by Filch and it really isn’t worth a detention, is it?”

A playful smile spreads over your lips as you shake your head, “It’s not worth getting caught at all. But are you sure?”

George nods, standing and holding out a hand for you, “I’m sure. How different can it be from all the sleepovers over the summers we’ve known each other?”

You take his outstretched hand; keeping it tight within yours as he leads you to his room.

“How are you with sharing a bed with me? I’ll share with Fred or Lee if it makes you uncomfortable.”

A sleepy smile breaks over your face, and George realises then and there that he would do just about anything for you to look at him like that always.

“I just fell asleep on you on the couch. How different is sharing a bed?”

George nods wordlessly; squeezing your hand before letting it drop to rifle through his trunk. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for; an old worn out shirt and a pair of joggers for you to wear to bed.

You smile your thanks as you take it from George. You move to unbutton your blouse at which point George splutters a cough, turning his back on you. He feels the blush heat his cheeks as he hears you laugh quietly.

You pull his t-shirt over your torso; enjoying the softness against your skin and inhaling his familiar scent of gunpowder and honeysuckle. “You can turn around now, George.”

An awkward air settles over the room as George meets your eyes, but it doesn’t last long before your burst into laughter. You offer him the same privacy as he gets changed for bed; he clears his throat to let you know it’s safe turn around. Almost imperceptibly, the air changes between you two, becoming charged with an electricity neither of you were aware of before. It’s heady; it’s has your skin feeling flushed, making you more aware of the plans for tonight.

Reaching up on your tiptoes, you press a soft kiss to his cheek. Pulling back, you whisper, “Thank you for letting me stay the night, George.”

He averts his eyes; unable to meet your gaze for the rush of emotions running through his body from such a simple action. He nods wordlessly once more; smiling at you shyly as he pulls back the covers.

Space is limited in the single beds; it ends up that you lay half over George as his arms wrap around you, keeping you in place.

That night, the both of you come to realisation that sharing a bed means much more now.

Sixth Year:

“An ageing potion?” You demand; entering the hospital wing, feeling nothing short of anger aimed at the twins.

George’s eyes widen as he looks to Fred who wisely turns his attention elsewhere. He watches you take in the aftermath of being vaulted across the room by an age line; the grey hair and the long white beard. He can see the anger simmering through your entire body, but your eyes hold a different emotion – one George cannot put a finger on right not, but he would argue it’s something close to love.

At this point, he can no longer tell his feelings for you apart from what he feels daily. He’s utterly infatuated with you, as his mother likes to remind him each time he goes home. George has stopped disagreeing with her; happy to accept the fact that he fell in love with you a long time ago and has no plans in foreseeable future to ever stop.

You hold a hand over your mouth; repressing the sob that wants to escape. The very thought of him entering such a dangerous competition becoming too much for you. George’s face falls when he sees the tears in your eyes; he reaches out a hand for you, “Love…”

You fall into his embrace willingly; hiding your face in his shoulder as the tears fall down your face. Sniffling pitifully, you fist your hands into his robes, gripping onto him for dear life.

No words are dared uttered as George lets you collect yourself; his hand running through your hair and down your back in a motion that he knows soothes you.

“Why would you do such a foolish thing?” You ask; needing to know why they would put their lives at risk so willingly.

George has the decency to look somewhat ashamed as he utters his answer, “Eternal glory and the prize is a thousand galleons.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “If it had worked, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“But it didn’t, so it’s okay.”

“It isn’t, George! This tournament is so dangerous it poses a real threat to lives. If anything was to happen to you-” A sob breaks free from your lips; halting your sentence as your mind steadfastly refuses to even entertain the very thought of living a life without the Weasley twin.

George pulls you back into his embrace; arms wrapping around you tightly as he rocks you as best he can from where he sits on the hospital bed. His beard tickles your face as you hide it in his chest, clamping your lips shut against the wave of tears threatening to overflow.

One, two, three kisses are placed to the top of your head before George coaxes your face out from where its hidden. Tear filled eyes meet his brown ones to which George suddenly feels rotten about the whole ordeal. He hushes you quietly; offering any and all words of comfort so he no longer has to listen to the utterly heart wrenching noise of your sobs – made all the worse knowing that he was the one to cause them.

“Love, we meant nothing by it, you know that.”

“George, you don’t enter a competition that could quite literally kill for money.”

“What else are we to do if we want to open the shop?”

“We go to a bank and fill out a form for a loan.”

“We?”

You raise your eyebrow, determination lacing your tone and distracting you from your tears, “What? Did you think you were getting rid of me that easily? I won’t work in the shop, but I’ll help you open it in any way I can.”

He hooks an arm around your shoulder; pulling you in once again to drop more kisses to the top of your head, unable to help the emotions surging through him.

Over your shoulder, George makes eye contact with his twin brother. Fred had watched the entire exchange in both awe and with a tinge of jealousy; he couldn’t help but hope he would find something similar to what you and George have. That love that doesn’t need to be named, despite the both of you being somewhat aware of the other’s feelings.

Fred winks at his brother; offering him a thumbs up as he lays down on the bed and closes his eyes. Any attempt to give the near couple one form of privacy or another.

As Fred closes his eyes, George turns his attention back to you. The words don’t need to be said, but he whispers them to you regardless, “I would never leave you. Never.”

He feels you relax against him; the tension seeping from your body as the words land exactly where he meant them too. You fall into the embrace more; gripping onto him tighter and inhaling the smell that is so intoxicatingly him – honeysuckle and gunpowder, and just like that, your heart has calmed, and your mind no longer races with possibilities that may never happen.

Seventh Year:

NEWTs take over your life in Seventh Year; spending more and more time in the library much to the dismay of George. He kicks up a fuss each time you tell him your plans for the evening, yet each evening he doesn’t leave your side as he studies with you.

Truthfully, it’s hard to focus with him so close to you. It’s hard to do much of anything when you have to resist the urge to kiss him senseless each time he smiles at you or flicks a piece of parchment your way.

At this point in your friendship, it could be argued by many outsiders that you were in fact in a relationship. Having been asked many times by younger students, each denial felt like a stab to the gut which is only further reinforced each time you catch him staring at you.

Biting your lip, you return your focus to your studies. Ashamedly admitting to yourself that you had to berate yourself countless times throughout the day for daydreaming about the teenager you’re certain you’ve loved since you were fifteen years old and only just learning the meaning of the word.

Seventh Year was your final year at Hogwarts, and though you were more than certain that George would feature heavily in your life beyond it, you couldn’t help the raw hope that built in your chest and flooded your veins at the mere idea of loving him as more than a friend.

-----------

“You know, I promised myself I would do something at graduation,” George states; pulling you to one side as families begin to gather after the ceremony and students are congratulated further.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” You comment; an eyebrow raised.

George nods; a smile gracing his face, “Yeah, I promised myself I would tell you how I feel about you.”

“And just how do you feel about me, Weasley?”

If it’s at all possible, George’s smile grows larger, “I’m absolutely mad for you, love. So mad for you in fact, that I don’t imagine another future without you in it. So what do you say? Fancy living out the rest of your days with a man who has a thing for pranks and plans on owning a joke shop?”

“I can do you one better.”

“Well I have to hear this.”

You beam up at him; hand already circling his tie, “I fancy living out the rest of my days with my best friend by my side. Morning, noon, and night.”

Arms circling your waist, George laughs lightly, “I think I prefer the sound of that.”

Brushing your lips against his, you whisper, “I knew you would.”

*********

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George Weasley taglist: @susceptible-but-siriusexual

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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

The Fickle Finger of Fate//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Underaged drinking, slight language, one teeny paragraph of sexual content but no details, sexual references(all characters are legally adults in the wizard world), mentions of nudity, mentions of death (minor character), ANGST

Summary: Soulmate AU, but with a twist. How much can someone test fate, and what are the consequences when that happens?

Prompts: "I can't lose you." "You already did." and "Let me go."

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: @love-peachh's writing challenge!! with above prompts and the soulmates trope, the third fic in Abby's Week of Weasley !

~Abby's Week of Weasley Masterlist~ ~Masterlist~

Message me to be on the taglist!

May 1995

Today was the day. The one you had been waiting for your entire life. The day that would change everything for you. Today was the day you would find your soulmate.

It was your sixth year at Hogwarts, and the last day of school was just around the corner. Which meant it was time for you, and the rest of the Sixth Years at Hogwarts to line up and await for your name to be called. One by one you’d step into Dumbledore’s office and perform some sort of ceremony--what is was you weren’t entirely certain--to determine who your soulmate would be.

You bounced with excitement as you met up with Fred and George Weasley, your best friends since first year. They were much less excited about receiving their soulmates, but they laughed and supported your glee.

Truth be told, you were secretly hoping that Fred would be the one you were spending the rest of your life with. You’d had a crush on him for years but had always been too afraid to say anything. If it was announced that you two were destined to be together, then there would be nothing holding you back anymore.

“Excited, are we?” Fred teased, watching you tap your foot in impatience.

“How could you not be!” you exclaimed. “This is when we find out our soulmate, Fred. The person we’ll love for the rest of our lives! It’s kind of a big deal.”

He only shrugged, not caring in the slightest. “We’re 17. We’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, why do we need to be tied down so early?”

“I second that,” said George. “I’m all for settling down once I’m older, but knowing who it’s gonna be with? It feels kind of weird.”

“Oh, you two just aren’t romantics,” you said, sighing dreamily. “Trust me, after this everything is going to change,”

And it did.

The second you completed the ceremony where Dumbledore cast a spell that read into your soul, the name of your soulmate was hovering in the air above you. Fred Weasley.

You almost cried with joy and you rushed out of the room, telling Fred that he had to go next and see who he got. You were on the edge of your seat waiting for him to reemerge, for him to say that it was you and always had been, for him to sweep you off your feet and pull you into the first of your many sweet kisses.

When Fred finally exited the office he looked at you and smiled. But it wasn’t at all what you were expecting. He didn’t seem enthusiastic at all. In fact, the smile he sent you was the same one he always did, a friendly teasing grin.

You shook your head, telling yourself not to overthink things. You two were meant to be together, it was fate.

“So,” you prodded, “who was your soulmate?”

Fred’s grin faltered and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “Can we go somewhere to talk? Somewhere private?”

You agreed after a moment of shock, nerves trembling in your stomach. Why wasn’t he happy? What did he have to talk about?

The both of you ended up in a secluded corner of the castle and you sat down next to him, his hands holding yours. “So, I’m assuming that I’m your soulmate?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” you said. “And you’re mine?”

He nodded and you felt your insides burst. You knew everything would work out. Fred Weasley was meant to be with you. Slowly, you leaned in toward him, tilting your head to the side and licking your lips slightly.

Fred moved back.

“Freddie?” you asked, wondering why he was hesitating.

He nervously rubbed the back of his neck, giving you a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Look, Y/N, don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad it’s you. I think that some day the two of us would make a great couple! We already know so much about each other and we’re so comfortable with each other that I’d be surprised if my soulmate was someone else. But…”

There it was. The but. Everything was supposed to be perfect today, it was all supposed to come together. What was going on?

“But…” he continued, “ we’re young. And we’re destined to spend our whole lives together, so, why don’t we just...put a pin in it?”

“Put a pin in it?” you asked unbelievingly.

“Sorry,” he said, “wrong choice of words. What I’m saying is, we have plenty of time. Why rush into things? How about you do your thing and I’ll do mine, and then when we’re older we can see how things are going. Sound good?”

Your mouth suddenly went dry, hands becoming clammy and tears welling up in your eyes. He wanted you, but not now. He wanted other girls now. But he was your soulmate. It would all work out in the end. It had to.

“Y-yeah,” you said, desperately holding back your tears. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Great!” Fred said, pulling you into a hug. “I knew I could count on you, you’re the best.”

“Mhmm,” you muttered. “The best.”

Fred kept holding you for a few seconds before getting up and running to find out who his twin got for his soulmate. You stayed sitting on the corridor floor, wondering how in the world the best day of your life had suddenly turned into the worst.

No, you chided yourself. This was Fred, and he and you were meant to be together. You’d find your way back to each other someday. You sighed a breath of relief and stood up, wiping away the few teardrops that managed to make their way out. It was ok. It would all be ok.

September 1995

“Fred! George! How was your summer?” You were sitting in one of the compartments of the Hogwarts Express, waiting for the twins to join you. They arrived looking exceptionally happy and exceptionally good looking. You assumed they must’ve had a very eventful few months.

“Hey!” said George. “It was great. We moved to a house in London for the summer, long story, but Harry and Hermione were there so it kept Ron out of our hair.”

“Yeah, it was fantastic,” said Fred, plopping down in his usual seat next to you and throwing his legs across your lap. “We got to meet so many new people. And so many new girls.”

George and you both stiffened, but Fred was none the wiser.

“There was this one girl,” he continued, “she was so hot. I swear I shagged her on every piece of furniture in that house. What a summer.”

You remained silent, hands folded and your head gazing down at Fred’s feet below you. A part of you thought that maybe he was joking, that maybe he was saying this to get you all worked up and he would ask you out later that day. But one look at George’s guilt-ridden face and you knew exactly what Fred’s summer had consisted of.

Fred looked around as the silence passed, wondering why everyone had suddenly become so quiet. “How about you, Y/N, anything fun happen?”

“Well umm, nothing too exciting,” you said. “Mostly hung out with some old friends, went swimming a lot.” You looked at Fred, wondering if you could get a reaction out of him. “There...there was this one guy.”

That wasn’t a complete lie. There was this one guy, your best friend's cousin, who you had spent a lot of time with in the last three months. You would drive around late at night and get up early to watch the sunset. But one night when he kissed you, you had to pull away. Your heart belonged to Fred, and it felt like cheating to be making out with someone who wasn’t your soulmate. Apparently Fred didn’t have the same sentiment.

“That’s great!” he exclaimed, the complete opposite reaction you were looking for. You had wanted him to get upset, jealous even. But if anything he looked relieved. “See,” he whispered so only you could hear, “I told you this would work out. We each do our own thing and get together in a long while. This is perfect!”

You didn’t say anything, only smiled and leaned back into your seat. George subtly moved forward and put a comforting hand on your knee, letting you know that he understood and he was with you. You gave him a reassuring look. It would be ok. Fred had probably gotten it out of his system over the summer. You could see how things went this year.

February 1996

Gryffindor parties were always the events of the month, rivaled only by Slytherin’s secret and exclusive gatherings. There was everything any teenager needed: food, firewhisky, and sex.

You and Angelina were taking shots in the corner, laughing and stumbling over yourselves. You scanned the crowded common room, eyes focusing on George dancing like a madman in the middle of the room, knocking over a few girls with how wildly he was moving.

You looked at your friend who was gazing lovingly at the ginger boy. “Hey,” you said, “can I ask you something.”

Angelina took her eyes off of George and gave you her full attention. “Of course.”

“When you and George found out you were each other’s soulmates, what happened? I mean, you weren’t dating before but you got together over the summer. Aren’t you worried you’re missing out on other people?”

Your friend knew where this was really coming from. She grabbed you a drink and took you to sit down. “Thing is,” she said, “at first we didn’t want to date. We both kind of thought that we weren’t ready for anything too serious, so we did our own thing for a few months. But we kept writing over the summer and I realized that he’s my best friend and I didn’t want to go any longer without being with him. As much as the both of us hate the concept of settling down, we realized that we don’t have to suddenly turn around and be married. We’re taking it one day at a time, but constantly talking about our relationship and where we think it’s going.”

You nodded, starting to understand. “Are you guys exclusive? Or are you seeing other people as well?”

“We’re exclusive. Like I said we’re nothing serious, but we don’t want to mess up what we have. So far it’s going great, just taking it slow and getting to know each other even more. Is there a reason you’re asking me this?”

You muttered a “no” but Angelina didn’t believe you for a second.

“How are things with Fred?” she asked. “Have you two been talking about your relationship?”

“Not really,” you said. “He likes to ignore the fact that we’re soulmates. Nothing has changed since we found out. But it’s ok though, we’re just waiting until we’re ready.”

Your friend watched you take another shot of firewhisky, face scrunching up in distaste. You had looked so sad the past few months, and Angelina knew the reason. “But you’re ready now, aren’t you?”

You whipped your head around, groaning as the quick motion made you dizzy. “What…” you said, holding your throbbing head, “what do you mean?”

“You love him. You have for forever, Y/N, and this must be killing you.”

“No!” you argued. “It’s fine. Fred will tell me when he’s ready for a relationship and we can settle down then.”

“And wreck yourself in the process?” Angelina asked. “Y/N, love, I know that you two are soulmates, but you can’t let him treat you like this! He goes out and does what he wants and who he wants, knowing that you’ll always be there when he’s bored of all the other girls. You’re his fallback.”

Angry tears fell from your face. “I am not!” you yelled. “He loves me, he just doesn’t want anything serious, and I’m ok with that.”

“No you’re not!” she yelled back. “It’s tearing you apart. You need to talk to him.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried!”

Angelina went silent at this new information, watching you finally break down.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried talking to him, explaining that if we’re soulmates then maybe we should act like it. It kills me seeing him bring a different girl back to his dorm every night when he’s supposed to be with me.” You hit your head against the wall behind you hard enough that you knew there would be a bruise in the morning, but you didn’t care. “But every time he gets mad at me, saying that he can’t settle down, that he’s too young, that I’m being selfish and impatient.”

Angelina wrapped you up in a warm hug, stroking the back of your head softly. “Then you need to move on Y/N. If he doesn’t care about your feelings, then I’m sorry but you need to find someone else.”

You sniffled, lifting your gaze and seeing a Ravenclaw girl grinding up on Fred. He whispered something in her ear and dragged her out of the common room and up to his dorm. “I can’t,” you said. “He’s my soulmate. It’s destiny. We’re meant to be together, even if that means I have to break a little every time he’s with someone else. It’ll all work out, you’ll see.”

Angelina continued to hold you tightly, praying that one day you would see what was really happening.

April 1996

Cheers erupted from hundreds of students, all of whom were crowded in the courtyard, watching their new heroes fly away from Umbridge’s reign of terror. You stood silently on the outskirts of the group, disbelief coursing through you.

How could he leave you? You thought that he would at least tell you about it, at least sit you down and explain the future of your relationship. Would you stay in touch? Would you visit his shop often and hang out with him and George? Where was your friendship, and more importantly your relationship, going?

You pushed your way through the crowd, wanting more than ever to be alone right now. Angelina stopped you, a wide grin on her face. “Y/N! Did you see that? Oh I’ve been waiting weeks for them to finally make their escape, it was even better than I imagined.”

“You…” you said slowly, “you knew? They told you?”

“Of course! George told me a while ago. Didn’t Fred tell you?”

“I have to go,” you muttered, ignoring her calls and running back into the abandoned castle. You made it back to your dorm and threw yourself onto your bed, curling up into a ball.

You’d given Fred the benefit of the doubt so many times. You understood that he wanted to fool around for a while and you let him. But you thought that maybe once school was over things would change. Apparently you would never know, because he didn’t bother to even have a conversation about your future.

You should try to get over him. Yes, two months of no Fred would be perfect for you! You could see other people, something you hadn’t done in over a year, and it would be the perfect distraction.

But then you remembered his warm brown eyes and soft ginger hair. How happy he could make you with just one touch. You couldn’t give up on him, you were being foolish. Fate was never wrong. You just needed to keep waiting. Everything would be fine in time.

January 1997

Small snowflakes fluttered to the ground, the cold crisp air whipping your face as you made your weekly trip to Diagon Alley to visit Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. After you had graduated the first thing you did was run off the train and make your way to the shop. Fred and George were delighted to see you and they immediately talked about their success so far with their planning. Neither you nor Fred brought up what happened months ago.

After the first encounter, things seemed to go back to normal. You got a job at The Ministry involving Curse Breaking, which you enjoyed very much. You’d get up every day excited to go to work, and every Sunday afternoon you’d enter your friends’ shop for a day of talking and goofing around.

And just as things had remained the same, that included your relationship with Fred. He’d mention his different hookups, sometimes going into extreme detail that you really didn’t want to know. You asked him to stop talking about that and he did, but he didn’t stop his actions.

Today was the day you were going to talk with him. You couldn’t keep putting yourself through this heartbreak if it wasn’t going to end any time soon. It was the last chance you were giving him.

“Hey Freddie,” you said as you walked through the shop doors.

“Hey, love, how’s it going?”

“Pretty good, I was wondering if we could talk, somewhere private maybe?”

“Of course,” he replied, taking you up to the loft. You entered the familiar place and plopped down on the couch, hearing the shower running in the bathroom.

“Is George here,” you asked as he brought you a cup of coffee.

“Umm, not exactly,” Fred replied sheepishly. “The bathroom’s currently occupied by the person who occupied my time last night, if you know what I mean.”

You did. Your face turned red, whether with embarrassment or anger you didn’t know, hearing that the girl Fred hooked up with was just a room away from you. Gathering up all the strength you could, you finally told him everything you’d been holding back.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about, actually.”

“My hookups?” Fred asked quizzically. “I thought you didn’t want to hear about those.”

“No,” you said shaking your head. “I wanted to talk about us. And where we’re going in the future.”

Fred groaned and threw his head back on the couch, rubbing his temple. “Oh not this again, Y/N. I thought we agreed that we’re too young for anything serious.”

“Well when I said that, I thought you meant that we’d finish out school and see where things went after that. We’re bloody adults now, shouldn’t we be talking about where we want this to go?” You were growing angry, not expecting Fred to be so blunt and rude about your feelings.

“I’m still 18, Y/N! I’m not ready for anything yet.”

“And when will you be? You keep saying you’re not ready and I keep staying by your side, waiting for that moment when you finally decide you love me. So when’s it gonna be, huh? Am I wasting my time?”

“I don’t know!” he exclaimed. “You’re being so annoying right now, why can’t we just be friends and figure it out when we get there?”

“Because I’m tired of giving you every part of me when you give me nothing in return! I...I can’t do this anymore.”

“I think that’s for the best.”

“I--excuse me?”

Fred stood up, gesturing for you to follow him. “How about we spend some time away from each other? You can work out whatever feelings you want to, and when I’m ready to settle down I’ll come find you.”

You were speechless, absolutely dumbfounded. Fred couldn’t be serious, could he? He’d come find you, like you were some lost puppy that belonged to him?

Fred grabbed your shoulders and gave you a peck on the forehead. “We’re soulmates, baby. There’s no rush for anything. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

This was it. This was what Angelina had warned you about. He was so comfortable knowing that you'd have to end up together that he didn’t bother to put in the effort. He knew no matter how many times he messed up, you would always be right around the corner ready to jump into his waiting arms. This was the last chance you had given him, and he blew it.

“I’ll just be going then,” you said, grabbing your things.

You stormed out of the room but Fred didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. Or maybe he did notice and he just didn’t care. You would always come back to him, wouldn’t you?

“Love ya, Y/N,” he called before turning his attention to the wet girl who was exiting his bathroom.

You left the loft in a hurry, not even bothering to say hi to George on the way out of the shop. You used to believe in fate and destiny, and deep down you still did. But you couldn’t keep counting on the universe to provide you with happiness when only one of you was putting in the effort. Almost two years of pining later, you decided it was time to move on.

May 1999

Fred slowly came down from his high, panting heavily and groaning in pleasure. He rolled off of the girl he was with this week, a cute blonde he had met at a bar, and stared up at the ceiling trying to catch his breath.

It was a good ride. It was always good, Fred prided himself in his abilities and the girls he was with were usually just as spectacular. But the past few months he had been growing tired of it.

Sure, he loved going out and meeting hot girls, dancing with them and bringing them back to his place for one night of lust and passion. But even that gets old after a while, and after years of thinking with his body, he was finally ready to think with his head and his heart. He was ready to see you.

The next day, Fred got dressed up, putting on a nice sweater and trousers, buying a bouquet of roses from a nearby flower shop. He hadn’t contacted you to let you know he was coming. He wanted it to be a surprise, and besides, you would definitely be thrilled to see him.

He made his way to your old place, hoping that you still lived there. He hadn’t seen you in over two years, not since the two of you decided to stop seeing each other until Fred was ready. And now, after long last, he was.

He knocked on the door of your apartment, bouncing on his toes in anticipation of seeing you for the first time in so long. He bet you’d gotten even hotter, and were somehow even kinder and funnier than you were before. To his surprise, it wasn’t you who opened the door, but a familiar face from back in his school days.

“Pucey?”

Adrian Pucey, a Slytherin in your year, was standing in the doorway, with ruffled hair and a bear chest with gray sweatpants. He smiled apprehensively at Fred, remembering how the two of them had never gotten along back in school.

“Hey Fred. What’re you doing here?”

“I’m here to see my soulmate,” Fred said, anger and jealousy evident in his tone.

Adrian paused and his smile vanished. He looked as if he wanted to slam the door in Fred’s face and never see him again. Fred then heard a voice calling from inside, and he peaked around to see you sprawled out on the couch wrapped up in a blanket.

“Adrian? Who’s there?” you asked.

“Babe, you might want to come see for yourself.”

Fred grimaced at the nickname. Any suspicions he had that you were dating Adrian were now confirmed, and he hated seeing you with anyone else.

As you reached the door you looked shocked to see Fred there, holding a large bouquet of flowers for you. “Why don’t you head back in, love,” you said to your boyfriend. “I’ll handle this.”

He smiled and pecked you lips, giving Fred one last glare before letting you shut yourself and Fred out in the hallway.

“It’s been a while,” you said. “What’s up?”

“Well,” Fred said, trying to hand you the roses but you refused, “I was thinking last night. About us, and about how I’m ready. To be with you.”

If he thought you were going to be elated about this news and drop everything, including your boyfriend, to be with him, he was completely wrong. You just stood there, looking if anything sad for him. “Oh Freddie.”

“What?” he asked, heart thumping in his chest. “What does that mean? I said I’m ready to settle down! To be with you. Isn’t that what you want?”

You scoffed, putting your hand on your temple like he did to you so any years before. “Look, I’m flattered, and I’m glad you’re finally ready to have something real. But it’s not going to be with me.”

Fred could physically feel his heart shatter into a million pieces at those words. “Not with you? What does that even mean, Y/N? We’re bloody soulmates!”

“Yeah well you didn’t seem to care about us being soulmates the countless times I wanted to talk to you about it!”

“I wasn’t ready then!”

“But I was! And you didn’t even take my feelings into consideration. I was constantly by your side, waiting for you to confess your feelings and ask me to be yours. Every day I broke a little more, because you treated me like absolute shit. So I’m done waiting Fred. I’ve moved on”

Fred couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You were supposed to be in love with him! The two of you were soulmates for a reason, how could you just settle down with someone else?

“What about Adrian’s soulmate?” he asked, voicing his thoughts. “Aren’t you depriving him of true love?”

You sighed heavily and looked at the closed door behind you, lowering your voice. “Adrian’s soulmate died a few years ago. She got really sick and didn’t make it. I ran into him while he was trying to get over her loss, and we really connected. We’ve been together for about a year now, and we’re both really happy.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Fred said, pacing up and down the hall. “We’re soulmates Y/N. The universe destined us to be together.”

Shaking your head you replied, telling Fred the conclusion you had come to after years of pain. “I don’t think it works like that. Soulmates aren’t two people who are going to be together no matter what happens. They’re two souls who, if they both contribute and try in the relationship, would make a perfect pair. But you, Fred, never tried. And I finally got over it. I love Adrian, and I’m happy about my decision.”

“No, no no no,” Fred said, growing panicked. “This can’t be it, Y/N, I can’t lose you.”

“You already did.”

Fred’s lip quivered slightly, eyes searching yours for any telltale sign that this was a joke. Some huge, elaborate prank. But it wasn’t. It took you a lot of time and soul searching, but you were at peace. You were fine without your soulmate, because for so many years he had been fine without you.

“Let me go, Freddie. Because I let you go a long time ago.”

The two of you stood there, all feelings out in the open. Fred had never felt so vulnerable around someone, and he never thought once that he would have to let you go.

The door slowly creaked open and Adrian stepped back out, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head. “You alright, darling?”

You kept looking at Fred, imagining all of the things that could’ve been, that never would be. “Yeah, I’m fine. Fred was just leaving.”

You turned around to your apartment, not even bothering to look back. Before you shut the door, Fred could see a beautiful smile grace your lips at something Adrian had said. You were happy. He was making you happy.

In a perfect world, you and Fred would be an ideal match. If both of you put in the effort and tried for the best, you’d have the best relationship possible. It was fate.

But fate is a fickle thing. You can’t try to trick destiny into doing what you want. Fred had thought that no matter what he did, the universe would give him what he believed he deserved. The universe doesn’t work like that.

Maybe, if he had taken some form of responsibility for his actions and actually cared about what was happening in the moment, it could’ve been him cuddling up next to you, falling asleep with his arms around you and hearing how much you loved him. But he didn’t. He tested fate, and he would forever pay the price for his actions.

Tag List: @famdomhideout

#lovepeachh600writingchallenge #abby's week of weasley #fredweasley #fred #fredweasleyfic #georgeweasley #george weasley #soulmates #soulmate au #harry potter #hogwarts #weasleys wizard wheezes #fred weasley

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weelittleweasley · 3 years

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Transfer Student | Draco x Reader

Prompt: After transferring from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to Hogwarts, all of Hogwarts’ eyes is on the new girl. An American Gryffindor? Everyone wants to be your friend, steal a glance from you, or ask you on a date. Can Draco resist the hype or will he end up all for the new girl?

Warnings: None! Just some fluff and longing looks from bitch boy Malfoy

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: My requests box is very full oh my LORD. I’m trying to churn them out as consistency as possible, so if I skip a day with no imagines, it’s mostly for me to take a breather and catch up on my actual work for my job and school.

America was home, no matter where you were in the world. You grew up an American and lived your life with that culture and their customs. Going to school at Ilvermorny was a treat. Tucked away in the mountains in Massachusetts, it was your happy place, full of other kids from across America, studying magic. But things changed drastically when your father was offered a position at the Ministry of Magic overseas in London. Your parents were thrilled, a prestigious job in a new country; your father accepted the position, no question. You on the other hand were more nervous than anything. Moving meant new school, new friends, new start. Not to mention, if you moved within the country, you would still attend Ilvermorny. But now that you were moving overseas, it really meant a new start with a whole different school with a whole different body of students.

Your mother was insistent that you would be just fine starting at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. “Mom,” you insist, “I’m an American among a sea of people from the UK. I’m going to be a fish out of water. They’ll know the moment I open up my mouth!”

But there was no changing their minds. You were moving to London whether you liked it or not. So you had to say goodbye to all of your friends at Ilvermorny. Although you expressed your anxieties about moving and switching schools, the rest of your friends were jealous of your move. Saying how London was a beautiful city and they were so jealous of all the culture and events happening. It did seem exciting, you always wanted to visit Europe, but not like this.

Soon enough, you were on a plane to London from America, your things packed up and ready to ship you off to Hogwarts. When you arrived, your heart raced with excitement and nerves. London was a little grey and stormy, but it was still beautiful. People most melodically and dressed neatly. Men in suits, carrying around briefcases, heads tilted down as they ran to work. Women dressed cleanly and beautifully, walking to work, in and out of shoppes. Your mother gave your hand a squeeze as your father insisted you took the Tube to your new home.

London was very different from your hometown. Much more hustle and bustle with busy people, but its people were much kinder than Americans. Strangers offered you small smiles as you looked at your surroundings. As you arrived to your new home, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Everything was different. Even the oven. You couldn’t think about how long it was going to take to get you adjusted to this life. You drag your suitcases into your room, flipping open the latches. “Don’t bother unpacking, honey,” your mom calls. “You leave for Hogwarts tomorrow, remember?”

Your stomach sinks. You couldn’t even get used to your new home because tomorrow you had to get used to your new life at Hogwarts.

The next morning, you arrived at the train station, confused as ever. Your mom and dad walked with you through the station, interrogating you on what to tell the Professors when they asked for your information at arrival. “My name is (Y/N), I’m the transfer student from Ilvermorny, I’m going to be a junior,” you start.

“You’re a sixth year student,” your father corrects. You look at him, confused. “The education system here is different, sweetie. You’ll technically be going into year six at Hogwarts.”

Sighing, you know that this was going to take some getting used to.

----

You watched your parents wave goodbye to you, your mother with tears in her eyes. Your heart drops, not wanting to leave your parents to go off to somewhere that was completely foreign to you. As the view of your parents fades, you walk through the train, looking for an empty stall to sit. People sat with groups of friends, laughing, picking up right where they left off. Why couldn’t you have been a first year student? This would have made things so much easier. As a sixth year, everyone had friend groups and you would have to wiggle your way into one.

Finally, you find an empty car and plop yourself down on the seat, laying your head back. Here’s to the start of a miserable year, you think to yourself. You play with the charm bracelet on your wrist that your mother gave to you when you started school at Ilvermorny. The bracelet had a Thunderbird charm on it, the mascot of your house at Ilvermorny, and the same house as you parents. You were a proud Thunderbird, but now you had to be sorted into a new house with a new breed of people. You only hoped that whichever house you were sorted into had the same type of people as Thunderbird did.

As you mindlessly play with the charms on your bracelet, the car that you sat in’s doors slid open. “Are you alone?” a blonde haired girl asks you, noticing you amongst the chaos of the cars around you. “Would you like some company?”

“That would be nice, actually,” you offer her a thankful smile.

The blonde haired girl sits down in the booth across from you, pushing all of her thick hair to one shoulder. “Your accent,” she notices, her eyes widening. “It’s American,” her dainty English accent points out as you blush in embarrassment. “It’s lovely.” You slightly smile and blush, silently thanking her. “Are you a transfer student from Ilvermorny?”

You nod, “Yeah, actually. My name is (Y/N), by the way. I’m a jun-I mean a sixth year student.”

“I’m Luna,” she shakes your hand politely. “I also a sixth year. Look! You’ve only been here for five minutes and you’ve already made a friend in your year!” Your heart swell at the word friend. At least you at Luna to tag along with. The two of you talk for a while, you telling her about America and why your family moved to England, confiding in her about your nervousness about the new school and making new friends. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble making friends, (Y/N). Everyone at Hogwarts is very friendly. Besides, once you get sorted into your house you’ll make a ton of friends that way!” Your stomach churns. “Do you reckon what house you’ll be sorted into?”

Shaking your head, you reply, “Nope. Back at Ilvermorny I was a Thunderbird. But I don’t know if that means I’ll get sorted into a specific house at Hogwarts.” You reach into your backpack and pull out a pack of Fruit Roll Ups. “Want one?” you open the box to her as she gives you a hesitant look. “It’s good I promise,” you giggle. “If you don’t like it, you can force me to eat a gross British snack,” you tempt as she laughs before taking one from the box.

The two of you sit in the car, peeling open your Fruit Roll Ups, munching on the sticky snack. As you laugh at Luna getting it stuck in her teeth, another person comes to the car door, sliding open, making you yelp out scared, them surprising you. “What’s that?” the red headed boy asks, referring to the snack you munch on. You just look at him, bewildered that he just burst through, no introduction, no hello, no nothing. “Oh, hi Luna,” he smiles as Luna waves. The red headed boy looks at you. “You’re new,” he states as if you didn’t know. “I’m Ron Weasley,” he smiles at you warmly, making every bad thought about him leave your mind.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you reply before tossing the ginger a Fruit Roll Up. He catches it, eyes wide with excitement as he tears it open.

Ron sits next to Luna as he peels his Roll Up. “Your accent. You’re an American,” he points out as he looks to Luna who smiles sweetly.

You tease, “Really? I didn’t notice.” This makes Ron let out a chuckle before eating his Fruit Roll Up in two bites. “I’m a transfer from Ilvermorny.”

“Ron! Where did you go?” a voice calls from the hall. Suddenly, a girl with brown hair, wrapped in a stripped cardigan appears with a worried look on her face. It instantly relaxes when she sees Ron sitting next to Luna and you, wrappers in his hand from the Fruit Roll Up. “Ron, you can’t just interrupt two people’s conversation and then eat their snacks.”

Ron puts his hands up in defense. “She offered it to me!”

The girl rolls her eyes at his antics before walking into your car. The booth was getting awfully full very quickly. “I’m sorry about him. He has the mental capacity of a teaspoon,” she says, making Ron let out an offended hey! “I’m Hermione Granger. You are?”

You shake her extended hand with a smile. “(Y/N), I’m a transfer student fr-”

“Ilvermorny! I heard we were getting an American, but I didn’t believe it! Wow! It’s so nice to meet you,” she exclaims, scooting closer next to you. “Are you excited to be here? Which house do you think you’ll be sorted into? From what I’ve heard about you, you were a Thunderbird, correct? I reckon you’ll be a Gryffindor by the looks of it,” Hermione fires away. You were little taken aback by how forward she was, but you had to admit it was sweet.

All of your fears of not being able to make any friends slowly faded away.

----

It has been a week since you arrived at Hogwarts. As Hermione had predicted, you were sorted into Gryffindor, making her cheer out in delight. “Yay! More girls!” she hugged you tight when you entered the Gryffindor common room. “They can be much,” she refers to Harry and Ron behind her with a little giggle.

You had to say so far, you adjusted well to Hogwarts. You did miss your friends back home, but whenever you started to miss them, you found Hermione or Luna and they would always cheer you up and make you feel right back at home. Your classes were interesting, but hard at Hogwarts. Your Professors were all brilliant, some more intimidating than others. Regardless, you worked hard for your grades, doing study groups with Hermione, quizzing yourself with Luna, and spending countless nights in the library.

However, much to your surprise, you were the talk of the halls at Hogwarts. Whenever you were in the hallways, you would feel people’s eyes on you as you walked beside Luna, whispers throwing your name around. Your anxiety grew. What did people think of you? Did they think you were strange? Did they hate that an American was in the school?

It was actually quite the opposite. People were fascinated by you and how charismatic you were. You were kind to everyone, offering people smiles, making conversation in the Great Hall during meals, offering help with studying. You were the it girl of Hogwarts.

That was a new concept for you since you always blended in at Ilvermorny. Maybe it was time for a change. You were getting invited to parties, asked to hang out on weekends in Hogsmeade, and not to mention, you were a few people’s crushes. “Hi (Y/N),” Seamus waved at you with a shy smile.

“Hey, Seamus,” you smile back, brightly, unaware of his blossoming crush on you. His cheeks turned beet red as you wiggled your fingers back at him. Hermione laughs next to you as a bunch of Gryffindor boys in your year watch you walk down the hall, you tossing your hair over your shoulder. “What’s so funny, Granger?” you ask, pushing her shoulder lightly. “Is it so strange that I say hi to everyone in the halls?”

She just shakes her head. “Are you that blind?” she laughs. “(Y/N), nearly every boy in our year fancies you.” You furrow your brows. Hermione groans, knowing you didn’t understand her slang. “The boys all think you’re cute. They’ve got crushes on you.”

Rolling your eyes is disbelief, you enter your History of Magic class. “Yeah, right, Hermione. The day everyone has a crush on me is the day pigs fly,” you plop down in your chair, grabbing your book out of your satchel. “Besides, I’m sure it’s just the new girl crush. It’ll be over within the next week, I’m sure of it.”

Hermione looks at you knowingly. “(Y/N), you’ve been here for two months now.” You just ignore her comment and continue getting ready to take notes for class. “There’s no denying that you are the popular girl,” she teases you as you fake gag. “I’m serious. I dare you to flirt with anyone in here and see their reaction,” she whispers to you.

You look around the room to see who would be the person most likely to shoot you down if you flirted with them. Two desks over was Blaise Zabini sat next to Draco Malfoy. You smirked and nudged Hermione as if to say watch this. “Blaise?” you ask, his head shooting up to look at you. “I think I forgot my quill. Do you have one I could borrow?” you bat your eyes at him.

A cheeky grin comes across his face as he hands you the one in his hand. “Forgetful today?” he smirks as you giggle. “You can borrow my quill any day,” he winks at you as Hermione fake gags, making Zabini rolls his eyes.

“Why don’t you ask Granger for one next time? The mudblood is always prepared,” Draco speaks from behind Zabini.

Anger rises in your chest as Malfoy laughs about your best friend. “Why don’t you just keep your fat trap shut and cry to daddy about how much you hate this school, Malfoy? No one wants to hear it out of you, least of all me,” you spit before turning away to do your work. Hermione smiles as you, squeezing your hand. “See? Malfoy doesn’t have a crush on me!” you tell her, making her laugh.

Meanwhile, Draco glares at Zabini. “Don’t tell me you fancy the American girl too.” Zabini keeps his mouth shut, knowing what’s best for him. “What is everyone’s obsession with her? She’s American, not from outer space.”

Blaise shakes his head. “Come on, Malfoy. She’s proper fit, isn’t she? Not to mention, she’s quite cheeky and has good banter.”

Draco just slaps Blaise upside the head. “Oh, please,” he huffs. “There’s plenty of girls like that in this school. She’s not the only one.”

Throughout class Draco thinks to himself about what the entirety of Hogwarts’ student body saw in you. He ignored the lecture going on in the front of the classroom and dreamily watched you during class. You sat there, biting down on your lower lip gently in concentration, scribbling down notes as your nose scrunched up when a question came to mind. He could see the wheels churning in your head when you asked a question and then the lightbulb flick on when it was answered and it made sense. You let a small dance play on your lips when you answered a question correctly faster than Hermione. You hair flopped on head perfect as you pushed strands back as they fell. Your eyes twinkled with curiosity and playfulness like a child. Draco’s heart thumped a little louder when you let out a giggle when the professor made an awful joke. His heart nearly stopped when you looked over at him and caught his gaze, your cheeks taking a rosy hue as you looked away shyly. Draco didn’t look away for a second. He wanted you to know he was observing you. Shit, he silently thought as he felt his heart rate pick up when you sent a cheeky wink his way. He was caught.

You left class that day, a little pep in your step. You didn’t think much about people having a crush on you, but something about Draco Malfoy staring at you during class made you giggly. “What are you on about?” Hermione pokes your side. “I know you aren’t happy about that lecture, so spill.”

“Nothing,” you smile as you walk down the hall. “Can’t I just be happy?”

Hermione rolls her eyes. She had a feeling she knew what was happen, but rather than embarrass you about it, she kept to herself. “Alright,” she sing-songs.

------

The more time passed the more Draco found himself thinking about you and itching to get to class just so he could tune the professor out at steal longing glances at you. Sometimes you would catch him as he sent a little wink your way as you blushed. Sometimes he would catch you staring at him which gave him way too much satisfaction of knowing you liked him just as much as he liked you.

You had no problem talking to boys, but Draco was different. You didn’t talk to him much because you were too scared you were going to embarrass yourself in front of him.

But Draco on the other hand found any excuse to walk right up to you in the halls and strike up conversation. He would see you walk down the hall, his eyes zeroing in on, dismissing his friend group as he made his way up to you. He didn’t care who you were with whether it was Luna or Hermione. Draco just slid himself next to you with a sly, “Where are you off to, American girl?”

You did not try to stop the blush from appearing on your cheeks. “What’s it to you, Malfoy?” you tease as he laughs.

“I’d walk you there if you let me,” he suggested as you glanced to Luna or Hermione as they would fall behind to walk to class with Ron or Harry. “Ah, alone at last,” he’d tease as your friend walked away, earning a teasingly slap from you. “Don’t worry, I won’t try and pull anything on you.”

As you sat in another class of History of Magic, you doodled in your notebook. When the professor turned his back to write on the chalkboard, you see a small origami dove fly over to your desk. Curiosity gets the best of you as you peel it open to see a little note scribbled on the inside.

American Girl,

I need to ask you a very important question.

You look to your left to see Draco staring straight ahead at the board, but his eyes look towards you with a sneaky smile on his lips. You shake your head, a grin teasing your lips as you write back, And what would that be, Mr. Malfoy?

When the professor turns back around, you send the note back to him. You watch him scribble for a while, your curiosity eating away inside of you. Finally, he folds the note back up and send it your way quickly.

The note lands back on your desk as you ravenously open it, dying to know what the question was.

You. Me. Hogsmeade. This Saturday.

Your heart flutters and you want to giggle, but you hide your smile and scribble back coyly, That’s not a question, Malfoy.

Again, you send it back his way, watching him open it as you bite your lip to contain your smile as you pretend to pay attention to the class. From your peripheral vision, you watch him scribble back. The note lands back on your desk and you let it sit there for a second, making Malfoy sweat. You let a solid ten seconds pass before looking at the note, pretending to be shocked to see it on your desk, before peeling it open slowly as Malfoy lightly laughs, watching you do so.

So it that a yes?

You smile and write out as slowly as you possibly can. It’s a yes.

The note makes its way back to Draco’s desk as he catches it from the air, ripping it open. He smiles impossibly wider and laughs a “yes,” a little too loud for your professor to hear.

“Mr. Malfoy? Would you like to share something with the class?” your Professor asks.

Draco realizes that everyone’s eyes on him, including you as a deep shade of pink rises to your cheeks. Draco sends you a wink before standing up from his seat, your heart beating fast. What is he doing? “Actually, yes,” he retorts. “I’ve got a date with the new girl,” he declares. Girls all turn to you before immediately whispering to those around them as some boys groan and others cheer Malfoy on.

You just sit there, blushing like a fool. Hermione grabs your arm. “No way,” she speaks.

“You better believe it,” you whisper, eyes not leaving Draco’s as Zabini high fives him. Saturday could not come quicker.

#draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fanficiton #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years

Note

I'm curious, what are your thoughts on Canon Harry, Hermione, and Ron?

Given my absolute trashing everyone else and sparse comments on Harry, you can probably guess.

I honestly don’t even know where to start with this.

I guess we’ll start with Harry.

Harry Potter

First, sorry guys, Harry is painfully stupid. It’s not that he doesn’t try hard academically, that he’s not book smart, or that he’s just acting his own age, he is honestly, truly, painfully dumb and is consistently an idiot throughout the entire series.

Let’s take third year as a random example. Harry’s informed there’s a mass murdering Death Eater on the loose that has the country in such a panic that they send dementors to Hogwarts, he is told directly that this guy has motive to come directly after him, he even notices that he’s kept a close eye on that summer in Diagon Alley.

Harry decides that his life is a bottomless pit of despair if he can’t go to Hogsmeade every month with everyone else. Not even if he doesn’t get the candy, Hermione and Ron bring him that afterwards, but not going at all brings him misery. And I get it, it sucks to be stuck in the castle when all your friends get to go on a field trip. BUT HARRY, HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN WHY EVERYONE’S MAKING YOU STAY IN THE CASTLE?! Harry’s response is he isn’t afraid of death because... he isn’t afraid of death. Really, it’s not so much that he’s that brave but more that he hasn’t thought this one through.

Harry finally gets to sneak out to Hogsmeade and is thrilled and it takes Hermione pointing out that Sirius Black may very well know these other entrances (which he does) for Harry to even realize this is a possibility (even though Harry didn’t make the map). His response to Hermione is surprised Pikachu face for two seconds then, “No, there’s no way, Sirius Black could never figure out something as cool as this.” Then, when Harry’s finally caught, it takes both Snape and Lupin calling him a dick who dishonors his parent’s sacrifice and entire nation trying to keep him safe, for Harry to realize that maybe sneaking into Hogsmeade was a pretty shitty thing to do.

We also have the whole firebolt incident in which Harry’s sent a very suspicious package that could very well kill him with no return address. Harry gets unbelievably pissed that Hermione narks on him, even though he does eventually get the broom back. How dare Hermione get in the way of his quidditch!

This is just one book, mind you, we could go through all seven and find equally mind bogglingly dumb moments. Harry’s just not a bright guy (he also is very academically lazy, but that’s not the same thing.)

Otherwise, Harry doesn’t just have a little anger issue, he has a serious problem and I’m convinced he’s a psychopath.

Whoa, you say, hold on! Where does that come from?

Well, not so much the earlier books. While Harry is a dick (and yes, guys, he is) he doesn’t show really worrying tendencies. The worst he gets up to is icing out Hermione when she becomes inconvenient (see Firebolt fiasco), treating Neville like trash (Harry bails on Neville to sneak out to Hogsmeade), and just being generally self-centered.

I’m talking about the Order of the Phoenix onward. First we have HARRY’S RAGING CAPS-LOCKS FOR AN ENTIRE NOVEL. Granted, he’s an angry dude in a stressful situation, but that was... a lot. But it’s really Half-Blood Prince were I start grimacing.

We have his reaction to Ginny. It never really seems like Harry ever likes Ginny, it’s more that he has this green rage monster in his chest that wants to possess her. It is the weirdest thing I’ve ever read in my life. Or, well, one of them. So that’s... a thing.

Then we have the whole Draco thing. Harry becomes obsessed with Draco Malfoy, more so than usual. And yes, Draco was up to no good, and sure we can tilt our heads and say it’s pretext for Draco/Harry. Except guys, Harry’s scary about it. Take out the appeal of the slash for two seconds, Harry stalking Draco is that problematic thing that if Draco were a woman we’d be saying “ABORT ABORT ABORT”. It of course, culminates in the bathroom incident. Now, you say, Harry didn’t know what that spell would do. Well, he knew it was for enemies and even afterwards, though he panics and feels bad, what he really seems to be bad about is the potential consequences to himself not the action. he focuses more on the fact that the beloved Halfblood Prince was Snape than he does the fact that he nearly murdered Malfoy. If I’m remembering correctly, Harry in fact makes out with Ginny not long after, got to set that chest monster loose, y’all.

Then in book seven Harry starts using the unforgivables with absolutely no regret. Torture for you, Bellatrix, I am edgy now. It’s very clear that Harry only cares superficially about morality. He generally follows the rules and various ideals because he likes the idea of being noble and virtuous, he isn’t actually a virtuous guy at all.

I’m not even sure he really understands friendship. Harry’s friends are people who are great and all except when they become inconvenient, then he can treat them like the trash they are until they come back around (if ever).

He’s kind of a monster actually.

He’s also the poster child of why Voldemort may have a teensy-tiny point that the statute of secrecy as it stands around muggle children is not sustainable. Really doesn’t look good for the cause when the most famous child in the wizarding world is raised by extremely abusive muggles and grows up extremely maladjusted because of it.

Hermione Granger

Now, I give Harry a lot of flak for his treatment of Hermione, but Hermione’s not a barrel of roses either. She may be friends with a pair of assholes who don’t really like her all that much, but she kind of dug her own grave.

First, Hermione has a bit of a superiority complex, even when she’s completely friendless. She absolutely looks down on girls like Pavarti and Lavender and part of the reason they hate her so much is because of that. That’s part of Hermione’s issue, she’s too good for everyone, and so she eventually becomes friends with famous Harry Potter and Ron Weasley who barely tolerate her because she was too good to be friends with, say, Neville.

Hermione never realizes this.

She also deeply enjoys, I believe, being the smartest person in the room and much smarter than her friends. Granted, this is what she defines herself as, and it means she’s needed by everyone around her for this reason, but she still does like it just a little too much.

And oh my god is she horrifyingly righteous.

This we see in what happens to Marietta, Umbridge, as well as her own parents. She permanently disfigures a girl for snitching them out to Umbridge, never telling anyone this was the consequence, and is smug when we see what happens to her because “snitches get stitches”. It’s pretty heavily implied by canon that Umbridge was raped by centaurs (first they’re centaurs, that’s what centaurs do, second we next see Umbridge in the hospital wing looking catatonic and the gang laughs and makes horsey noises). Yes, Umbridge is a vile evil woman, but that Hermione’s so proud of her vengeance is.... concerning.

Finally, her parents. Hermione, without asking her parents’ consent, wipes their memories and rewrites their entire lives. Congratulations Hermione, even more than Harry you are the poster child for Voldemort’s cause of “what goes wrong when muggles raise a magical child”. Hermione essentially kills her parents, treating them like no more than dolls, and the most she’s upset about is what it did to her. To Hermione, her parents aren’t people, not really.

People in general aren’t people, or at least, Hermione is more than willing to go to drastic lengths if she feels she has been slighted or betrayed. Never get on Hermione Granger’s bad side.

Ron Weasley

Shockingly, I’m not really a “Ron the Death Eater” kind of person. Ron clearly has an inferiority complex, he sees being friends with Harry as a way to make him special from his brothers, he’s overly ambitious and easily jealous, he’s academically lazy, kind of an ass, and he has many flaws as a person.

That said, he’s not the same level of scary asshole as Hermione and Harry. Ron doesn’t cut up Draco Malfoy in a bathroom or even disfigure the guy. He’s just your more or less normal dude who doesn’t realize he’s friends with lunatics.

TL;DR Harry and Hermione are assholes. Ron’s kind of an asshole too but shockingly less so than the other two.

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oopskashish · 4 years

Note

Hi! Can I request a one shot Sirius x reader, where she is James sister, and tells Harry how she fell in love with Sirius at Hogwarts? Let’s pretend that Sirius did not die and Harry went to live with him and reader as a family. Thank you :3

A Promised Family

A/N: I am so so so so sorry for making you wait for so long. I was first thinking of writing everything from how he escaped and all that but damn that was too much. Instead I came up with this idea which seems pretty good to me and I am kind of rough with emotions of a reunion I read 5 minutes ago so I wrote something on basis of that. I hope you like it!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Potter!reader, Harry Potter x Potter!Aunt!Reader

Warning: heavy emotions, mentions of death, but there is fluff. And something that SHOULD have been done in the books but Rowling was a bitch to not do that.

Summary: After the war, Sirius, Harry and the reader reunite. They become a proper family as Sirius had promised, and a bittersweet truth from the past comes up.

Y/N ran through the broken halls of Hogwarts. She pushed her tired legs to their limit, her eyes wildly searching for two most important people in her life. She pushed through the crowds which consisted of people sobbing, laughing, hugging, and kissing each other.

But none of that mattered to her right now.

She came to a stop at the gates of Great Hall. Her eyes were somehow aching yet wide ache. She say the Malfoys hurdled in a corner, holding onto each other, Neville's grandmother hugging him tightly, and then finally she saw the spectacled boy.

Her nephew.

Harry Potter.

Her anxiety which was previously rushing along her veins calmed down by a half when she saw him hugging Ron. His brilliant hazel eyes lifted up and she saw tension leave his body as she saw him.

They both ran towards each other, not caring if a crowd was watching them. She enveloped the boy in her arms, holding him close to her as tears she has held back for months come pouring down her face.

She held him just as she did after the triwizard tournament when he was plagued by nightmares of watching that horrifying moment over and over again. When she laid awake at night, surviving on caffeine, because she didn't want to leave her nephew alone to deal with them. She would hold him to her chest and whisper that none of it was his fault.

But now, it seemed like both of them were doing that job without a word. They held onto each other, feeling the gust of relief wash over them in a blissful manner.

Neither of them could imagine what would they do without each other. She raised him through the most painful moments of her life. She raised him into the wonderful human being he is.

There was only one person in front of whom Harry could truly reveal who he is, his deepest of insecurities without having slightest fear of being judged. Whether it was asking how to ask a girl out for a ball or how to tame a dragon, he could trust his aunt with anything, including his tears.

Sobs wrecked his body as he cried into her neck. All the pain he has felt got undone in her arms through his tears. The world seemed to be a place so dark right now and he could only hold onto her to guide him through the dark he was so terrified of.

"Oh my sweet, sweet boy," Y/N whispers, her voice so heavy with emotions that she could break down into sobs at any moment. "You are so brave, so very brave."

For a moment, she reminicsed how she felt when she held her twin years ago. She had almost died during a mission but she survived, pushing death away and bidding it a farewell, she came back to life.

She remembered holding James in her arms so tightly because both of your biggest fears were the same.

Losing each other to death.

She remembered how they both had to hold each other and assure each other that they're alive for the rest of the day, after their boggarts came out to be each other's dead bodies in DADA class.

The marauders could not comfort him, your friends couldn't comfort you. Only each other's presence helped the two of you in both the situations.

And now, she felt just the same as she held Harry.

The pain only seemed to increase as she heard Harry's sob. Each sob shot a wave of pain which tore her soul into innumerable pieces. Each cry emitted a pain that would make cruciatus curse seem like a mere scratch.

"I am here with you, Harry, until the very end." She whispers in his ear, as his sob only seem to increase at her words.

After what felt like infinities, they both parted away, holding onto each other's hand. She wiped his tears away gently, giving him a watery smile that said words he needed to hear.

"Sirius." She heard him whisper as he stared straight ahead.

She exhaled and turned around to find the man she fell in love with in her sixth year. The man for whose innocence she faught so hard. The man whose innocence she proved to the world after the battle of ministry.

The man who could undo her soul just by looking into her eyes with those shiny grey eyes she found comfort in. The man who could make her feel like she is home just by holding her to his chest.

She seemed to still for a moment, as if someone has put a body binding spell on her. She could only look at him.

She noticed how his hair were tied into a little bun which made her knees week every time she saw it. She noticed a deep scratch over his sinfully handsome face which seemed to have stop bleeding.

Harry first hugged Sirius, seeking his warmth he needed so desparately. Sirius held him just as close, muttering words of comfort in his ear as tears whelmed into his eyes.

At that moment, she realised, she wanted nothing more than to be finally at home and bake something while they both prepared the dinner. She wanted nothing more than midnight conversations with Harry and Sirius, with hot chocolate in their hands.

She wanted nothing more than a proper family with them.

After a few moments, the two of them pulled away. Sirius turned to Y/N and he had a desparate look on his face which made her heart beat faster and faster.

She leapt into his arms, holding him by shoulders and one of his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her impossibly close to him and the other went to cup her jaw.

And they kissed.

They kissed each other slowly, desparately, and so passionately. They held onto each other, as if they would lose each other into the oblivion if they let go.

The sadness, tension, happiness, and a million emotions they were feeling right now all accumulated into a kiss they would never forget. They were like letters of a word, clinging to each to have some meaning and value.

Their kiss was so passionate that it could inspire another universe to be formed, sun to shine, and to create another heaven for each other. The universes could collide and the world could topple over but nothing could have broke them apart.

Y/N parted away, tasting salty tears on her lips. She didn't know if it was his or hers, she didn't know how many traumatic nights were to come, she didn't anything at that moment but that she could not lose him again.

"Y/N." Sirius whispered her name as he pulled her closer, resting his hear in her neck and taking in a deep breath of her scent which and calmed him to an incomprehensible extent.

"I thought I might lose you." Sirius squeezed his eyes close when he heard her voice whisper in that desparate tone. That tone which made him want to take away every ounce of pain that was in her and make it his own. It was that tone that made him want to hold her close and shower her with all his love and happiness till she was filled with it to the brim.

"I am here," he whispers, rocking her back and forth slowly. Holding her as the sky hold its stars. "I am here, and nothing can take me away from you. Nothing."

And nothing ever did.

-/-/-/-

It had been an year since the battle of Hogwarts. The final battle which left trauma in hearts of so many people, that plagued so many people's sleep, that left so many people haunted with emotions no one deserved to feel.

It was utter chaos but everything was settling back into place. With Kingsley as the minister, everything went as smoothly as it could. The death eaters, all of them, faced trial and litres of Veritaserum was used on everyone.

Mistakes of past couldn't be repeated afterall.

And in the midst of the chaos in the world. Y/N and Sirius were blessed with children of their own. Twins.

The two of them had been clinging to each other and crying out of sheer delight when they got the fantabulous news. Sirius wanted nothing more than settling down with his wife and godson in a place where they could see the sky and feel the sunshine.

And so they did. A quaint little cottage that had just enough rooms to fill in every detail they needed to have. Harry lived with them, and he would have even against his will because neither Sirius or Y/N were going to let him go after the battle for at least a few years, but luckily he needed their presence just as much as they needed his.

And now, as Y/N talked with George on the dining table, her hand resting on her very pregnant belly as Ginny and Harry prepared the dinner.

George had gotten closer with Y/N after the death of his twin because only she could truly understand how it felt to lose a twin. She helped him through emotions he could barely handle and helped him get back into a new life without twin but still managing to be happy.

They both knew it well that a part of them was dead along with their twin but they had to live on and carry on till they could meet each other again.

George had made a joke which made y/n laugh loudly, throwing her head back as she made a remark which made them laugh even harder.

Sirius smiled as he entered with groceries in his hands and set them on table. He made his way to his wife and kissed her lips and her belly, just as he always did when he entered the room in which she was.

"Hello, darling." He smiled.

"Hi, handsome. Got everything that was needed?"

"Yes, I did. Including your Hershey's chocolates and butterbeer." Y/N grinned and kissed his cheek in delight, already reaching for the bag and rummaging through it to find that chocolate that Remus introduced her to during her pregnancy.

"The cravings have gotten even sweeter?" George asks Sirius.

"You have no idea," Sirius says with a sigh, shaking his head. "Either she is having food which can burn her tongue or sickly sweet food. Or sometimes both at times."

"You put these children in me. Don't complain now." She says breezily, taking a sip of her drink and gave Sirius a glare.

Sirius leaned in and kissed her belly and her cheek. "I would never dream of doing that."

"Good."

Sirius chuckled against her lips and kissed them one more time till he heard three people gag. The couple rolled their eyes and parted away, a little disgruntled.

"Is the dinner ready?" Y/N asks eagerly.

"Yes, Aunt." Harry says, taking the pot off the stove. Sirius got up and helped with him and Ginny to serve while George made the table.

It was almost a rule that y/n couldn't do any household work. Considering she is very near to her expected delivery date and is very heavily pregnant.

At first she threw a fit but when her feet started to swell, she stopped that fit because Merlin knows how hard it is to do chores with them. Ginny had moved in with them recently to help with the pregnancy for which everyone was beyond grateful though she had a little knowledge about it, she was very helpful anyway.

The dinner was served, and y/n had it with a side of chocolate. Her steak was extra spicy, just enough to satisfy her and the babies.

"Have you guys decided the names?" Harry asks them.

"Well, somewhat yes. We are keeping a few options and then we will choose whatever suits the best." Sirius answers him, giving y/n a smile.

"We were meaning to ask you, Harry, if it would be okay if we name one of our sons after James. I will understand if you would want your son to have his name. In that case we can choose another name." Y/N asks him.

Harry thinks for a while before saying. "Actually I never told you this. I am sorry if I cross any boundaries, Sirius, but your brother Regulus was actually a true hero."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, hiding away his pain behind his gorgeous eyes and burying it further in his soul. "What do you mean?"

"Regulus actually hid one of Voldemort's horcrux in his room and had ordered Kreacher to destroy it. He had replaced it with another fake locket. It was what caused his death."

Sirius bows his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

He remembered how his little brother told him not to runaway, how he told him that they had to be together in this. How when Sirius was pushed to his limits, Regulus tried to comfort him.

He remembered pushing Regulus away and calling James his true brother, leaving Regulus in tears. How he ignored his letters after reading them.

He wished he could have done something different.

Something that would have kept his little brother alive. He realised that Regulus was a boy who didn't have a choice. In the seek of approval of his parents, he did things that he himself didn't approve of.

But he was proud of his little brother, for he managed to be braver than Godric Gryffindor himself. He was proud that at least he realised what is right and what is wrong and acted upon it.

Y/N reached for his hand and squeezed it, she leaned in his ear and whispered.

"My love, it's alright. Please don't worry. None of us could have known his actions."

Sirius nods at her, kissing her knuckles as if it could provide him some sort of comfort. He took a deep breath in and pushed away his doubts which he knew y/n would help him with after the dinner.

"I think you should name one of your sons after him, if you wish to." Harry whispers, unsure if his words are pushing his boundary or not.

Sirius squeezed her hand, gesturing her to speak on his behalf. "Thank you Harry, we will think more about it."

Harry bit his lip. "And if it's okay, can you choose another name or change the one of Dad a little? I always wanted to name my son James."

"Of course, sweetheart." She smiled at him.

And after a couple of weeks, Regulus and Rigel Black were born. Some of the, perhaps, most loved children ever to exist.

Sirius would smile at them as the twins would sleep, happy that his promise of having a family with Y/N and Harry was finally complete in the most lovely manner possible.

-/-/-/-

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#sirius imagine #sirius x reader fluff #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius x potter!reader #harry potter #harry pottee x aunt!reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter forever #harry j potter #harry james potter #regulus black #marauders #fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fandom #fandom #george weasley #ginny weasley

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vee-is-a-writter-now · 3 years

Text

Heaven Sent

[[Draco x Reader]]

Summary: Draco and a golden trio’s friend against all odds become very close. When you take a very dangerous part in one of the Triwizard Tounrament’s tasks, he is forced to face the fact that he might see you as more than just a friend.

A/N: This is my first Draco fic and I have to admit, he is one of the hardest characters I’ve ever written for, there’s something about him that I couldn’t quite get right but I hope I did a decent job. This is set in the ‘Goblet of Fire’ era, for the sake of the story some things about the plot are changed but it stays over all pretty similar to the original. If this does well i’ll write a part two. Also, I’d love to keep writing for Draco so if you have any prompts or ideas let me know!!

Warnings: Language, a bit of angst here and there, a bit of fluff here and there.

~IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS DONT HESITATE TO ASK~

No one quite understood how you and Draco became friends, it happend slowly and gradually. In second year the two of you hated eachother for the issues he had with your friends. Harry had been your friend since the first day you stepped foot in Hogwarts, Hermione was like a big sister to you even though you were the same age and Ron was the one who was always there to make you laugh even when it seemed impossible. So naturally everytime Draco felt it was necessary to make a snarky remark about them, tease Harry mercilessly or call Hermione a mudblood, it made you see red with rage.

After one particularly loud class of potions, professor Snape decided to change all the seats before he ended up murdering a student. You had to leave your seat next to Harry and walk to the back of the class to be seated with no other than the Slytherin prince. You cursed Snape, the universe and anyone else who seemed to be conspiring against you in your head, then reluctantly took your seat.

At first, and as it would be expected, Draco and you had troubles getting along to say the least, but as days went by and as the two of you realized this feud you had was only making the situation more unbearable, the hostility was replaced with playfulness. You still teased eachother but the desire to hurt and offend wasn’t there anymore, instead being replaced with snarky remarks and witty comebacks.

A similar situation took place in your head. You didn’t understand why all of a sudden the hatred for the posh, bratty and rude platinum blonde wasn’t there anymore, but getting to potions class and teasing him about something new everyday just to get a laugh out of him was something you internally looked forward to. Even in the great hall while you were sitting with your friends it was hard to not steal a few glances here and there from Draco, and most of those times he would be looking right back.

Third year went by like that, class next to him, a few group assignments that required you to meet him out of class and the sporadic interaction here and there. That was it.

But when year four came by, Harry and Ron decided it would be a great idea to get into a fight right when things started getting complicated. Both of them were very proud, and for a few weeks after the contestants of the triwizard tournament were announced they wouldn’t even talk to eachother.

Hermione took the mom friend role and stuck with Ron during those weeks, you on the other hand could’ve stuck with Harry but he was so invested and consumed by the tournament he barely even had time to spend with anyone anyways so you preferred to leave him to his own.

You found yourself going to the library a lot more, something you loved to do but barely had any time to when you were occupied with the golden trio’s adventures. To your surprise, the idea of finding a place to scape everything for a few moments hadn’t only occurred to you, but to Draco as well. Some days you would only sit next to eachother and read in silence; others, when Draco would be in a particularly good mood he would talk to you about what was so interesting in the book he was currently reading. The way you would listen to him talk made the warm feeling in Draco’s chest grow more than he would like to admit. He could tell how when he spoke to you, you didn’t only listen out of basic courtesy or fear like his fellow slytherins would, you actually cared about what he had to say. Draco would go to the extents of looking for things to say just so he could see your eyes look up from the pages of your book and get hit by the light coming from the window behind him.

To you, Draco was a breath of fresh air, you loved your friends to death but everything seemed to be so complicated with them, almost as if you were always on a life or death situation, but with him things were easy, just casual conversations, sweet smiles and moments of blissful silence. You liked spending time with him so much you started to look for excuses to do it more often outside the library, tempting him to sneak into the kitchen for snacks on a dare for example, or challenging him to a race to the outer parts of the castle just to find a place to sit down together and talk.

The day of the second task, Draco had seen you at breakfast, you’d told him previously your two friends had finally made amends which meant it wasn’t weird to see you all sitting together once again, but this still made his heart subtly ache knowing that you wouldn’t spend as much time with him anymore. With that though in mind he’d asked you to sit near him during the tournament, something not obvious enough for slytherins to bug him about it but sufficient to have you close to him.

When he arrived to the wood platform that stood on top of the black lake he scanned the crowd for you, disappointed when he couldn’t find your face. He reluctantly walked to where all the slytherins were grouped up, not giving up on his search for you just yet. At one point he even caught a sight of Weasley’s red head of hair but you were no where around him, he seemed to be looking for someone too, Granger he assumed. The two of you must’ve been together somewhere else, which seemed odd but understandable. A thought ran through the back of Draco’s head, maybe you liked to spend time with him as long as it was in private, maybe the thought of being seen with him bothered you and you had decided to stand him up. He shook the thought away and tried to focus on what was going on in front of him.

The second challenge consisted of ‘recovering something that had been taken from them’ from within the depths of the black lake, the champions would be under water for an hour and would only count as winners if they brought the item back. He was eager to see how Potter would get out of this one. Once the four contenders disappeared under water there wasn’t much more to see, Draco tried to insert himself into the chatter going on in the group behind him but the image of you kept popping into his head, it wasn’t like you to just disappear, specially when your friend was just about to submerge into the black lake for an hour, but he tried to distract his mind elsewhere.

It was only when he saw Vikktor Krum come up with Hermione in his hands that it clicked for him. ‘Something that had been taken from them’ that something was a person, someone important to the contestant, and if Granger was with Krum and Weasley was waiting for them on the other side of the platform... then that meant you were under water, and Potter was still nowhere to be seen.

Draco’s heart started beating at a rate he thought impossible before that moment. He pushed his way through the slytherin crowd slamming himself against the second and first years and eventually getting to where people were expecting the contestants to resurface. The gryffindor girl was still trying to recover on the side of the platform, Weasly and a teacher giving her towels to dry up and get warm. Draco grabbed the redhead’s arm and pulled him up and aside aggressively.

“Bloody hell, what’s your problem, Malfoy? Can’t you see i’m busy?” he replied not even looking back at him and keeping his eyes on Hermione.

“Y/N, is she down there too?” Draco asked, pulling his arm once again to get his attention. “Is she the one Potter is supposed to bring up?”

“I know as much as you do mate” Ron said back freeing himself from Draco’s grip abruptly. “but yeah, by the looks of it she’s the one friend of Harry who’s missing, so i assume it’s her.” With those words Ron returned to his place next to Hermione and left Draco terrified and frozen in his place.

The one hour period was nearing its end and Harry was still no where to be seen. Every second from the moment Draco found out about you being tied up at the bottom of the black lake felt like an eternity, no amount of calming thoughts could make the brutal feeling in his chest go away. He thought back on all the times you two spent together, how you looked so carefree sometimes and so concerned and lost in thought others, how your face lit up when you laughed or tense up when he teased you about something, the many opportunities he had to tell you how he felt more than just platonic things for you, that he actually dreamt about you day and night but was too scared to do anything about it, and how he would be the happiest man alive if he ever got the chance to wake up next to you, kiss you and tell you how beautiful you truly are.

The young slytherin looked up to the sky and promised to anyone or anything that could help him, even just to himself, that if you were brought back to him safe and sound he wouldn’t waste another second with you, he’d tell you all the things he felt for you as soon as he got the chance, and if you allowed him he’d take care of you for the rest of his life, all he needed was for you to be in his arms once again.

As if the universe had heard his pleas, Potter came back up with not only you in his arms but Fleur Delacour’s sister as well. Draco ran to the edge of the platform to help you up as you were still gasping for air, Harry didn’t even question why he was helping as he pushed you up for him to grab you. You were still coughing out water when the platinum blonde boy wrapped you around with a towel and tried to sit you up so you could get it all out.

“Hey, hey, breathe, try to breath, you’re ok i’m here with you, it’s ok.” He tried to calm you down with his words while feeling you try to take deeper breaths with him.

“I think Y/N’s hurt, her leg... i think it’s injured.” Potter said from next to Draco where Hermione and Ron were trying to dry him up.

Draco’s hand immediately went to your leg, which was covered by your robe, but underneath it the uniform socks were ripped up and a pretty nasty wound could be seen causing blood to drip down.

The concern that filled Draco’s heart was quickly replaced by anger when he turned his head back to Harry. “How could you let them do this to her? How could you put her in so much danger? She could’ve fucking died down there and it would’ve been your fault, you really can’t do anything other than put everyone around you at risk, can you Potter?” His words were brutal and loud, loud enough for everyone around them to hear, even through the loudness of the crowd, but Draco didn’t care.

“Malfoy, shut it. This isn’t his fault, he didn’t chose for this to happen.” Hermione barked back while looking at him with a mixture of fury and confusion as to why he seemed to care so much about you all of a sudden.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. It’s never his fault is it? Cause he’s the chosen one and nothing that ever happens is his fault, it’s all an unfortunate occurrence that he never has to take responsibility for even though if it wasn’t for him none of this would’ve ever-” Draco’s words were cut off by your hand going up to his face, you felt freezing cold and soft against his skin and it was so unexpected it forced him to look down at you who were still on his lap.

“Draco... stop, not now.” you said still sounding out of breath. “I need you to take me to Madam Pomfrey, my leg hurts.”

Draco’s heart broke at the way your eyes looked at him, almost pleading, swollen and tired. “Yes, of course. Hold on tight, darling, let me know if I hurt you.”

He lifted you up and carried you in his arms, ignoring the shocked and confused looks everyone was throwing his way, also leaving Potter and his bunch behind, he’d deal with them later. Your eyes shut close once again and your face cuddled into Draco’s neck, looking for warmth and comfort. He briefly looked once again up to the sky, thanking whatever helped bring you back, not forgetting about the promise he’d made before. He would do it, once you were alright.

Madam Pomfrey had to force Draco out of the room to keep him from bombarding her with questions about your state. He paced back and forth in front of the door for around thirty minutes before he was allowed back in. You were laying on the same bed he’d set you on moments before, just now wearing a more comfortable attire. Your leg was wrapped up in bandages and raised up on top of a couple pillows. Once Draco got close enough your eyes drifted over to him, in your four years of knowing him you’d never seen such worry in his face. His hand looked for yours and held it tightly while taking a seat on a chair that was placed next to your bed.

“You have no idea how worried I was” He said still struggling to pace his breath down.

You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Draco, I’m ok. It doesn’t even hurt anymore, I’m heavily drugged but at least it looks like my leg will stay in one piece.”

The blond slytherin chuckled softly and seemed to relax a little. “I’m going to murder your friend as soon as I get a chance, I hope you know that.”

“No you won’t.” Your eyes pierced through his while a serious expression took over your face. “We are not arguing over this, it wasn’t his fault.”

“You’re right, we’re not arguing over it, there is nothing you can threaten me with to keep me from putting him back at the bottom of the black lake” He said with his signature scowl plastered on his face.

“We can instead talk about what we’re going to tell the entire school once I’m out of here. That hero act you pulled back there is not gonna be easy to explain while keeping your reputation intact.”

“Fuck my reputation” He replied looking away. This took you by surprise, there were many things Draco Malfoy was, a person who didn’t care about his reputation or what others thought of him wasn’t one of them.

“Who are you and what have you done with Draco?” You asked teasingly.

He took a deep breath before looking back at you. “I’m being serious, Y/N.”

“So... you don’t care what Slytherins say about you being friends with Potter’s friend?”

“There’s something we need to talk about. I-” Draco’s words were cut off by the door swinging open behind him. Before he could even fully turn around to look at who it was, he heard Hermione’s rushed steps and her loud and piercing voice, Weasley following behind her closely.

“Oh, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re ok. We were all worried to death, I wanted to come right away but Professor Mcgonagall forced me to go dry up and change clothes, she said I would catch a cold otherwise.” Her arms were thrown over your neck pulling you up harshly.

“Mione, I appreciate the enthusiasm but I’m still a bit sore.” You said muffled by her hug.

“Right, sorry.”

The chatter that came after was barely heard by Draco, the thought of what he’d been so close to telling you started to weight on him. Doubt begun to take over, maybe it wasn’t the right time, maybe he was being stupid for even thinking someone as good as you could ever reciprocate feelings as intense as the ones he had. But he’d made a promise, and if there was even just a slim chance you’d feel a fraction of what he felt for you, he would take the risk.

Draco was fully willing to wait there until your friends left so you two could finish your conversation, but it was when Potter walked in he realized he wasn’t welcome anymore. The shock and unpleasantness on his when he saw Draco said it all. For your sake and his own, he decided to stand up from his place and leave the confrontation for later. But before Draco could get far your hand pulled his back to get his attention.

“Draco...” your voice was strong, not discreet or ashamed to address him in front of your friends, but loud and assuring. “Thank you, for everything.”

The way you took a moment to make sure he knew you were grateful for what he’d done for you, even with Potter and the others around, showed him he mattered to you, even just a little. It was all Draco needed to be confident in his decision. He was going to tell you how he felt, maybe not today, but he would do it.

“Any time.” Was all he replied before walking out with a smirk on his lips and the warm feeling taking over his heart again.

#draco fic #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco imagine #draco smut #draco malfoy #draco x oc #draco x you #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #goblet of fire #harry potter fic #draco fanfiction #draco fluff #draco angst

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smutandfluffohmy · 4 years

Text

His Sweater #3

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairings: George Weasley X Slytherin!reader A/N: I shared my story on TikTok and thank you so much for all the support and love for this story 🥺 It really means the world to me 💕 I was going to cut this up to two different parts because its so longggg but I thought I should post it as one since it was supposed to be posted over the weekend.

Read it from the beginning Part 1 Here

Looking for part 2? Look no further

I had snow in my shoe, a hexed Gryffindor robe and George Weasleys sweater if all but the snow I would count this as a successful day. Walking to the Slytherin common room felt ages away and by far something I wasn’t looking forward to.

“Draco can you please stop crying.” I huffed looking around the common room at a bunch of Slytherins angrily pointing at their hexed robes they haven’t bothered to change back, I suppose it fueled their anger and made them forget their terrible Quiddith match or maybe they were just enjoying mocking Gryffindor students.

“I’m not crying I’m just angry.You should’ve seen Potters smug face wh-” Draco was yelling and probably shaking a finger at me just like my nan, but today has been far too long for me to stick around for yet another of his Potter rants.

Changing out of my unforgiving cold clothes I put on blue pajamas. Now these were sneaking around the castle at 3am appropriate, not that I intended to get up that early again but it was nice feeling that this time I had at least prepared. Georges sweater sat on the edge of my bed, it looked so lonely sitting there, the room wasn’t cold but I think I lied to myself that it was just enough to justify wearing his sweater to bed. I smelt like George Weasley, it smells exactly like the amorentia I brewed earlier today. I wonder what George smells? And if I could buy a perfume that smells like that, perhaps I could trick him into liking me that way.

But those are horrible thoughts to be having of a day-old friend.

My morning was uneventful and I was grateful for the much needed peace and quiet from a hectic year. The library was as quiet as always, books silently whizzing over my head rearranging themselves with a silent thump here and there.

Fred sat down loudly on the chair next to me, the box in his hand clanging loudly against the wooden desk making me jump. “That sweater really brings out your eyes. Where’d you get it?” Fred laughed bumping his shoulder to mine making me nudge George’s shoulder.

My face went red at the sudden contact as if I wasn't wearing his sweater. “Piss off Fred.” Fred Weasley didn’t know how to whisper nor how to act around people he just met these two things I knew for sure.

“So we wanted to run this idea by you” George said reaching over me to get the box Fred had placed on the table.

Fred leaned on the table leaning against his arms to look over at his brother. “George beings a boring bellend. Talk some sense into him will ya.” George leaned over just like Fred, the 8 chair table seemed too small and it turns out Fred isn't the only that had issues with personal space.

Fred proceeded to tell me about the plan and George swore that Fred and Fred alone thought this all up. Which Fred answered that George was a fool that was loosing his sense of humor due to his old age. Ten minutes, 3 head flicking fights and one terrible plan later had me wondering how they had gotten as far as they did without seriously injuring someone.

I was afraid going against them would mean the end of our friendship but they want to put bertlys barfs and boils on the dinners feast but I for one did not want to wash off a third years barf from my robes.

I breathed in looking over at George to see if he was just as excited as Fred was, brown eyes met mine and for a flash I forgot what I was looking for. “That’s literally poisoning people.” I told Fred who's face fell at my shocking answer but George beamed from behind me, reaching over and draped his arm over me smiling at his brother.

Fred looked from George to me and then around the library looking around for someone that would agree to making an entire school sick to their stomach was anything but a horrible ideas. Unlucky for us he found it in the form of a ghost hiding frogs behind a set of books “Peeves what do you think?” Fred called out waving him over like an old friend.

Peeves stopped what he was doing walking over to us.His hat framing the sides of his face, his shoes gave off a slight jingle with every steep and his face lighting up at seeing us “I think it’s brilliant! While you’re at it I suggest putting some on the old professors food. Make it a party!” He said stepping on top of the table kicking some of the papers I was working on around, some of the scrolls rolling across the wooden floor.

Fred clapped his hands on the table smiling up at Peeves “Finally someone that understands!” and with that Peeves stepped off the table further kicking my potions assignment further around the library surely to be tossed or lost forever.

Sighing I looked over at Fred who's face never wavered “Can’t just have it change peoples hair color? You know not unknowingly make them violently ill.” I said looking back at George for some support something he was already giving me with a loopy smile as if he just drank 4 pints of Firewhisky.

Scrunching my eyebrows at him he seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in. Nodding his head making his hair move in all sort of directions, I wonder if it was as soft as it looked. “I kinda don’t want to see boils popping on the French toast.” George said shrugging his shoulders at his brother, I was still blissfully over aware that his arm was slung over my shoulders

Throwing his head back slumping down on his chair with an overly dramatic sigh he closed his eyes “Fine fine we’ll think it over.” Fred said waving us away, to where he wanted us to disappear I don’t know and frankly I didn't care enough to ask.

As it turned out there was no prank that year. The laughter we had anticipated was pushed to the side with George and Fred gathering money for the new joke shop they talked so fondly about. The laughter was later completely forgotten at the news of Cediric Diggorys untimely passing.Our secret joke meetings got replaced with hospital wing visits looking after Harry and Ron who had picked fights with what seemed like all of Hogwarts. Hermione Granger was always there with us and sometimes their other friends stopped by with plants or books or snacks they thought they might enjoy during their stay.

We didn't know what was worse you-know-whos reappearance or the fact that people thought Harry killed Cedric himself for a stupid trophy in a stupid game that Dumbledore wasn’t bright enough to not let a 15 year old Harry participate in. The year ended and while I was sad to not see George nor Fred for a while, I was glad we no longer had to pull apart fights and mend bruises.

The summer consisted of writing letters to Fred and George, well mostly George. It was not just because I liked him but also because Fred had awful hand writing, that at times it made me question if I even knew how to read at all. I occasionally asked them how Ron was doing, if Harry was doing any better and if Hermione still looked at Ron fondly. I still wore Georges sweater around the house that I was not permitted to leave from and more often than not I got teased on my crush on the Weasley boy from my mother, father, brother and sister-in-law who seemed to have no other entertainment besides teasing me.

The days were long and our boredom filled the house. I was more than glad when the school year began once again. Sitting in the train cart with Draco and his friends who my family asked me to keep a close eye on as they feared they might stray somewhere horrible. I didn't have the heart to tell them I suspected they already had, so I was stuck with Draco and his never ending Harry Potter rant.

“You know Draco I think the only person that talks about Harry as much as you do is Ginny.” I said, which caused him to turn an awful shade of red. The remainder of the trip was left in silence which I was thankful for. Stepping into the grand hall I looked around for Fred and George who to no-ones surprised were whispering between the two of them.

Pushing past other students I was finally in front of the boys I spent all summer writing to. They seemed to have gotten taller and their hair had gotten shorter. “Fred! George I missed you!”I said grabbing them down into a hug which they returned just as quickly as they broke it off.

“Sorry gotta run.” Fred said smiling down at me ruffling my hair. Embarrassed I tried to flatten it down in an effort for it to regain it’s original place.

“Places to be.” George said following his brother, I reached over yanking him back. Perhaps they had things to do, what things could be done in the first day back I don’t know but I was hurt they were leaving me behind without as much as a hello tossed my way.

“Wait your sweater!” Was all I could say as I pushed his neatly folded sweater that said ‘I thought about the way the sleeves are folded because I like you but I didn’t think enough about it for you to worry’ towards him. Hesitantly he reached over placing his hand on top and bottom of the sweater, his fingers grazing mine, being awfully gentle like it could fall apart right then in there in the great hall.

He smiled at him making my heart jump “Oh thanks I was looking for it all break.” he said rather confidently for a lie, I wrote him every week asking if I should send it over but every week it seemed to be too hot or too rainy or too blue out for a sweater to be delivered via owl. “Here can you hold this for a bit.Thanks you’re a life saver.” He said tugging off the sweater he already had on and tugging it over my head. I was left with frizzy hair, alone and with George Weasleys sweater once again.

The year was going awful and I wondered if it was all just one big nightmare caused by a faulty potion in Professor Snape's class. Unfortunately it was not and we were in fact left with a highly dressed up and highly pink toad of a woman being our professor.

“Eyes up front children. There will be no speaking out of turn in my classroom.” Professor Umbridge said as she continued on with her lesson in the defense against the dark arts, a field that while highly skilled she refused to prove it. A sentiment that had the gracious opportunity to fill my ear when I was helping Professor Snape grade papers earlier that day.

The days seemed somehow longer than they did over the summer, perhaps it was the ridiculous amount of reading or perhaps it was because Fred and George had agreed amongst themselves that I no longer existed.

A head of red hair passed by and at that moment I swore it was my favorite color “Ron!” I called out running to catch up with him, he tensed up his shoulders before turning to look at who had called me.

“Bloody hell woman you almost killed me.” He said clutching his robes just over the place his heart was, well at least would be if it was not in fact on the other side. Perhaps I was a bit too thrilled to had finally made at least one of the Weasley stay long enough to speak to me.

“Oh hello Hermione I haven't seen you in a while!” That was in fact a lie I haven't seen her at all but it seemed like a polite thing to say at the time “Ron If you see your brothers ca-”

“Y/n why don’t you just try acquainting yourself with decent people? Not of the likes of Weasleys and mudbloods.” Draco said from behind me, Ron turned red much like he did when he was about to fight and Hermione scrunched her nose balling her fist as if she was about to take a swing and Draco.

I felt awfully silly picking a fight with a boy that I passed charms notes to earlier that day.But I could not help but feel the dread that washed over Hermione Granger when he called her a mudblood, a girl who's potions paper I gave a perfect mark to minutes earlier. “Oh like who? You? Push over little daddies boy?” I said standing tall looking at him.The way he said Weasley filled me with more anger than the way he called Hermione Granger a mudblood a sentiment I felt awful for feeling.

Dracos face twisted in an awful expression that made me wish I drank whatever liquid courage they fed Gryffindors. “Watch who you’re talking to!”

“No you watch it Draco.”I said taking a stride closer towards him, our shoes nearly touching and my legs slightly shaking. “Does your mum approve of the things you do?” I said to him only loud enough for him to hear it.

His face dropped before getting a scowl once more “Don’t talk about my mother.” he said with a sneer.

“Don’t give me a reason to.Now get out of here before I make you regret it.” I warned, an empty threat, as empty as they come but Draco did not know enough about me to call my bluff. With a sneer and a swish of a cape he walked away and I was glad I could finally wipe the sweat off my palms on my robe.

The shoes stepping towards me made me tense as I suddenly became aware that I had in fact almost fought a child in front of two other children. A gentle hand was placed on my stiff shoulder instantly making them drop.“Are you alright?” Hermione asked which a nod was all I could answer her with.

I didn’t answer her, afraid my voice would shake and give Draco the satisfaction he got done over on me “Holy shit I feel like I’m going to throw up.” I said once he was out of sight, I joked with being placed in Gryffindor before but for the first time I realized something the sorting hat knew all along. I was in fact empty of courage.

“That was amazing I’ve never seen someone stand up to that git Malfoy like that.” Ron mused smiling as he threw a finger at Dracos back, his smile soften when he saw the awful color mine was. “A-and I’ll make sure to tell George and Fred to stop being such idiots.”

The rest of the day passed without much anything of note, except every slam and quick movement filled me with dread thinking that Malfoy came back for another squabbling match. When the two chairs besides me got pulled out I was worried I was in for a beating and started wondering were a bunch of children would take the piss out of me. Instead George and Fred sat besides me, the rest of the study table giving them odd looks as they all concluded the Weasleys and I were no longer in speaking terms.

“You’re talking to me now?” I said turning back to my herebology book that was rather bland and focused on an smear on the page to fain interest in.

George leaned over placing his head down on the table in an effort to get me to pay attention, but all he did was look like a git. A git that made my heart swell but most importantly a git over anything. “Look we’re sorry a lot of things have been happening and well we’re just part of something.” He said placing his hand over the pages of the book.

“Top secret something.” Fred said leaning into me.

“Dumbledores army? I’ve heard” I whispered to them in an actual proper whisper something they had no knowledge in.

“Ye- how’d you know?” George said closing the textbook infant of me, looking from me to his brother to the other people in the table that had absolutely no interest into what they could be planning now.

I shrugged “Freds shit at whispering.”

“Perfect then you're caught up on everything. So we made this extendable ear and we wanted to run it by you.” Fred said digging out a torn up ear from his pocket and acting like I didn't just say that I knew about a top secret after school club.

“Hold up I never said I forgave you twats”

“You want me to get on my knees? I’ll get on my knees.”

“No George that-” I started to say shaking my head.

“Please come back to us ,our sad little hearts have a y/n shaped holes.” George said getting on his knees, in front of me with people looking at us as if we lit a garbage on fire.

My face turned red as I tried to drag him up to his feet to no avail “Get up.” I said between tugs as Fred laughed on and I can’t tell if that made it better or worse.

“I’m on my knees begging for you to take me back.” George said a bit more loudly with every word, in any other context I would be flattered over the moon in fact. But the snickers and Snape walking towards us made me reevaluate the flattery and George Weasley as a whole.

“Fine I forgive you now get up people are staring.” I said and with that George got up, not because he was embarrassed or because Snape came with a text book up in arms to hit us over the head with but because he just wanted to hear that I forgave him.

Everything seemed to be looking up, there was no sign of you-know-who, Ginny punched the Ravenclaws that were giving Luna Lovegood a hard time in the face, there had been less rain than expected and George, Fred and I were now friends once more. Perhaps all was not good Umbridge was still there in her twisted demented Elle Woods impersonation and Filch could not stop being tragically in love with Umbridge, at times I wonder if I was the Filch in George and I’s situation.

The D.A.D.A class came to an end, a time I thought had forgotten about us. I was packing up my bags, grabbing the text books a manicured handed stopped me.

“Can you come with me to my office?” Umbridge said in more of a demand than a request, nodding my head I followed her to her office. Perhaps I expected a lair or to see Oswald Mosley and Jack the ripper having a cup of tea over the fire but all I got was what looked like the inside of my nan’s house.

“Lovely room. I have a cat myself.” I said, a shiver going down my spine as at least a hundred cats meowed and purred down on me from their strategically placed spots. I loved my cat but I wondered if I could ever love this as much as this, perhaps it was not love at all.

Clapping her hands together she smiled at me “I knew I liked you from the moment I saw you” Umbridge said with a tight smile and while she stood in all her glory in bright pink I don't think it was meant as a compliment. “I called you here because I’ve heard from some of your housemates you’ve fallen in with the wrong crowd with those Weasel bo-”

“Weasley.” I said too confidently for someone that was sitting on a chair that had a picture of a kitten on it.

“I beg your pardon” She stopped smiling her tight lipped smile.

“It’s Weasley not weasel ma’am.” I suspected that she knew that but wasn’t particularly interested in it. She gave out a laugh that sounded like it had been squeezed out of her which by the look in her face I suspect it had.

“Oh did I say that? A slip of the tongue I suppose. As I was saying we’re all worried about you my dear, I suspect doing a few lines will help us clear this up.” She said tapping the piece of parchment paper that sat alone in the desk. “Write “I must not stray’ to help you remember where you truly belong.” A bit on the nose and tacky but I wasn't the one that drank tea out of cups laced with cat fur ,perhaps it had all gone to her head or maybe all adults were this pretentious.

“I’m afraid I didn't bring my quill.” I said over the sea of meows, when I said this she smiled a genuine smile this time.

“No need to worry I have it all set up for you.” She said placing a quill in front of me ever so delicately.

“Thank you Ma’am. How many lines am I to write?”

“I suspect till you feel it sink in dear.” She said once agains laughing, her hands place neatly and delicately in front of her. She smiled with teeth that was some how more intimidating than her tight lipped smile. I did not know how to tell her she had pink lipstick on her teeth.Picking up the quill I noticed there was no ink and I silently saluted the Wizarding world for discovering the amazing muggle creation that are pens.

I should’ve known that these old gits didn’t update to pens, I should’ve known when she smiled at me, I should’ve known when she stood besides me watching me write lines. A lot of should’ves weren't going to erase the burning wound that was not on my arm for an undisclosed amount of time.

‘I must not stray’ I couldn’t see it but I could feel it burn against the sweater, the robes, the air itself seemed to be conspiring on making the cut ache. Having my arm at a certain angle made it

“I brought you a hot chocolate.” George said appearing out of no where, it was almost comical and a bit concerning how no matter where I was George and Fred could always find me.

“What for?” Looking down at the cup in his hands I wondered besides hot chocolate what else would be in it.

George smiled “What I can't be a good friend? Bring you a hot drink on a cold night like this?” He said scooting a bit closer to me, I was suddenly overly aware of where my arm was placed.

Fred sat down besides me with a blue box on his lap “And we wanted to see if you could try some of our new skydiving snacks boxes.”

“And what if I die?”

“Well then we’ll miss you terribly.” Fred said placing a sad hand on my shoulder.

“I won’t let you die.Now open up.” George smiled beckoning me to open up which I did, if I were to trust anyone to hand fed me it would be against my better judgment George Weasley. His face dropped a bit and the gag snack never reached my mouth “What’s wrong with your arm?”

My face drained of color as I looked at him “Nothing. I thought you wanted me to try your parachute snacks.”

“Skydiving. Come on we’re your best mates show us.” Fred said, in a tone that was unlike his own not a hint of sarcasm and only of pure worry. A tone I’ve only heard after a particularly nasty fall Ron had while playing quidditch.

They made a fuss. Well it was mostly George that seemed a bit unhinged by the scar and Fred shifted between asking me if it hurt and telling George to calm down. It took hours, countless ‘I’m alright’s’ and a few ‘she can’t get to me that easily’s’ to calm George down enough to even begin to talk about what they had also came looking for me for.

“So here’s the plan.” Fred started, while George began wrapping my arm up with bandages he carried for this occasion however I doubted he thought he would be bandaging me up. Fred continued talking between George’s ‘are you okay?’ and ‘Are you sure it doesn't hurt?’. Even when I was all bandaged up George still held on to my arm.

“Hmmm.” I hummed once Fred finished telling me the plan.

He knew well enough to trust me with the pranks but something about me Fred thought funny to test me “Hmm?” he imitated me.

“Can you make something eat her?” I said waving my hand over the propped notebook he had in his hands.

“Like a troll?” Fred thought about it but not before looking at me with equal parts respect and as if I had completely off the rails. Nodding “Yea but made of fireworks?” I said. ‘Better make it a real one’ George murmured besides me, not only did he have a pout forming, playing around with my fingers but I was also surprised to know that at least one of them knew how to whisper.

Scratching his head Fred looked over the notebook, I wondered if they had a section dedicated to this hell I wonder if anyone but Fred could decipher the utter chicken scratch he had on there. “Blimey I know we’re brilliant but give us some room to breathe” breathing out some air Fred skimmed through the notes “What about a dragon? I reckon we can do a dragon.” Fred spoke more to himself, I doubt he meant for us to answer and I didn't even had the knowledge to answer it.

“Wait you have to take me with you guys.” I said a bit too forceful, a bit too instant and a bit too excited.

“Don’t be ridiculous you're a bloody good witch, you belong here.” George countered, startling me a he broke his silent grieving, perhaps he was afraid that the plan would back fire and they would be in for a punishment worse than writing lines.

“Screw that let’s go you can sweep around the shop.” Fred laughed ignoring his brother glares that I could feel burning the side of my face.

I wasn’t too fond of agreeing with Fred but having one of them on board was better than none “I’ll invest in your shop. I heard my parents talk about a spot in Diagon Alley, I think we can get a good price” I talked far too quickly and far too excitedly, perhaps to get ahead of them backing up on their half promise.

“An investor? You’re still going to have to clean around the shop, in a maids outfit I reckon you know for ambiance.” Fred laughed poking George shoulder when he mentioned the maids outfit, as much as I would do to make George happy I don't think I could go as far as dressing up as a maid in what I suspect is anything but a propers maid uniform.

George shook his head “We can’t take her with us Fred she can't just drop out of school l-” He said and while they argued all the time this was the first time George had been serious about it, and I finally understood the angry George he told me he said he was.

“Bite me George I’m coming with you. I wasn’t even supposed to attend this year.” I said my best trying to defuse the situation.

“Yea bite her George she’s coming with us. Wait you weren’t supposed to attend this year? What couldn't resist us?” Fred smiled flexing his arms and running his hand through his hair, an act that I’m sure nobody but himself thought of as sexy.

“My parents heard you-know-who was coming back and insisted I go somewhere else but I know Gryffindors and especially you two gits are just filled with courage and being the biggest sniffling idiots. I just had to make sure you stayed alive long enough for-”

“For?” George said interrupting me, as if the next word out of my mouth was not going to be that very explanation.

“For me to see you two again.” I said playfully bumping their shoulders, careful to mind my arm.

“Yack you’re such a sap.Come on we got things to plan” Fred said taking out parchment paper to make adjustments for their plans, George stared at me as if I had something particularly interesting on my face and for a moment I wondered if I did.

Packing up the last of the fireworks I checked and double checked we in fact were carrying hundreds of working fireworks.Snaps and crackles sounded through the hallways as Fred,George and I dropped and tossed fireworks. I held on the George because I unlike them didn't know how to ride a broom and being far too short on time to be thought how to do so.

Fire works went off below us, crashing into the room were O.W.L.S were being taken confused students and an equally confused Umbridge looked up at disbelief at us. Fireworks twisted and turned and exploded everywhere.

George and Fred highfived each other on passing as the cheers below us began getting drowned out by the deafening noise. I could hardly contain my excitement as a series of fireworks went off, shifting closer to George I looked over his shoulder waiting for the big reveal.A dragon of a hundred glowing fireworks went off as it snapped at Umbridge who was yelling trying to outrun it.

Umbridge who as I suspect could be spotted from miles away in her pink dress and pink shoes covered in black powder waved and shook her fist at us, grabbing up at the air in efforts to drag us back down.

“Give her hell from us Peeves!” The twins called out and for a moment I could’ve sworn I saw him give them a bow.

Turning my head to look at Peeves for what I suspect to be the last time, I wanted to wave goodbye to him. But I was far too off the ground and far too scared to wave instead I hopped he knew that I would despite him dropping a slug in my drink would in fact miss him very very much.

Hogwarts quickly became smaller and smaller. I see why they were considered great at quidditch I felt like I was flying through time at the probably criminal speed they were going.

“What’s the plan now Weasley?” I said looking up at him. He looked as if his face was being pulled back and I found it ridiculous that I was still in fact smitten by it.

He shrugged his shoulders yelling over the loud wind “Reckon we got to get married now don’t think you’ll get into another school.”

Nodding my head I laughed, I wasn’t sure as to what exactly was the joke or if I had laughed before the punchline but nevertheless I laughed. “I guess you’re right. You think Fred would marry me?”

“Ye- What no.Not Fred he’s a git. You should marry me” George smiled and said as if where the sanest and most normal thing anyone could say to their friend. My stunned silence made his confident smile flatten a tad as he stumbled trying to back track or perhaps he was thinking of just pushing me off the broom at this rate. “You know for business purposes we already came up with the name and I’d feel awful not including you.” He reasoned with me, if this was his idea of reasonable I was extremely worried about what he thought as unreasonable.

“Merlin Weasley at least take me on a date before you try marrying me.” My words came out shaky and I could feel my heart pounding, I wonder if George could feel it pounding against his back.

“I can do that.” He said turning to briefly face me, perhaps I’ve died and gone to heaven or perhaps I have misunderstood this situation.

“Finally for fucks sake.” Fred scoffed from above us, I knew I was in fact very much alive because Fred would not be in my idea of heaven humming disco songs as he rode his broom.

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