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#bill weasley x fem! reader
pogueswrld · 9 months
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*•.¸♡ make up sex ♡¸.•*
pairing: fred weasley x fem!plus-sized!reader
summary: Freddie talks too much, and his girlfriend is exhausting all the ways she knows to shut him up. Softly, of course.
warnings: smut🦢!1!1!1!1! there's plot and fluff, and everyone's of age ofc, although it is hinted that reader is still in Hogwarts, kinda sub!Fred top!reader, like he's whining and panting and begging and shit (bites lip) ANYWAY, dick riding hehe, no usage of y/n.
note: it is 2:59 pm on a Friday, let's see how fast I write this shit. note 0.2: Okay so it's 5:54 pm on the same day, I think I'm done. This isn't edited, but it took me 3 hours to write 😁
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He was still talking. Why, in the name of Merlin, was he still talking?
Dating Fed Weasley is fun, there's no denying that, but Good Heavens isn't that a boy a handful. Both literary and figurative. He's got a wide imagination, a never-squelching desire for knowledge, and a big heart. That is a dangerous combination for a somewhat intelligent and never-quiet man.
She's a saint, his girlfriend, and Ginny made a point to always express that to her. "How do you put up with that all the time?" Gesturing to Fred, who was using his hands in elaborate motions as he went on his fourth rant of the morning on the same subject to George. She'd only shrug, lips engulfing another spoonful of whatever ice cream the girls were sharing. "In one ear and out the other darling."
Not to say that she hates it, or that it bothers her- quite the opposite actually. Fred's excited and hyper personality is what made him so interesting to her, it was what drew her to him in the first place. She enjoys listening to him rant, even about the most random things -he stopped her the other day and explained in great detail how penguins mate and how once the female accepts the male's proposing gestures, they're together for life- and she adores it.
Yes, it sure can be a bit much at times, but she wouldn't change it for the world. Imagine loving a man who was as boring and dry as his older brother, Percy? She would have to jump out of Ginny's bedroom window!
Today was her first day back in the Burrow from Hogwarts for summer break, and she was exhausted, to say the least. She was up from dawn, finishing up the last bits of her packing before leaving for the train station with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. And because she's a good friend, she made sure each of her friends made it to their transportation safely before she and Ron were picked up by Fred and George.
In the car, Ron opened the untameable can of worms by mentioning Bill who was staying over at the Burrow for the summer as well, taking a couple of months' worth of vacation away from the dragons and such. That was the spark Fred needed to blast off into a hundred rants one after the other.
He spoke about seeing Bill again, which is understandable, he hasn't been home in years. He spoke about the dragons, which led to his excited mention of his favorites and how he's going to ask Bill how it was training them. Then he turned to Quidditch training, and even though both him and George had left Hogwarts a year or so ago, the both of them still found time to play the game as a side hobby. After that was all done, George gave her and Ron and update on the shop, and Fred went on and on about all kinds of new candies and flavors and combinations they were working on to add to the store by the beginning of next year.
She was understandably tired by the time the Burrow came into view. And as much as she adores her boyfriend, she needed him to shut the fuck up for twenty minutes. But he's so sweet, and his eyes light up when talking, and he gets this beautiful energy surrounding him when he does it that she doesn't have the nerve to ask him to be silent for a bit. So she excuses herself and tries to bury her body under the covers of his bed.
But he finds her there, and he reports to her that dinner is ready, and that Bill is here, and that she looks so gorgeous on his bed, and that there's a strange animal in the backyard, and that Ginny tried to curse the bathroom when he went in to use it, and that he doesn't understand why she'd do that, and that George is out in the garage, and that-
She jolts up on his bed, her eyes twitching as she stares at him. He looks so beautiful, but he's talking too damn much. She cups his face, and he goes silent and stares at her with wide eyes.
"Wha'?" He mumbled, his lips squished together as she squeezed his cheeks.
"You talk too much, ya' know that?" She said, her thumb slightly caressing the apples of his cheeks.
He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, and tilts his head ever so slightly. "Do' it bothe' yo'?"
She giggles breathlessly and lets go of his face before pressing her lips tightly against his. "Not all the time, but times like today..." She rests her forehead against his and sighs, "It can be a lot, and I need you to read the room and tone it down a little bit, d'ya think you can do that for me?"
He stares, something in his gaze changes, and he nods. "Of course, baby. Whateva' you want."
Great. Now she feels bad. She sighs and pushes past the blankets swallowing her to sit up on her knees. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him into a hug. "I love you, truly love you, and I don't mean to be mean to you, and you know I love it when you ramble, but I'm really overwhelmed today, darling. I'm sorry."
Fred wraps his arms around her waist in return, hugging her tightly. It's true that he can't always read the room, and now that he's no longer attending school he's got much more free time on his hands than he knows what to do with. It takes him a couple days to be able to read his girlfriend's body language like he used to once she's home from school, and he feels terrible that he was one of the reasons for making her feel so incredibly overwhelmed. He also feels slightly ashamed of his non-stop rambling all day.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, mumbling something into her skin that made her shiver and giggle away from him. "Stop," she breathes in a giggle, "It tickles."
He chuckles, his hands squeezing at the skin of her waist as he stares at her dreamily. "I said, I'm sorry I made you feel overwhelmed, I promise to try and do better."
She grins at him, so brilliantly, that he can't help but lean down and capture her lips in a soaring kiss. "I love you." He mumbles against her lips, and she smiles while trying to kiss him back. "C'mon now, love, let's go have dinner."
Her eyes darken; her pupils widen, and she smiles that mischievous grin that he adores so much, and he groans while throwing his head back. He knows exactly what is on her mind.
"I have a better idea." She whispers, giggling as she throws herself into his lap and kisses him with such force that she's pushing him down on his bed. He yelps, his hands traveling to the bed and her waist, holding on to her for stability. Bubbling heat travels across his body through her kiss, and he sighs when her cold fingertips trace down his arms, sending goosebumps across his body.
Her kisses transfer from his lips to the sides of his mouth, his cheeks, down his jawline, until she's pampering open-mouthed kisses across his neck like stardust.
He sighs, his eyes closed and his head thrown back on the pillow. "Please," He breathed, a low whine undertoning his voice. She shivers above him, her teeth grazing his skin in a teasing bite.
She's always hated the effect his voice has on her.
"Please what, darling?"
He whines. It's low, for her ears only, it's a barely-there breath, but his mouth is right next to her ear and she hears him loud and clear. Her panties dampen almost immediately.
"Please touch me," He whispers. His hands gripped tightly to her thighs. He knows better than to roam her body without permission. She pulls back slightly, blinking up at him with a soft smile and long lashes. "But I am touching you, Freddie."
He knows this game. This cruel, cruel game she adores to play. He whines in pretentious of hating his role, but his hips buck, and his cock twitches underneath the fabrics of his boxers and trousers.
He slowly traces one of his hands from her thighs to her palm before letting her fingers rest on his aching cock. He guides her hands to gently rub him through his clothes and he lets out a breath when her fingers squeeze around him. "Touch me there." He gasps.
She entertains him, allowing him to set the pace and buck into her hold. He releases deep breaths and low whines, stuttering moans every time she tightens her grip around him. She can feel herself getting wetter by the second, how his eyes are shut desperately, his teeth bite down on his bottom lip, and her name is gasped out of his throat with every other movement. It makes her feel powerful, it makes her entire being vibrate.
"That's enough." She mumbles, pulling her hand out of his grasp and bathing in his complaining whines as she pulls off her shirt. He blinks up at her, watching her boobs bounce in the push-up bra she's wearing before she unhooks it and slides it off her shoulders. He blinks again and swallows whatever drool and saliva has gathered in his mouth, causing his Adam's apple to pop along with the action. She smiles at the sight and quickly bends down to leave a swift kiss on it.
"Take off your shirt." She commands him, and he does so without hesitation, throwing the garment somewhere on the floor of the room he shares with his twin brother. He watches her hands intensely as she teases him by running her thumb on the inside of her trouser's elastic, before slowly pulling the item down and off. He groans at the sight of his favorite panties on her; a partially lacey red thong that settles up between her butt cheeks. She always told him how uncomfortable it made her, but the look on his face when he saw it on her made every second she spent wearing it worth it.
"You're trying to kill me, love?" He groans, daring himself to take a dangerous leap and push his thumb against the damp cloth, pushing down on where he knows her clit hides. He glances up at her, watching the way her lips part and her mouth hangs open at his action.
"And what am I to tell George when he asks? Death by a red thong?"
He grins up at her, picking up the speed at which he's rubbing on her bud of nerves. "Only if you're the one wearing it."
She shudders, forcefully holding herself back from grinding against his thumb. Instead, she grips his wrist and pushes it away from her. She hooks two fingers on each side of his trousers and boxers before meeting his eyes, watching as he licks his lips and nods before pulling the clothing items down his hips and legs.
His cock bounces out from underneath the fabric happily, it smacks against his lower abdomen and she giggles at the sight of precum beads rolling down his slit. He whines, throwing his arm on his face to cover the embarrassing blush that matched his hair color. "Don't laugh at me, why're you so mean to me today?"
Her giggle grows louder, and she leans down to push his arm off his face. "I never intend on being mean to you, my darling, you just bring it out of me. I'm sorry." She mumbles as she meets his gaze, her hand cupping one side of his face and he leans towards her touch. "Don't hide from me, yeah?"
He nods.
"Good boy."
He whines, his eyes squeeze shut and his jaw drops when her fingers wrap around him again, but her thumb is collecting his precum before spreading it down his length before she works a steady rhythm going up and down. His whines slowly turn into moans. His noises were so heavenly that she could swear her wetness was flowing through the fabric of her thong and onto the skin of her thighs.
She sees his muscles contracting and she stops, removing her hand from him altogether. He opens his eyes, blinking up at her in confusion as a noise of complaint slips out of his throat. But he swallows it back up when he sees her push her thong to the side and spread her folds before sitting on his length, and she grinds back and forth on him without actually allowing him access to her.
He groans, throwing his head back. She's coating him in her juices and there's a delicious squelching noise coming from between them and it's driving him insane. He sucks air into his lungs through clenched teeth and shudders when she allows a single moan to slip through her parted lips.
Suddenly, he's engulfed in her warmth and he hisses. His hands grip tightly to her thighs, hips, and any plump skin he can find. He squeezes her, hissing, and pants until he's sheathed completely inside of her. "Slow down," He gasps, "Slow- slow down, slow down, slow down." His voice turns from low breaths to almost high-pitched whines, and she leans down and captures his lips in a silencing kiss.
"Need you to lay here and keep your pretty mouth shut, darling, can you do that? Can you stay quiet for me so your family doesn't hear us fucking?" He whines, hips bucking into her warm cunt causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head as he nods mindlessly. "Yes, yes, yes. I'll be quiet. Fuck- please, baby, please fuck me."
She giggles at his desperate whines, and slowly rocks her hips back and forth, just enough movement to send pleasure jolts but not enough to get them going. She was testing the waters, trying to see how loud he could get without giving him much of anything.
Fred was losing his mind, he could feel her walls clamp down on him every time she moved back, and he could feel himself nudging against her feel-good spot every time she moved forward. Her wetness made a mess out of both of them, making it easy to slide into her and pick up the pace.
He arched his back slightly, just enough to hint at her to go faster. Because she was starting to feel frustrated, she obliged. She switched from grinding down on him to bouncing, her knees and hips working overtime to not make a noise every time her ass cheeks met his thighs.
She's now moaning, leaning down to muffle her noises by his neck or breathe them directly into his ear. Fred's eyes roll to the back of his head every time, and his hands grab onto the fat of her hips to help her.
"I-" She gasps, pushing herself upwards, clamping down on him tightly before forcing deep thrusts with her movement. "I'm gonna cum." She whimpers, and her legs begin to shake and fail her. Fred let out a loud breath that turned into a whimper before pushing himself up and, with a tight hold of her hips, forced her up and down his cock.
"Wa- wanna feel you. Wanna feel you gush around me. Give it to me, please." He whines, his words muffled into her temple, his eyes closed as her walls flutter around him, her body shivering against him and her lips part in long whines. One of his hands sneaked in between them, and his thumb drew quick circles around her clit, just enough to electrify her over the edge.
She freezes up, squeezes down on him and Fred is gone. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly down on him, the repeated squeeze of her walls stimulated him over the edge and they were shaking through their highs together. Her hands were buried in his hair, his hands holding onto her hips, while their lips interlocked in an overflowing kiss.
A few seconds later, their mouths parted as they gasped for air, holding onto one another as their highs dwindled. He traced random shapes on her bare back while she scratched at his scalp in a way she knew he loved.
He was the first to pull back, looking up at her with nothing but love and adoration. He tilts his head and grins, "Do you still want to go down for dinner?"
She laughs, heartily and loudly out of his arms and back onto the bed. "If you'll be going downstairs for a plate, get me one with you. There's no way I can look your mum in the eye after this."
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magicbystarlight · 1 month
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Before I Knew You (AU)
Bill Weasley x Reader
Masterlist, Part One
Summary: What if the fall of the Ministry didn’t interrupt the wedding? For @pearlsofme
A/N: A fun smutty little AU for Before I Knew You based off this conversation, taking place during Part Five. A big thank you to the anon who started it off and to Riele for encouraging me always 💕 Sorry it’s not an official update!
Warnings: 18+, smut, unedited, AU, eventual accidental pregnancy. Minors DNI.
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It was several dances later when your legs begged for a break. Muriel seemed distracted far on the opposite side of the tent, talking the ear off some poor soul she'd cornered, but Bill guided you along a longer route around the dance floor to avoid falling into her line of sight. Hagrid's drunken voice had fallen silent, though his snores echoed nearly as loud as the music. Everyone had decided to take a break from dancing. Luna had joined the table, leaving only a single vacant seat.
Fred smiled up at you with glazed over eyes. He pushed his chair back and patted his lap. "Need a seat, love?"
Bill’s grip on your hand tightened.
“Don’t be gross,” Ginny chastised.
He swirled his wand over his head. “I was just offering to summon a chair,” he said, as one nearly crashed against your legs. “What did you think I meant?”
Ginny rolled her eyes and focused her attention back on Luna.
Bill dragged you and the chair to the other side of the table. Charlie said something as you sat between him and his older brother, but considering it was in a language you didn’t speak you couldn’t understand what. Bill, however, could and replied equally incomprehensibly. You listened to the back and forth until Bill seemed to end the conversation. He didn’t sound happy.
“Everything alright?”
He nodded, thumb dragging across the back of the hand he still held. “Fred’s never been great at holding his liquor. Or his tongue.”
“Oh,” is all you add. There’s a lot worse innuendos he’s made sober, but you don’t think Bill would want to hear that at the moment. “What language was that?”
“Arabic.”
He continued to hold your hand as he explained how he’d ended up learning Arabic while working in Egypt. Charlie had learned it from some coworkers in Romania. He butt in to add that he’d learned a total of six languages while in Romania. Seven if you counted reading a dragon’s body language.
It’s easy to talk to Bill. Easy to smile and laugh. Easy to lean into him. Easy to let his hold on your hand become a hold on your thigh.
You blinked and the party appeared nearly over. Half the guests gone, the other half milling about subdued either by fatigue or a large quantity of liquor. The older women scooped up the centerpieces. Charlie had gone off somewhere. Ginny had gravitated towards a disguised Harry. The twins had been tasked with helping get Hagrid back to the tent he’d set up the night before, something that was taking far longer than they’d planned.
The happy couple stopped at the table to say their final goodbye. Bill’s hand didn’t move despite the raised brow Tonks gave him. You felt the heat on your face when she left you with a wink.
“You alright?” he asked, thumb drawing circles on your thigh.
“Yeah, just,” you swallowed hard, trying not to waver in your resolve, “everyone might be back soon. Think we oughta call it a night and head up to bed.”
His hand retreated immediately. “Right, yeah, right, of course.”
God, how bad at this were you? “Together?” It sounded more like a question than the statement you’d meant to make it.
“Together?”
His echoing of the question made your embarrassment far worse. Had you misread it all? “I mean—only if you—I thought—” You floundered. His laugh made you want to bury your head in sand.
“Take a breath, love.” His voice dropped as he leaned in closer, hand back on your thigh rising  up. “I want nothing more than to head up…together.” His breath stuttered when your legs widened on instinct. “Head on up, yeah? I, uh, need a minute.” With a final squeeze, his hand retreated and he sat back. The large bulge in his pants had your mind reeling.
The trek back to the Burrow was short. You were nearly to the door when you were thwarted.
“There you are dear!” Molly seemed to appear from nowhere. Trapped, you stood there and listened as she went on and on and on about the wedding. How grateful she had been for your help, how nice you looked into your dress, how kind it was of you to keep Bill company, how happy Remus seemed. “I didn’t think keeping the party would be a good idea, but Bill insisted. He’s such a good boy, so caring. I know he was hurting and he still put on a smile for his friends.”
Your stomach sank.
“For the best it was, I suppose. Tonks looked wonderful, didn’t she?”
“Beautiful,” Bill confirmed from behind you. You’d been standing there too long. His hand found the small of your back, fingers spread wide. “Thought you were off to bed?”
“Oh, dear I’m sorry!” Molly intoned. “Didn’t mean to keep you from bed. Go, go,” she waved you off, “Bill be a dear and make sure she gets to bed. Godric knows your brothers would try to pull one of their tricks. Why they can’t be more gentlemanly like you and Charlie...”
Bill didn’t need further instruction. He pushed you forward, through the door, and up the steps. Out of earshot, he let out a laugh. “She’s worried about the wrong brothers.” His hand slipped down your back and patted your ass. It stayed there until you reached your door. It was already slightly open. He pushed it open to reveal Charlie passed out on your bed with his shoes still on, hanging over the edge. With a flick of Bill’s wand, the lights extinguished, the curtains pulled closed, and the blanket slid around the sleeping man.
“Guess it’s my room then.”
You barely covered your mouth in time to tamp down a squeal as he lifted you and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. You’d have to remember to add inhuman strength to the list of side effects of non-lunar werewolf scratches. “Bill,” you hissed, clinging to his back while he climbed the stairs, “someone could see.”
The door opened with a creak. “Should be more worried about them hearing us.” He let you down when the door closed, but he didn’t let you go far. Back pressed against the door, you’re forced to turn your head up to look at him. Something in your expression made his smile pause. “You sure you want this?”
Your hand rested on his chest. “Yeah. You?” Beneath your touch, you felt the conformation ease the tightness in his chest.
“Since the moment I saw you.” He let his hold find your waist. “In the dress,” is added as an afterthought. He crushed you with a kiss, leaving you incapable of more thought. He’s demanding, rough. Experienced in a way you aren’t. Your hands trembled. “Too much?” he asked, pulling away.
You gripped his jacket and tugged him back. “No.”
A hand ran up your leg, discarded your wand, and continued beneath your skirt. He hummed his appreciation against your lips when his fingers found the drenched fabric. "So wet." The tip of his finger traced along the hem and pushed under the fabric. You whined, head knocked against the wood, eyes closed, as his finger slid across your clit. "Bill..."
"Say it again." His finger pressed hard little circles.
“Bill.”
“Fuck,” he breathed, his free hand working the front of his pants. He pushed them down, letting his cock free. The weight bounced against your stomach.
Your head snapped down.
“Like what you see?”
Cillian hadn’t seemed small at the time, but comparatively, “It’s bigger than I’m used to.”
Bill chuckled and kissed you. “Sure know how to feed a guy’s ego, don’t you?” The same hand found its way to your ass and lifted you with ease. “Wrap your legs around me, love.”
You did, hooking your ankles behind his back.
The hand between your legs departed. He used it to guide himself along your slit. “So fucking wet.”With a roll of his hips, his cock pushed its way in. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a moan. Slowly, he sunk deeper. The stretch burned pleasantly. When he found resistance, his hands found your hip and tilted them to let his cock reach deeper.
You couldn't stop the cry that tore from your lips.
"Shhh." He kissed the corner of your mouth, his hips setting a rhythm. "Don't want the whole house to hear, do you?"
You buried your head in his neck. The pace was steady, each thrust deep and slow. You couldn’t keep completely quiet. Not when you felt his cock rubbing along every inch. He wasn't much better. His groans vibrated in his chest and rumbled against your head.
"You feel so good," he mumbled. "Better than I imagined. Fucking perfect." He shifted, snaking one arm under you to keep you up and the other slipping back between you. His fingers found your clit again.
"You feel so good," he mumbled. "Better than I imagined. Fucking perfect." He shifted, snaking one arm under you to keep you up and the other slipping back between you. His fingers found your clit again.
"Bill," you breathed, nails digging into his shoulders.
"Close, love?"
You nod, eyes squeezed shut, legs squeezing tighter around him.
"Need to feel you cum. Can you do that for me? Cum all over my cock?"
Your response was another moan of his name.
“That’s it, love, just like that.”
Your body willingly obliged, clinging breathlessly  to him as you came undone. A low groan tore from his throat as you spasmed around him. He slowed to a stop as you came down from the peak.
“Good girl,” he cooed. “Do you need a minute or?”
“I’m good,” you managed to say. He was still hard, rocking into you with more patience than you could have mustered. You pulsed around him, causing him his pace to falter for a moment.
Air swirled around you. Your back met the bed. Bill hovered above you, cock still inside, hands planted on either side of your head. “I’m trying to last, love, but if you keep squeezing me like that…”
A wicked grin pulled at your lips. “Like this?”
His eyes shut with a growl. “Brat.”
You did it again.
His hips slammed forward, knocking the breath from your lungs. One hand gathered your wrists and pinned them above your head. The other wrapped around a leg and lifted it for a better angle. Gone were the gentle, slow strokes. Each thrust was sharp and unrestrained.
He found your clit again. His kiss swallowed your cry of his name. Pleasure coursed through you again. The unexpected intensity had your toes curling, eyes squeezing shut, back arching off. Your name came out of him like a prayer. He pulsed and his pace stuttered as warmth coated inside.
Bill collapsed beside you, breathless. Sweat clung to his hair and the raised edges of his scars. His suit was ruffled.
Your freed hands reached to pull down the dress that had gathered around your waist.
“Let me,” he said, sitting up to pull the hem back into place. He took an extra moment to slide your knickers back too. His hands trailed down your legs and slipped off your heels. He threw them on to the floor, his own shoes following a moment later. He stood to pull up his boxers and strip away the rest of his clothes. “Here,” he offered, holding out a shirt he pulled from a drawer. “It’ll be more comfortable.”
You scooted off the bed and reached for the zipper on the dress, but it was out of reach. Bill laughed, standing from where he'd recovered your discarded wand, and came to help. “I should shower,” you said, feeling his release beginning to pool in your knickers.
“Would I be crossing the line if I asked you not to?” You looked at him over your shoulder as he dragged the zipper down. “You smell like me.” He tugged the dress, letting it fall to the floor. “I like that.”
You couldn’t find the right words to respond so you just nodded. With the shirt on, he pulled you back into bed. Unsatisfied, his arm slung around your waist and dragged you flush against him. “Good night, love.”
You’d wake up early and shower then. If anyone saw you leaving the room, you could blame it on Charlie being in your bed. Bill had been nice enough to lend something more comfortable than a dress to sleep in. It would be fine to sleep here in his arms. No one would find out. Maybe it could happen again when Charlie leaves. If Bill wanted it to happen again, that is.
You shut your eyes and nuzzled against him. “Good night, Bill.”
You woke with a start, a loud banging rattling your bones and making you jump.
“Oy! Wakey-wa—aaat the fuck?
Next
Before I Knew You Tag List: @believinghurts @frozenwisteria @maralisa124 @voiddylanobrosey @kyla-hale-blog @pearlsofme @minstens @sofrian @sheeple @alldaysdreamers @hotleaf-juice @elnmop @sweetphantomofyournoodler @itshardbeingamultistan @remuslupinscumslutt @thesecretwriter @cali-girl-in-heart @thxtmarvelchick @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @bitch-biblioklept @unstableyetloveable @psamathegoesrawr @camelliaflow3r @undeniablyyou @luciferismybabe @luvrsbian @pink-hufflepuff @queen-of-elves @bountydroid @solkee @m-rae23 @queenofbeingdepressed @smolmexicangirl @manzanosstuff @hungrhay @mae-foster @seb-buckybarnes @idga-fudgeicle
HP Tag List: @bamboozledflamplant @charmingandfantasticfics @discogrrl @squishytomatoes @benonlinear @byelannie @itsccc @bluegiraffeplushie @pancakefancake
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nana-nana2 · 10 months
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Remembering what we had
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Bill Weasley X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Death
Author's note: This is the first time, I'm writing angst, so if you could please give me feedback.
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Laughter is heard in the Hogwarts corridors, The teacher looks around and notices two people running around, they smile at these two people.
"Ok, let's give them some privacy, oh young love" Professor McGonagall whispers to the other teacher as they leave the two teens alone.
Y/N was running from Bill as she had made a prank on him, but Bill was able to catch up to her and spun her around, before kissing her, both laughing from excitement and love. "Oh I'm so going to marry you when we're older" Bill laughs and Y/n just gazes at him full of love. "You better" Y/n laughs.
~Flashback ended~
You smile as I remember the past with Bill, tears pooling in my eyes as I look into the wedding ceremony. I smiled through the pain and said "You promised me, Bill" As you look into the wedding ceremony of Bill and his fiance, tears falling as you see Bill smile at her just like he had looked at you. After the ceremony was done, Bill looks around and notices you, he stops and looks, and you smile at him, mouthed to him "Be happy". His wife then looks at him and says "What's wrong?" Bill turns to her and whispers "Nothing, I'm just remembering her." His wife gives him a sad smile and "Do you want to visit her grave after coming back from our honeymoon?" Bill nodded, his heart belonged to Y/N but it seems time and their life never connected in this life, he had always carried Y/N in his heart, but now, Fleur had his heart, not fully but she understood why.
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I'm sorry if this is short, I just got this idea and had to write it down. It's also my first time writing angst, and I would love the feedback.
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weasleyreidstyles · 2 months
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Serendipity
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chapter seventeen
summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.
no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.
pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader
warning(s): mentions of death (its a funeral), some fluff but it's mainly angst
series masterlist; previous part; next part
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In the week following Dumbledore's death, the school had emptied out almost immediately – students were leaving via the Hogwarts Express almost daily and some parents would even apparate into Hogsmeade and meet their children at the gate to escort them home themselves.
No one trusted that Hogwarts was safe for their children anymore. Nowhere was truly safe. Not without the safety that Albus Dumbledore had always provided.
The hallways were desolate by the time two weeks had passed.
Your parents had met you and Hermione at the gates to the castle on they day of Dumbledore's funeral, pulling you both into tight hugs; unwilling to let you go. Molly Weasley had praised your efforts of saving her eldest son from Greyback, not taking into account how worried your parents would become upon not knowing if you were truly alright. Your father, a healer working at St Mungo's had demanded to know whether you should still be in the Hospital Wing recovering, but you'd assured him, and your mother, that you were only left with a few ugly scars.
Scars that you abhorred, but there was nothing you could do about the way they littered the skin of your abdomen. Mattheo had done his best to rid you of those insecurities, pressing lingering kisses to the marred skin whenever the opportunity arose. But the feelings still lingered when you examined the jagged silver lines in your bathroom mirror and in your nightmares where you don't save Bill, but end up worse off.
Hermione too, had assured your parents that she had come out of the battle virtually unscathed after they had turned to her with the same brutal enthusiasm for her safety. But the worry was still apparent in their eyes. You doubted that it would disappear any time soon. Not now that they are in the Order, and know just what you've been up to this year.
A few days after the battle, Hermione and Ron had found you while you sat in the library, enjoying a moment of solitude. They'd sat in the two seats opposite you and were looking at you with nervous expressions on their faces.
"Where's Harry?" you ask without looking up from your book. He was noticeably absent, probably grieving in his own way. Ron coughs awkwardly as Hermione shuffles in her seat.
"He doesn't know we're here, but we need your insight on something." she says and you finally look up at them, both as weathered by the battle as you are, dark circles stain their eyes just as badly as they do on your own face.
"What do you need?" You ask, voice quiet, so you don't draw any unnecessary attention. Ron reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment, which looks old and worn.
"Can you read this, and tell us what you think?" he asks as he places it on the table infront of you.
Hesitantly, you unfold the intricate little thing which reveals the neatest scroll of penmanship you'd ever seen.
To the Dark Lord, I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more – R.A.B
"What the hell does this mean?" You ask, looking up at them with the same confusion mirrored in their eyes. You give Hermione a look and she nods imperceptibly, prompting you to see into her recent memories. You look at them with wide eyes. "The horcrux was a fake?"
"And whoever this R.A.B person is, has the real one." Hermione mumbles with a nod. Ron looks between the two of you before shaking his head and taking the note to examine it for the thousandth time.
You sit back in your seat, disbelief marring your features. Had Dumbledore died for nothing?
~∞~
The actual funeral service was a long, arduous process. But it was truly beautiful, despite the reason for such a large gathering.
The sun shined brightly, even as it began its slow descent in the sky, sending ripples of dazzling sunlight across the surface of the lake, and it was so warm. Warm enough that you had to wear a sundress that had been stuffed right at the bottom of your trunk since you'd returned to school after the Christmas holidays.
It was held on the school grounds, near the Whomping Willow, surrounded by the cascading violet of the wisteria trees that surrounded the banks of the Black Lake, resembling an almost life-like watercolour painting from where you were sat. It seemed that every entity on the grounds, from the people to the flora and fauna, had felt the impact of Dumbledore's death and mourned it on that balmy June evening. Some of the plants were dull where they used to be vibrant; even the birds weren't singing as joyfully.
The atmosphere surrounding the crowd was taut, ripe with with the whispers of conversations that drifted across the assortment of seating like a strange, lulling birdsong. The attendees varied from young students to old scholars, most of which you don't recognise. But you can see members of The Order dotted about the rows sporadically, eying certain rows and glancing conspiratorially between eachother; you understand why when you see Delores Umbridge (and Cornelius Fudge) waltz up the centre aisle into one of the rows near where other Ministry officials, including Rufus Scrimgeour sat, dressed in a vibrant fuchsia pink cloak, a 'grieving' expression painted on her ugly face. They're followed closely by Rita Skeeter, her enchanted pen and pad at hand. The Order members around their row are tense and alert.
You took a seat closer the back of the crowd, beside your parents, dressed in a deep green sundress with embroidered vines of the deepest sepia winding up the skirt in intricate patterns with little bluebells climbing up the stems, to combat the stifling heat of summer, and your wand is tucked into a thin, onyx holster on your waist.
Ron had clearly forgiven you to some extent, evident in the way he'd willingly sought you out in the library over a week ago, but he was still wary of the Slytherins you surrounded yourself with; Harry seemed content with bypassing your existence entirely. It was probably wise to sit further away from them, especially because it was obvious that Harry blamed your friends for Dumbledore's death. You can see the back of Ginny's head, where she's sat with the Golden Trio about five rows ahead of you. Even from where you are, you can see how she grips onto Harry's hand for dear life.
You can even feel Mattheo's eyes on you from his seat at the very back of the procession.
Can feel the way his magic calls to your's.
He's sat with Pansy to his left, Theo to his right and Enzo and Blaise are beside them.
Draco is nowhere to be seen.
The five of them have received a multitude of looks from those surrounding them, and you would be stupid not to see the amount of Aurors and Order members who had ended up seated near them.
Just thinking about the fact that they were surrounded as if they were a guild of threatening wizards, when they were still students at this very school, made your blood boil.
They still were not trusted, despite Remus vouching for them personally. Only a few members: the twins, Andromeda Tonks and her husband, Ted, seemed to acknowledge the risk that your friends were taking by just being at the school. Even your own parents were wary. Especially now. Voldemort was actively gathering more support and wreaking havoc across the country – wizard and muggle world alike.
Despite all the eyes on him, Mattheo appears to be surprisingly relaxed. But that's only because you are in his eye line. Dressed in a pretty sundress, with your hair cascading down your back and shoulders in delightful curls that he has the urge to tug on. Only you and his friends know just how tense he truly was, surrounded by people he didn't trust; people who didn't trust him.
You look lovely. You smile at the warmth in his voice, body thrumming with the heat of his gaze from a few rows behind you. Discreetly, so you don't attract your parents' attention, you turn to face Mattheo, who has a smirk widening on his face as he takes in the flush that dusts your cheeks, despite the tension that sits on his broad shoulders.
So do you. You reply, catching your bottom lip with your teeth instinctively as your eyes trail the length of his body. What you can see of it, at least.
He's dressed in a suit of all black – no ounce of colour aside from the singular indigo bluebell in the breast pocket of his suit jacket, one that he'd conjured when he noticed the patterns on your dress. His hair is unruly as always, blowing wildly in the soft breeze.
Stop looking at me like that, darling. It's inappropriate. His handsome smirk widens with his smugness.
I can't help it. Especially when you look at me like that.
He narrows his onyx eyes playfully at you and you turn around before anyone can notice your brief interaction, exhaling a breathy laugh as you shake your head. His own laughter reverberates through your mind like a gentle caress, igniting a spark in your core.
Strangely, you can feel his magic like its your very own, even two weeks after it had initially exploded around you.
Neither you or Mattheo have an answer for it. And neither of you are in a hurry to share the discovery, for it felt far too intimate to involve anyone else.
~∞~
As the service began the merfolk, who had gathered at the bank of the lake, had begun a sorrowful tune, their pallid skin glistening in the sun, wirey hair spreading about the murky waters. As they sang their song of loss and despair, Hagrid had started to walk down the central aisle, his face blotchy and red with tears that fell heavily from his eyes. He was cradling something in his arms, or rather someone, wrapped in velvet fabric of the deepest purple, spangled with glittering golden stars. A cloak that many students had deemed as Professor Dumbledore's personal favourite over the years, as it was his most frequently worn one.
It was becoming harder to swallow as a sob crawled its way up your throat at the sight. You gripped your father's hand in your's tightly and he squeezed back.
At that moment, it seemed like all the warmth from the sun was sucked from the atmosphere, as a cold shiver ran down your spine. You couldn't feel the powerful allure of his magical core anymore. His covered body looked so small and frail in Hagrid's arms and you finally let out a muffled sob as he makes his way past your row.
You feel a wave of love, sorrow and care caress your mind, which lets you know that, despite the indifference he holds towards his Headmaster, Mattheo was also feeling the devastation that their safety blanket; the one who was supposed to help defeat great evil, was gone.
When Hagrid was near the front, you could hardly see what was happening due to the amount of heads that obscured your view, but you can hear the distinct sound of hooves on stone as a herd of centaurs make their presence known, but they did not move from the trees and their shadows. They were stood preternaturally still as they observed with their bows and weapons laying limply at their sides.
Dumbledore's body had been gently placed onto a table of pure white quartzite, that made the colours of his cloak shine vibrantly in the steadily setting sun. The tune from the merfolk reached a slow end and from what you could make out, a small Ministry official, dressed in plain black robes stood beside the table, where a small stand had been erected.
From your seats, you and your parents could hardly hear what was said in Dumbledore's honour and when he stopped speaking and took his seat again, a palpable silence swept over the crowd when no one else got up to pay their respects. It was like a brutal finality had swept over the courtyard.
Albus Dumbledore was never coming back. You were on your own in this battle.
Suddenly, bright white flames errupted around the quartzite table and Dumbledore's body, growing higher and higher, spiralling in pretty patterns as a pheonix flew amongst the inferno joyfully as if rising from the ashes, before disappearing with an abrupt flash of golden light. The white fire, too, had vanished with the pheonix, leaving a white marble tomb in it's place.
More cries of shock are let out as a shower of arrows soared through the air, falling like dangerous silver-tipped raindrops into a clearing far away from the crowd. The centaurs turned and disappeared without a trace once they'd paid their tribute; the merfolk sunk below the surface of the Black Lake promptly after them.
~∞~
"Well...that was depressing." Theo's voice was low, sarcasm etched in his tone. Blaise and Enzo rolled their eyes as Pansy openly gaped at him as passers by gave him looks of disgust.
"Don't disrespect the dead, Teddy." You admonish with a scathing look, that he only bats away with shrug of his shoulders.
"Oh lighten up, tesoro. We all know he wouldn't have cared for all this seriousness." He says, bringing you into a side along hug, ruffling your carefully done hair with calloused hands. You bat them away with an irritated huff.
As soon as you were able to, you'd made a beeline for your friends, wrapping a sniffling Pansy into a hug, comforting eachother in silence as you sent words of affection mind to mind.
Now the six of you are stood off to the side, ostracised from where many of Dumbledore's Army are stood, sharing recollections of Dumbledore's life. Harry, Ron and Hermione are nowhere to be seen.
Mattheo is a silent, imposing wall of stoicism. He doesn't take part in you're friend's untimely banter, and hardly reacts to the scathing, untrustworthy looks that are sent his way.
You send a wave of your emotions to him, love pooling over the anxiety, which causes his stiff muscles to loosen as you reach over to take his hand in your's. Unashamedly you press kisses to his scarred knuckles, running a careful hand across his arm, and thread your fingers with his.
His onyx eyes are alight with gratitude, as the two of you listen to Theo and Enzo bicker.
Suddenly your isolation is cut off by a woman who looks exactly like the one who subjected you to the cruciatus curse a year ago. Her presence makes you startle on instinct, but that feeling is overcome with guilt as Andromeda Tonks, strong-willed, beautiful, stoic and regal; a good friend to your mother and Remus, stands before you with warm, russett eyes.
"Hello Meadow." She greets you, her voice soft and low, matching the slight hauty expression that matched Sirius' with haunting accuracy.
"Hi Andy." You reply, your brows crease in confusion when her husband is nowhere to be found. "Where's Ted?"
"Talking to your father and Remus, I believe." She says, a gentle look overtaking her features that makes her appear youthful and stress free, but that look is gone in a split second when her dark eyes trail to Mattheo's hand, still in your grasp and up to his carefully guarded face.
"You look scarily like your father." She says and you feel the way Mattheo imperceptibly flinches at her observation. The boys and Pansy stop their conversation to form a solid wall of mistrust behind the two of you, faces resigned and stony.
She must sense their growing hostility because she relaxes the harshness from her face, replacing it with apology.
"I mean no offfence." She says slowly, face twisting with regret. "We cannot help who are parents are, after all."
Mattheo doesn't relax, but he knows that you clearly trust her. Andromeda turns to face you instead, that soft look that painted her aristocratic face when she first saw you, appearing again.
"I've come to offer an olive branch of sorts." She tells you. "Remus vouched for the all of you and my nephew during a previous meeting and I'm inclined to agree with him."
"Nephew?" Blaise questions and you turn to see that they all look equally as confused.
"This is Andromeda Tonks, previously Andromeda Black." You introduce her formally with a light smile on your face, and the recognition lights up on your friends' faces when you do. "Draco's Aunt."
"I do wish I was meeting your friends under different circumstances, Meadow." She says.
"What's this olive branch you mentioned?" You ask curiously, steering the conversation back in the direction it had been going in before being sidetracked.
"I'm offering my home as a safe house for you all." Andromeda replies, casting her eyes on your Slytherin friends again.
"What's the catch?" Mattheo asks, his voice filled with suspicion, his grip on your hand tightening with his growing paranoia. You sooth him unconsciously with a stroke of your fingers against his knuckles. Andromeda's careful eyes catch the moment almost immediately.
"We know you're already inducted into your father's regime, unwillingly." She says quietly, wary of Mattheo untrusting stance. "With Severus gone, it is imperative that we know what we're dealing with."
"You need spies." Theo says with certainty, his face twisting with barely restrained contempt.
Andromeda only nods once.
Theo, Enzo and Mattheo seem to have a three way conversation mentally before they come to a decision and it's Enzo who speaks up first.
"Who else besides Professor Lupin, know about this?"
"Meadow's parents, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody."
You stare up at Mattheo with uncertainty. Would they really put their lives at risk for an organisation that barely trusts them?
"Are there any other conditions?" Mattheo asks, stepping towards Andromeda slightly, but not in any threatening way.
"Gather as much information as you can, as safely as you can. And get my nephew and my sister out of that Manor."
"What about after the war?" Pansy asks, having been silent throughout the whole exchange. "Like you said, they're already inducted. If the war goes in Potter's favour, will they be pardoned?"
Andromeda seems to still at that, as if she didn't know the answer and suddenly every single one of you are on edge as you consider the possibility that, if the boys help, they could be thrown right into Azkaban to rot, simply for carrying the burden of the Dark Mark.
"After the war," Andromeda whispers, "there will be justice. But I cannot predict the outcome, and we won't win without your help. I know how Voldemort's court works, for I was part of it for much of my youth before I got out. What you're doing already is proof enough that you are inherently good, even if most people don't see it."
"But what if-" Pansy replies but Andromeda holds out one of her slim, pale hands to gently silence her trail of thought.
"Thinking of that now will not help you during this. You mustn't for it will dull your hope for a better future. Take the offer, my house is in a quiet muggle town. No one will bother you there and it's delightfully warm this time of year."
You each exchange silent but definitive looks before Mattheo nods towards her once and immediately the six of you are given the image of a quaint cottage that sits on the edge of a seaside town, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.
"Ted and I will visit occasionally, to make sure our house is not in disarray. Remus or Alastor will deliver your assignments on a biweekly basis."
"Where will you stay, if we're taking up your space?" You ask and Andromeda offers you a friendly smile.
"With your parents in a safe house of our own. With them working high profile jobs in the Ministry and St Mungo's and being 'suspected' members of the Order, they can't be living somewhere anyone can find them."
You blink back your surprise emotions at the implications of her statement. It dawns on you then. The severity of everything happening around you.
Their need for an insider means that The Order weren't as prepared as they wanted people to believe.
They were willing to send your friends to the snake pit so they would have a chance to save themselves.
~∞~
The cottage stands at the end of a winding lane in Falmouth, Cornwall. It's all cobblestoned streets and thatch roofed houses, surrounded by idyllic fields and the most stunning views of beach for as far as the eye could see.
It was certainly out of the way – the nearest village was about a thirty minute walk away.
The perfect place to erect a safe house.
The six of you are stood infront of the picket fenced gate, bags in hand as your parents, Andromeda, Ted and Remus finish putting up the final protective enchantments.
It's been a week since the funeral. In that week, you spent every possible second with your parents, who seemed reluctant to let you stay here. All week, they'd been asking you to join them in their own safe house; one accidental peak in their minds told you all you needed to know for the reason why.
They didn't trust your friends. They especially didn't trust Mattheo.
Now, you stand beside him, tucked into his side as Remus gives you a debrief of instructions for the boys' first task.
"When is the next meeting?" He asks Mattheo, head tilting as you all stand in the cramped kitchen of the cottage, your parents and the Tonks couple nowhere to be seen.
Mattheo opens his mouth to answer, but grimaces as the Mark on his forearm burns in earnest, warning him...daring him to answer. You feel his pain in the very depths of your soul, scrunching your face at the feeling that brushes over you, even as you squeeze his hand in your's.
No one seems to notice other than Remus, who stares between you and Mattheo almost too quickly that you could have missed it.
"I see." He nods to himself as Mattheo runs his hand against his agitated forearm. "Does this happen whenever you try and disclose information."
"Only with the more top secret things." Enzo says from beside Pansy, who has already found where the mugs are as she sips on a steaming cup of tea.
Remus is silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not this would even work, before he speaks again.
"At the next meeting, try and gather as much information as possible. Even if it seems meaningless – but only if it doesn't pain you." He says gently. Remus knows pain, and he knows how detrimental it can be for a person.
He doesn't want to see this group of young adults go through what he did, but he knows it's futile, and hypocritical of him to wish, for he's the one sending them into the snake pit.
"How's 'meaningless' information going to help the Order?" Theo asks with skeptical eyes.
"We need to buy Harry time." Remus says, but he doesn't divulge any further.
"Why?" You ask from Mattheo's side and Remus' gaze turns to you.
"You know why, Meadow." He says and your face twists in confusion before realisation sets in.
"He's going to hunt horcruxes instead of returning to Hogwarts, isn't he." It's not a question and in the way that Remus tenses, you know you're right.
"Yes, Meadow. But I'm afraid what they found wasn't a real one."
This, you already knew of course.
"What do you mean, it wasn't real?" Mattheo sounds like he doesn't believe a word Remus says, and one look up at his face confirms the disbelief in his tone.
"It was a fake. Something transfigured into a replica of the Locket." Remus pulls out a polaroid photo from his pocket. In the centre of the blurred image, sits a locket with a similar insignia to the ring that Dumbledore had handed to you in the Hospital Wing at the start of the year.
"That's not possible." Mattheo snarls and you take it upon yourself to push him into one of the chairs at the dining table, lest he try and launch himself at your old Professor.
"It is very possible." Remus says without a blink. "You see, in the first war, we had a spy. Only few of us knew of his identity but he told us that he'd discovered something. He'd found out about horcruxes and was going to singlehandedly destroy them himself.
One day he was scheduled to come to a meeting, to discuss any progress with his discovery, and to also give us more information on who was on Voldemort's side, but he didn't show up.
Three days later, his house elf, Kreacher showed up in my flat. He didn't even get a funeral."
Remus' voice was soft and desolate as he told you this information, eyes foggy as he relives one of the most traumatic times of his life. Your eyes are alight with realisation almost as soon as he's finished speaking.
"Kreature? Isn't that-"
"Sirius' family house elf? Yeah he is." Remus replied, his eyes glassy.
"Sirius had a brother-" you whisper, your voice betraying your sadness at the thought of the eccentric man.
"Yes. His name was Regulus Black."
~∞~
omg she's finally posted!😱😱
a few things...first of all i have 1000 followers!?! wtf!! thankyou with my whole heart 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
secondly...i've been revamping the layout of my posts but theres an issue with a couple of them (cough...chapter 16....cough) and it wont let me edit those posts but thats fine😶😶😶😶
anyway hope you enjoyed this one....the cliffhanger wasn't planned but then i liked how it flowed to the start of chapter 18 so hehehehe
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carav4l · 10 months
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dim light
Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader
Summary: After the first Quidditch match of the year, Y/N founds herself in the wrong side of the bar at the club she works at. And she’s not specially happy about it. However, Theo Nott is even more pissed, and he has all the rights to be.
Warnings: violence (not developed, but a fight does take place), swearing.
Before you read: this piece is set in a CollegeAU! English is not my first language, so please take that into consideration and be nice. Also, the whole piece is written in third POV because it’s the one I’m more comfortable with. Reader’s house isn’t specified, but definitely isn’t Slytherin or Gryffindor for the plot’s sake.
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Y/N had to cover for one of her colleagues that night, Aubrey, who was feeling unwell after accidentally tasting some unfinished potion they had been working on that morning’s class. So, much to her regret, Y/N had to experience the post-season party from behind the bar at the Witch’s Hour Nightclub. Y/N wasn't the biggest fan of Quidditch by any means, but she did love everything that came with it at the castle: the colorful stands, skipping classes to watch the other’s houses games, the tension during the match, and above all, the celebrations that followed.
"Can I have two strawberry daiquiris, please?"
Ginny Weasley's words were met with a nod from Y/N, who smiled hoping to conceal her frustration. As she prepared the drinks, she glimpsed her group of friends amidst the dance floor frenzy. Just about ten minutes ago, they had all been keeping her company, sympathizing with her bad luck until Y/N urged them to enjoy the night on her behalf, and they had moved towards the dance floor to never come back. With all honesty, Y/N didn’t blame them for doing so.
Once the daiquiris were ready, Y/N placed them in front of the redhead without a word, her forced smile still in place. After paying for her order, the Gryffindor left the bar to join Luna Lovegood on the other side of the room.
Y/N barely had time to stash the money in the cash register before another group of girls shouted their order at her, noticeably less politely than Ginny. Y/N found herself close, very close, to spitting on the three Sex on the Beach cocktails in front of her. She couldn't stand how people could seem to lose their manners with the slightest bit of alcohol in their system. It didn't take her long to realize that, when it came to those girls, the unjustified attitude was because it had been Y/N who had taken their order, not the curly-haired guy going back and forth behind her.
Theodore Nott seemed considerably more annoyed about working that night than Y/N. And rightfully so, given his position as chaser on the Slytherin team, which had also happened to lose the game that day. Well, if Y/N was in a bad mood, Theo seemed ready to hex anyone who entered his line of sight at any moment.
Y/N took the wad of bills the group left, or rather slammed on the counter, and turned to head back to the register. This time however, she ended up colliding with something herself, most specifically her coworker's chest. The boy’s hands shot to her waist to prevent her from falling, and Y/N felt the exposed skin between her black crop top and low-rise sequin miniskirt burn. She unconsciously grabbed onto Theo's forearm, her chest constricted by the sudden scare.
"Hey angel, seems like you really tripped over me there," he said with a grin once Y/N steadied herself, not even making an attempt to let her go. In fact, she felt like he was tracing circles on her hip with his thumb. Y/N became acutely aware of the places where Theo's skin touched hers. "You good?"
She lifted her gaze to his watercolor eyes and cursed herself for the effect they, and the boy himself, seemed to have on her. It was utterly stupid, as everyone knew that Theodore Nott wasn't available and didn't seem like he would ever be. The boy seemed way above any one-night stand or anything as trivial as college relationships. Y/N believed she could count on one hand all the girls she knew he had been involved with. In some way, she respected him for that.
"Yeah, sorry," she apologized with flushed cheeks, silently grateful for the dim lighting of the venue. "It's just that tonight's been a mess and I'm a bit distracted."
Her words got lost in the music resonating through the speakers. Theo put a finger to his ear to signal that he hadn't heard anything, then buried his hand in Y/N's hair and gently brought their faces closer. Y/N repeated her response, earning a nod and a guttural sound of agreement.
"Tell me about it," Theo sighed then, pulling his face back just enough for their eyes to lock. They were so close that their noses almost brushed.
"I still don't quite get why you're working tonight, to be honest. I thought there was an unwritten rule that said Quidditch players didn't have to work on match days."
"Well, let's just say dear boss couldn’t seem to care less about that rule," the guy said, giving a sidelong glance at Philippa Harvey, a rather ill-tempered Ravenclaw who happened to be the club's manager. She was on the good side of the bar, dancing suggestively with a guy Y/N couldn't quite place. "Let's say she made me an indecent proposal, and I turned her down. And voilà, here I am."
A pang of something close to jealousy reluctantly settled in Y/N's stomach. It's not like she had any right to feel that way, anyway. She opened her mouth to express how sorry she felt for him, both for Slytherin's defeat and the fact that Philippa had finished screwing the night for him, but the sound of someone banging on the counter forcefully stole her opportunity.
"Hey, you two! Less groping and more pouring drinks."
It was a Gryffindor from the Quidditch team, tall and big, with a rather ordinary face. Y/N assumed that's why she couldn't remember his name. In any case, he seemed pretty drunk to her.
After trailing her cheek with his thumb one last time, Theo let go of her and with the distasteful expression he had worn all night back in place, told Y/N that he would handle it. She sighed and resumed the task of putting away the money in the cash register. Once done, she walked over to where Theo was serving the Gryffindor big guy to attend another one who had just arrived at the bar.
As she was about to start making a gin and tonic for him, a shot glass was placed right in front of her. Y/N raised an eyebrow at Theo, and he just shrugged in response. "It's going to be a long night," he seemed to convey with the gesture. "We might as well make it as enjoyable as possible." She agreed, so she took the shot and brought it to her lips without hesitation. Theo did the same with his own shot, never taking his eyes off her, and Y/N wasn't sure if the rush of heat that swept through her body was due to the alcohol or his gaze.
"Have another one on me, Nott," the Gryffindor guy interrupted them again, placing another pair of bills on top of those already on the counter. "And another for your gorgeous coworker. It sucks that you have to be the one serving drinks after how we beat the shit out of you guys this afternoon, don't you think?"
Theo clenched his fist around the glass, his knuckles turning white. Lips pressed into a stern line, he continued preparing the jerk's drink without looking up from his task. Y/N continued hers, not taking her eyes off the scene unfolding by her side.
"I also think it sucks that such a pretty girl like you has to be on that side of the bar," the Gryffindor guy persisted, unabated. Y/N looked at him out of the corner of her eye, still working, grabbing a bottle of gin from under the bar and pouring it into the glass in front of her. "When you get a break, you could look me up. We Gryffindors know how to show a girl a good time."
Disgusted, Y/N opened her mouth to tell him that she'd rather get eaten by a basilisk than to let him lay a finger on her, but someone beat her to it.
"Don't you even think about talking to her," snapped Theo, slamming the drink down in front of the Gryffindor with such force that Y/N thought the glass might shatter. "In fact, don't ever look at her again."
Y/N was taken aback by such words. She glanced at Theo with a racing heart, but he didn't return the look because his gaze was fixed on the idiot. The latter laughed brazenly.
"And what are you gonna do about it?"
Y/N saw a glint of anger in Theo's watercolor eyes, so she hurried to slip under the boy's arm resting on the counter and interpose herself between him and the Gryffindor. For a moment, Theo ignored her and continued to glare at the rival idiot. With a slightly trembling hand, Y/N grabbed his face by the jaw and forced their gazes to meet. If he had taken her that intimately before, he shouldn't mind her doing the same, right?
"Theo," she called him. He however, not willing to give in attempted to turn his face again. "Theo, just leave it. It's not worth it."
Y/N felt Theo's grip on his jaw tighten even more, but he nodded imperceptibly anyway.
"Fine."
"Yeah, Nott, listen to your little whore."
In the blink of an eye, Theo had jumped over the counter and landed a solid left hook on the round-faced Gryffindor. Y/N gasped in surprise at the sight. The Slytherin boy wasn't particularly known for getting into fights, not even when they happened during a match and the rest of his team and some of his friends were involved. That was more typical of Mattheo Riddle, or Lorenzo Berkshire. By Merlin, even Malfoy could be more prone to fights than Theo.
But there he was, straddling a guy who was a head taller and twice his size, punching him repeatedly in the face. Y/N figured the only reason Theo barely had gotten a scratch on his cheek was that, as she had suspected earlier, the Gryffindor was quite drunk. For a moment, Y/N just stood there, doing nothing but watching the spectacle unfold before her eyes, as if in a trance that prevented her from looking away. It didn't last too long luckily, and once she managed to move, she went straight to the dance floor, heading for the area where she thought she had spotted Theo's group of friends over an hour ago.
If it hadn't been for Draco Malfoy's bleached blond hair, Y/N didn't think she would have found them in the mass of dancing bodies. Pushing any insecurities the group might make her feel deep down, Y/N grabbed the wrist of the person who was closest to her and shook them hard enough to get their attention. Mattheo Riddle's dark eyes met hers shortly after, giving her an unfriendly once-over from head to toe. The guy didn't even bother to speak, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Hmm... I'm Y/N Y/L/N," she introduced herself awkwardly, trying not to dwell on it for too long. "I work here with Theo. This is actually about him. He's fighting with a Gryffindor idiot, and I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it, but the guy is like twice his size, and I can't separate them."
Surprise transformed Mattheo's face, which only confirmed the belief that Theo and fighting didn't usually appear in the same sentence. He turned to his friends to convey the message, and they all hurriedly followed Y/N to the bar where Theo was still straddling the Gryffindor, as if Y/N had never left. In less than a second, Mattheo and Blaise had each of Theo's arms and were leading him out of the club, followed by Lorenzo, Draco, and Pansy.
Once again, Y/N stood still, not quite sure how to proceed. One thing was clear though: she definitely didn't want to be near the idiot once he woke up, or when his friends showed up and looked for someone to blame. Y/N approached the bar again to inform her only other coworker, a girl from her house with whom she maintained a friendly relationship of greetings and pleasant smiles in the corridors, that she was going to make sure Theo was okay. The girl nodded, and without further ado, Y/N headed for the back exit of the Witch's Hour, reserved only for staff and, on this occasion, Theo's friends.
Outside in the dimly lit alley, she found the curly-haired boy sitting on an old wooden crate, with Pansy Parkinson crouched in front of him at a distance that, for some reason she couldn’t wrap around her finger, seemed too short to Y/N. Pansy seemed to be giving him a quiet scolding even though there was no one else there but the two of them and their other four friends, standing prudently apart. Theo had his gaze fixed on the ground, and although Y/N couldn't see his eyes because of his bangs, she noticed that his jaw was clenched once again.
Y/N approached cautiously the rest of the group. The smell of tobacco from Mattheo and Lorenzo's cigarettes wafted into her nose, causing her to wrinkle her nose in distaste. Blaise was the first to notice her presence.
"You didn't need to come out," he spoke in a calm tone, giving her a friendly smile. Y/N shrugged and returned the smile timidly.
"Blaise’s right," Lorenzo chimed in between drags of his cigarette. The contrast between his boyish face and the action itself shocked Y/N. "Pansy knows how to handle him."
Y/N made an affirmative sound before giving a proper response. Why had she come out, anyway? The answer briefly crossed her mind, but she couldn't even process it correctly, let alone speak it out loud. She decided to go for the most obvious excuse.
"I just wanted to make sure he's okay. After all, this happened because..."
"I don’t fucking care, Theodore!" Pansy's shout cut her off mid-sentence. The five turned their heads toward them. Pansy had stood up and was pointing an accusing finger at Theo. "You're supposed to be the smart one in the group. You shouldn't stoop to this crap."
"Ouch," Mattheo whimpered, taking a drag from his cigarette.
"Don't play the victim, Riddle," Draco said, leaning against the alley wall with his arms crossed over his chest. "She hasn't said anything that isn't true."
"It's still pretty uncalled for on her part."
The conversation died there, unlike the ongoing one between Pansy and Theo. Y/N decided to wait until Theo's friends went back inside the club to talk to him alone about what had happened. She didn't feel up to doing it with all those strangers watching her from the other side of the alley, and there was no need to create such a scene.
The night was strangely cool for the time of year they were in, and considering how lightly she was dressed, Y/N began to shiver slightly. Thanks to Merlin, only a couple more minutes passed before Pansy concluded her scolding and headed back to the club. Y/N couldn't quite grasp the look she shot her as she walked by. It wasn't a look of complete disdain, at least not entirely, but it lacked the warm smile Blaise had given her earlier.
"Ignore her," Blaise reassured, that same smile still on his face. Shifting his attention back to Y/N, he noticed her shivering and promptly took off his green and black Quidditch team bomber jacket to offer it to her. "Here, take it. Give it back to Theo, and he'll return it to me."
Y/N barely had any time to refuse, but was grateful that Blaise didn't give her the chance to as she truly could use some warmth. She slid her arms into the sleeves of the jacket, which was considerably larger than her, and involuntarily breathed in its scent: expensive cologne with hints of mint and chocolate. Y/N couldn't help but find it somewhat addictive.
Once alone in the alley, Y/N walked over to where Theo was still seated, head down and hands tangled in his hair.
"Hey," she managed to say.
After a significantly long sigh, Theo raised his gaze to meet hers. With a tired smile, he greeted her in a hushed voice.
"Are you okay?"
"Mhhm," Theo barely made a sound in response, unsure of what else to say.
There was an air of something new between them, and neither was quite sure how to proceed. Y/N raised her hand with the intention of cupping his face to see for herself if what the boy had said was true, but her hand stopped midway. She attempted to disguise the motion by placing her hand on her chest.
"Thanks for standing up for me," Y/N finally said, feeling her cheeks grow warm.
"Anytime," Theo murmured, his voice slightly huskier than usual. In a sudden surge of courage he took Y/N's hand in his and tugged it gently, bringing her closer to him. He played with her fingers as he spoke again. "I wish you hadn't had to see that, though."
"Let's just say you could have settled for threatening him or something," she excused him, downplaying it with a giggle that made the boy smile. "But I'm still grateful you did it."
Silence once again settled between them, but this time it felt more comforting in a way. For a few moments, they simply locked eyes, trying to find in each other's eyes all that they were feeling themselves. Y/N was genuinely surprised to find herself in this situation with none other than Theodore Nott. There had always been a sort of mutual understanding between them, a silent complicity they didn't share with any of their clubmates. But Y/N had always assumed it was a simple friendship, that Theo considered her a part of the short list of people he tolerated, and that was it.
However, under the dim light of the moon that night, it felt like much more to her.
"I think we should go back inside," Y/N said in a hushed voice, fearing that if she raised her tone too much, the magical moment would come to an end.
"We should, yeah," Theo agreed, but despite his words, made no attempt to go back inside. If anything, he pulled Y/N's hand a bit more until she was practically between his legs.
With his free hand, Theo cautiously cradled her face, as if unsure if she would pull away. On the contrary, Y/N tilted her head letting it rest in his hand, unable to believe that all these displays of affection were coming from him.
"Can I ask you something?" Theo's voice caught her slightly off guard, but she nodded all the same.
"Sure."
"Never wear Zabini's jacket again," his words caught her with a bit of surprise, and her cheeks turned an even rosier shade.
"Why? Are you going to lend me yours or something?" she joked, pushing a couple of strands of hair from Theo's face, using the excuse to touch him again.
Theo's gaze darkened a bit, and for a moment, Y/N cursed herself for choosing those words. Maybe they weren't at that point yet, right? Perhaps they hadn't reached the teasing phase, and her comment might had made Theo close up. It wouldn't surprise her coming from him.
Y/N didn't dare breathe again until Theo spoke, eyes filled with certainty.
"Consider it done."
Her heart raced, and seeing the smile that transformed her face into one of unexpected joy, his did too.
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george-weasleys-girl · 5 months
Note
So I was wondering if you could do one where y/n is George's girlfriend and she shows up at The Burrow in the mornig and nobody knew she would come cause she wanted to be a surprise and only Mrs. Weasley is awake when she arrives and then the other Weasleys greet her at breakfast
As soon as I saw your request, the idea for it popped into my head fully formed. I wrote it in about 20 minutes. I hope you enjoy it!
~•~
Early Morning Surprise
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George x fem!reader
Y/N tiptoed into the Burrow. She was supposed to be out of town for another week visiting family, but she'd managed to get away early.
"Y/N dear! Such a wonderful surprise!" Molly bustled suddenly around the corner, causing Y/N to jump. "I didn't scare you, did I?" She asked, pulling Y/N into an all-encompassing embrace.
"Only a little," she smiled, returning Mrs. Weasley's hug.
"Oh, I'm sorry, my dear!" Molly said, letting go of Y/N to put the kettle on. "Well, it's nothing a cup of tea won't cure."
"Thanks, Molly," Y/N grinned and took a seat at the table.
~•~
George stumbled into the kitchen about an hour later, rubbing the sleep from eyes, when he caught sight of his girlfriend. "Y/N!" He sprinted toward her, his arms wide, when something nearly knocked him over.
"Y/N! You're back early!" Ginny raced past him to engulf her in a bear hug. "We weren't expecting you until next week!"
"I snuck away," Y/N grinned, giving Ginny a wink.
George tried for a second time to embrace Y/N, who he hadn't seen for almost a month, but was foiled by Arthur, who unceremoniously stepped in front of his son. "Welcome back!" He gave her a hearty hug. "We've missed you, haven't we George?"
"Yes, very much so," George said, stepping around his father, only to be pushed to the side by Percy. "Sorry, George," he apologized, pulling Y/N into a brief hug. "Running late this morning. Good to see you, Y/N. Catch up tonight?"
"Of course, Perce," Y/N smiled, stepping around him to George.
Only to be absconded for a third time.
"Y/N! How are you?" Bill exclaimed, coming at her from the side and capturing her a warm embrace. "Fleur will be here for dinner. She'll be so excited to see you!"
"And I her," Y/N replied, giggling at her inability to reach her boyfriend, who was standing with his arms folded as he watched Fred bounce down the stairs, jumping in front of him to give Y/N a welcoming hug.
"Look who's back early!" He turned back to George. "Did you see Y/N's back early?"
"No, I had no idea," George deadpanned. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to give my girlfriend a hug," he said, stepping forward, then stopped abruptly.
"Everything ok?" Y/N paused, her eyebrows scrunching together.
George looked around the room. "Just waiting for Charlie to miraculously appear from Romania."
Y/N laughed. "Oh, come here, you!" She said, pulling him close. "I've missed you so much!"
"I missed you too," George mummered in her ear before leaning back a little to give her kiss that turned her legs to jello.
"Ew! Get a room!" Fred teased, making gagging noises.
"Oh, leave them alone," Molly chastised, bopping Fred in the back of the head.
Then, turning to George and Y/N, she smiled. "Why don't you two have some breakfast and then maybe take a stroll down to the lake? Looks like it's going to be a beautiful day for it. I'll pack you a picnic."
George turned to Y/N. "What do you say? A day at the lake? Just the two of us?"
"I couldn't think of a better way to spend my first day back," she smiled, pulling him in for another kiss.
~•~
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captainlunaxmen · 5 months
Text
Eyes
Bill Weasley x Fem!reader
This was a request, not for me, but I got permission to write it so... here it is.
The request: Hi! Can I request some Bill Weasley
x reader with prompts:
'If there was ever anybody meant for me, it's
you."
"The closest thing to love at first sight l've
ever experienced happened when I first laid
eyes on you.
Where reader is best friends with
the twins so they invite her to
spend the summer at the Burrow.
Bill is also there and when they met
he's instantly attracted to her, they
spend time together and he starts
to fall for her but he doesn't think
reader would like him because of
the scars, but obviously with fluffy
ending, please? Thanks!
I changed it just a little to fit. Hope the anon who asked this will read it and will like it.❤️❤️
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I always loved it when the twins invited me over, whether it was for Christmas or summer.
It always feels like home.
When I was not at Hogwarts, I lived in an orphanage, so experiencing the Wealseys, experiencing a family, definitely felt good.
Maybe this is why they invite me so often, and I'm grateful for that. I usually spend time with Arthur, explaining the muggle world to him, or with the twins and their siblings playing Quidditch, or helping Molly cooking. Which is exactly what I'm doing now.
"Yes, exactly dear. Then you fold it towards you carefully." She instructs me as I knead the dough for the pie.
"Are you done stealing our friend, mom?" One of the twins asks as they both enter the kitchen, and I notice Molly playfully rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, mom, she is our friend." George agrees with his brother.
"She didn't steal me!" I defend, "I asked if I could help her."
"You don't need to do that." Fred tells me.
"Yeah, she already loves you." George adds, "probably more than she loves us."
"Oh shut up, you two." Molly laughs, waving them off.
"See? She is not denying it!" George feigns offence.
"I'm just spending time with my favourite assistant." Molly explains.
I smile at her as I finally finish my own pie.
"You're done." Fred notices, "C'mon, let's go."
"Why?" I ask, wiping my hands on a towel.
"You're our partner."
"And we have business to discuss."
I roll my eyes and look at Molly with an apologetic smile.
"Don't worry, dear. Humour them." She laughs again with that sweet motherly smile that always warms my heart.
"I'll come back later." I tell her.
I have no idea how I, mostly quiet and reserved, got friends with the loudest people at Hogwarts. But it happened, and now I basically help them run their shop in Diagon Alley.
Now, more than ever, I want to help them keep the shop open I this hard and dark time... that, after Dumbledore's death, will probably get worse.
I follow the twins to their room.
I take my seat next to Fred on his bed, and George sits on his.
"So... what was so urgent?" I ask.
"Oh nothing," Fred smiles proudly.
"I hate you." I say.
"You love us." George chimes in, "but we wanted to discuss the new products."
"Alright, alright. " I chuckle.
So we start to discuss what kind of things to start selling, at what price, how to organise the shelf and stands.
A good hour and a half, or a bit more, passes because Molly calls everyone down for dinner.
Finally, I'd say, I'm starving... especially for Molly's cooking.
"About time!" Fred exclaims.
"I'm starving!" George voices loudly, too.
"Same." I groan, following them down.
As we get down, I see the other Weasleys gathering around the table.
There's a new face, though, someone I've never seen before.
"Oh, look who finally decided to join us!" Fred says in his usual teasing tone.
"He's the missing one." George tells me, "you can finally say you've met the whole family."
"Uh?"
"Bill!" George calls the tall man.
"Hi, George." The guy names Bill turns to George with a playfully annoyed face, and I notice an earring with a fang dangling from his ear.
"Meet our friend." Fred chimes in, "she met everyone except you... and we've been friends for years and years and years and years -"
"I get it, Freddie, thanks." Bill laughs.
"Come, Y/n." George calls.
As soon as his brown eyes meet mine, he freezes, I see him opening and closing his mouth without letting out a sound.
I'm quite confused.
"Hi." I gently wave at him, "I'm Y/n. It's nice to meet you."
I extend my hand towards him, and he watches it for a moment before taking it and shaking it.
"Likewise, I'm William... but, of course, you can call me Bill." He says, a little flustered.
"I like the earring." I tell him to maybe make him feel more at ease.
"Oh," he laughs, "Thank you. See, mom? It's appreciated."
"I give up." I hear Molly saying.
I stop for a second, noticing just now the scars on his face, and I wonder how he got them.
He notices me looking at them and quickly turns his head.
"Well, it was really nice to meet you, Y/n. I hope to see you around." He says before taking a seat at the table.
"Yeah, me too." I say quietly, sitting next to George.
I hope I didn't offend him...
-----------------
I sit outside, enjoying the early breeze, and I read a book. These moments are my favourite. After all these years, the Wealsey silently adopted me basically, which means I do have a family. But the first times I was invited, I would just sit here in the quiet of the mornings and pretend I belong here.
"I thought I was the only early riser." A chuckle snaps me out of my thoughts, Bill closes the door and wraps a small blanket around himself against the early cold.
"You thought wrong." I smile at him and move a little aside to let him sit.
"Aren't you cold?" He asks, sitting down.
"I'm fine, thank you." I say, I see him giving me a sceptical look and putting half of the blanket around me too.
"Sure." He says, and I laugh.
We stay in a comfortable silence for a while before he speaks up.
"Egypt?" He asks.
"Uh?" I turn to him, and he motion to my book, "Oh. Yeah, I always find it so fascinating, for some reason."
"It really is." He agrees, "I got the chance to explore it because of my job, and I have to say it deserves the appeal."
"Really? What kind of job?" I ask, genuinely curious. The twins never talk a lot about their siblings.
"Curse-breaker." He says with a shy smile.
"Oh wow..." I sigh, "that's really cool."
"Is it?" He laughs.
"Yes!" I reply, surprised he doesn't agree, "you don't like it?"
"No, no, it's not that." He says, "most thinks it's pretentious."
"Nah, don't listen to them. They must be idiots." I tell him.
"Fred and George mostly." He adds.
"Doesn't make my statement false." I kid, and he laughs.
"I can see why they like you so much." He chuckles.
"I wasn't like this when I first met them..." I start, "so I really don't understand why they wanted to be my friends in the first place."
"Like what? Funny?" He asks, "or cute?" He adds so quietly I could barely hear it.
"Uhm... I... I don't know..." I stutter out.
"Sorry... sorry, I didn't mean to... it just came out... I'm sorry." He shakes his head, "Uhm... but tell me... uh, how did you meet the two idiots?"
"Well..." I clear my throat, smiling shyly at him, "they kind of bumped into me... while running from Filch."
"Yeah... I can definitely see that." He laughs again, I'm glad he doesn't feel so awkward anymore.
"Then... I kind of helped them hide." I say.
"Well, now I'm surprised." He teases sweetly, making me feel warm inside... it's a new sensation and... weird, but in a good way.
"Yep." I chuckle, "later that week they found me in the library and just... wanted to thank me, so they just stuck around, and now we're here."
"Thankfully." He says, and I look up at him, "Uhm..." he quickly averts his eyes, "I mean, everyone seems to love you so much... and I'm sure mom's happy she gained another daughter."
"Well," I let out a small laugh, "I gained a mother so... it's a win-win situation."
He looks back at me, a confused smile on his face.
"What do you mean?"
"I live... well, lived in an orphanage... so no parents." I tell him with a shrug.
"Oh..." he softly sighs.
"Oh, please, no. I'm sorry... don't feel bad." I softly laugh to let him know it's not a big deal, "yeah, it was harder when I was younger, but now... now I'm fine. Really. Your family welcomed me with open arms. Wide open arms, actually."
I see him smiling, thankfully. The last thing I wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable... again.
"I'm glad they managed to make you feel at home, then." He says, "among the caos, I mean."
"Oh, trust me, the caos is part of the charm." I gently nudges his shoulder.
"Yeah, I have to agree." He nods, "when I spend so much time away, I do miss this caothic environment."
"I bet."
I look up at him, finding him already looking to me. His eyes are even more beautiful up close. As we start to naturally lean in towards each other, Molly's voice breaks the silence.
"Stop testing your products in my kitchen!" She yells to Fred and George... for sure.
Bill and I move away from each other. I clear my throat with an awkward chuckle and stand up.
"I should... I should probably help the twins with their things... so they won't burn the whole house down." I say.
"Yeah... of course." He avoids my eyes as he nods.
"I'll see you." I gently say and he nods once again so I just get back inside.
----------------
Later in the day more members of the Order arrive, with the intention of discussing the plan of moving Harry from his muggle house to the Wealsey's.
"That's the plan." Lupin says, once Moody stopped explaining the plan of having people drinking polyjuice potion to turn into Harry and confuse any deatheater in case there would be an attack.
"Sounds like fun." George comments.
"We're not asking you to participate, so if any of you isn't sure about it, can back down." Lupin explains with a heavy heart, "only whoever volunteers will drink the potion. And only if you're of age."
Everyone looks at each other, I catch eyes with the twins, I nod at them and they stand up.
"We're in." They say in unison.
"Me too." I stand, too.
"Of course we are too." Hermione says gesturing towards herself and Ron who nods.
I unconsciously search Bill's eyes across the room. He meets my gaze and I notice something in his look, he's worried. Of course he is... three of his brothers just volunteer for a very risky mission, but the way he looks at me with those brown eyes...
I mouth 'it's gonna be okay' and he nods, subtly, but his worried look remains.
"Mundungus too." Moody says, interrupting our silent conversation, and Fletcher just nods defeated.
"Let's pair up." Lupin claps his hands. "Each 'Potter' will be assigned to a protector."
"How would we do that?" I ask, curiosity taking the best of me.
"Using same old pieces of papers with names on." He smiles shrugging, "Everyone, write your name down."
"I want to be the one to bring Harry here. The real one." Hagrid chimes in, "it fair."
Lupin nods, he then takes two bowls, gently offered by Mrs Weasley.
"Here the Harrys," he brings up the bowl in his left hand, "and here the protectors." He lifts the one in the right one.
We all do as he instructed.
He then sits down and starts taking out names.
Each one is assigned and only four people are left.
"Hermione, you'll be assigned to... Kingslay." Remus announces.
I see Kingslay sending Hermione a reassuring nod and she gives one back.
"So that leaves Y/n and... oh, Bill." Lupin says.
"Okay, everyone knows their places, right? We're leaving in an hour." Moody announces, sternly.
Everyone scatter around to get ready, so I take the opportunity to just step outside and take a big breath.
I'm not sure how I got tangled in this whole magic war, but I'm glad I did... even though it's scary.
"Are you okay?" I hear Bill's voice getting closer.
"Yeah, of course." I nod.
"You don't have to do it, you know?" He tells me.
"I know." I smile at him, "I'm not gonna lie, I'm scared, so scared I'm surprised I can still move."
He softly laughs.
"You're really brave." He then tells me.
"I'm no braver then the others," I reply, shrugging.
"You don't give yourself enough credit, I think." He nudges my shoulder.
"Thank you." I say softly, "I'm glad I got paired up with you."
"Me too. I promise to bring you home safe and sound."
"I promise too."
His soft smile makes me almost melt, if it wasn't for the cold breeze, it makes me feel safe, feels like home.
"Did the Twins warn you about the wedding?" He then asks.
"Charlie's? Yes, they did." I nod, "I think... is there something I should know?"
"No, well... if you can, try to avoid aunt Muriel." He whispers, as if he's afraid she might be here to hear it.
"I'll just stick to your side, then, you're my protector after all." I kid and I see his face getting a bit red.
"Well.. uh... of course." He stutters, "I'd rather fight deatheaters than deal with her anyway."
I genuinely laugh, unconsciously I lean my head on his shoulder and I feel him tense.
"Sorry." I say and straighten up.
I just look up at him and he does the same.
"No worries," he swallows.
He seems nervous, but not uncomfortable.
I don't know why I feel this pull towards him everytime we talk, but it's a nice feeling. I just hope I'm not making him uneasy or anything.
I catch his eyes looking down at my lips and mine falls to his.
Suddenly, he moves back, bringing a hand up to cover his scars, I can't help but look at him confused.
"Sorry," he lets out a nervous chuckle and stands, "I..."
He doesn't say anything more and just gets back inside, leaving me dumbfounded.
--------------
The clouds don't help spotting the bunch of deatheaters chasing us, I try to keep as many eyes out as I can, so I can help Bill who also has to guide the thestral.
Suddenly, I spot three hooded figures flying towards us.
"There are three coming!" I warn Bill.
I cast spells like never before, trying to stop them from coming any closer.
Some deatheater manages to hit me, luckily it's nothing major, but I let out a scream nonetheless.
"Are you okay?" Bill asks, blindly reaching behind him to check on me.
"Yes, don't worry."
I look around, and I can vaguely see Madeye and Mundungus far from us.
I stare at them, ready to interfere in case they need it, when I see a dark figure appearing...
"Shit!" I exclaim.
"What?"
"He's here." I say.
"Fuck! Hold onto me." He says before turning the thestral around abruptly, but something catches my eyes.
"Wait!" I tell him.
"What's wrong?" He asks, breathless.
"Madeye he-" I start, but get interrupted by one more deatheater flying to us.
I got to cast one last spell to take down the last enemy I can see, before Bill starts to bring us down... ready to reach the portkey.
"What did you say?" Bill asks again, reaching behind again to be sure I'm still here.
"Madeye, I saw him falling from his broom." I tell him, tears already forming in my eyes.
"What? How?"
"I think, Mundungus tried to get away as soon as he saw him appearing... Madeye tried to keep him from going anywhere, but... you-know-who killed him." I say, trying to keep my breath as steady as I can, "I say a green light..."
"Ssh, sshh, it's okay." He tries to calm me down as we arrive to the portkey.
"I'm sorry.." I mutter.
"About what?" He asks, sadly turning to face me, "it wasn't your fault, you know?"
"What if I warned you earlier? What if I..." I lower my eyes to my hands.
"Hey, hey, look at me," he says, and I do, "it was no one's fault. We couldn't know."
"Yeah..."
He gently takes one of my hands and caress it gently.
"He wouldn't want you to cry for him, right?" He says, smiling in hope to make me smile too.
"He would probably scold me for it." I let out a weak laugh.
"Exactly." He kisses the back of my hand and then rides towards the portkey, that teleports us in front of the Burrow.
We see almost everyone else already here.
I can see Remus and Tonks close to each other, Harry, Ron and Hermione too. I spot Kingslay, I think I can see Hagrid inside, but there's something wrong.
I can't see Mr Weasley or Fred, maybe they're just not here yet... but Remus is here, so... where's George?
I get down from the magical horse and run into the house, as I do I lock eyes with Remus' guilty expression and I just run faster.
I rush into the house and spot Molly caressing George's hair, as I get close I notice the blood on him.
"George..?" I weakly call and Molly turns to me, she sends a sad smile towards me and I kneel in front of the sofa to take a better look at George.
"George." I call again.
"He's alive, dear... just a dark spell..." she reassures me.
"How?" I shakily ask, more to George than Molly.
I hear fast footsteps rushing in too and Fred is just beside me. This makes me feel so much better.
They're both still alive.
"How are feeling, Georgie?" Fred asks his twin.
George slowly open and closes his mouth before speaking.
"Saintlike..." he says, and I let out a relieved laugh, "I'm holey, I'm holey, Fred. You get it?"
"With the whole wide world of ear-related humour, you go for 'I'm holey'. Pathetic." Fred teases back, I notice he says this finally letting his shoulder relax.
"Well, Y/n still finds me the most handsome of the pair, I reckon." He subtly winks in my direction.
"I'm letting this one slide because you're hurt. And clearly brain damaged, if you make that joke of all you could choose from." I chuckle moving my hand out to caress his.
I notice now that everyone has gotten inside, i spot Bill's tense, yet relieved expression.
"Madeye is dead." He says and everybody looks at him.
"You-know-who killed him." I say. "Mundungus disappeared and he was caught off guard... I think."
I sense George's and Fred's hands on mine, for comfort and solidarity.
----------------
A wedding sounds absurd considering the times we're living, yet it seems exactly what we need.
A knock on the door catches my attention.
"Yes?"
"Are you decent?" Fred's teasing voice calls from the other side.
"Sure." I laugh and he comes in.
"Are you ready?" He asks.
"Yap." I say, turning to look at him, "oh, look at you, never seen you so cleaned up."
"I take offence in that." He feigns hurt, "take it back."
"Oh, you know you're always so stylish." I stick my tongue out to him.
"That's what I thought." He winks, "I'm the most handsome of the pair."
"Sure." I laugh and sit on the bed to put on my shoes. "Is everything ready downstairs?"
"Yap, all guests are here. The party is ready to begin." He declares.
"Nice." I nod.
"Are you okay?" He asks, I can hear a hint of worry in his voice.
"Yeah."
"C'mon," he says sitting next to me, "tell Freddie what's bothering you."
"It's nothing, Fred, really." I try to divert the subject.
"You don't fool me, young lady." He slightly glare at me.
I sigh.
"Plotting without me?" I look up to see George standing by the door, the bandages on his head as a reminder of the night before...
"We could never." I say.
"Our Y/n here has something on her mind." Fred is quick to say.
"I don't..." I say... not very convincing.
"Uh uh. Tell us." George sit on the other side of me.
"Do you think... uh... did I do something wrong to Bill?" I ask, quietly.
I can sense them sharing a look.
"Whatever do you mean, love?" George asks.
"It's just... sometimes it's like he wants to be anywhere else but near me... and maybe I did something to him... but I don't know what." I explain.
"Do you have a crush on our brother, L/n?" Fred asks teasingly.
"What? No, no... I just ... ugh!" I say laying back down on the bad covering my face with my arms. I hear them softly laughing.
"I'm sure you did nothing wrong." George says, "Bill's just... Bill."
"Yeah, whatever it is, I'm sure it has nothing to do with you. Stop worrying your pretty little head." Fred nudges me.
I nod, understanding, not entirely convinced, but I appreciate their effort.
"And..." George's teasing tone makes me glare at him, already knowing what he wants to say, "if you have a crush on him, we could help you..."
"I'm sure we really should be going, you know, plus I'll see if Molly need any help." I say standing up and quickly make my way downstairs.
As I rush down the stairs I bump into someone.
"Oh, I'm so so sorry." I say.
"No worries." Bill says and I instantly look up at him, feeling a little embarrassed since I've been talking about him with the twins a few minutes ago.
"Uh... sorry" I repeat, looking away.
"It's no problem. Really." He smiles at me.
"I... I was looking for... for you mother..." I stutter out, "to see if she needed any help."
"Oh she was just outside, still congratulating Charlie and... crying too." He lets out a soft chuckle and I do too.
"Then I'll go congratulate him too, didn't get the chance yet." I smile at him and start walking out, looking for Charlie and Mrs Weasley and I find them right outside the big tent.
"Hey," I say as I near them, "congratulations, Charlie."
"Aahh, Y/n! Thank you!" He says cheerfully, once I'm close enough he brings me in for a big hug, which I reciprocate.
"I'm so happy for you." I tell him, "she seems like a sweet person... or... better a patient one." I tease.
"Alright, that's it." He says letting me go, "you're spending too much time with the twins. I'm adopting you."
"That's my duty," Molly chimes in, linking arms with me.
"Exactly, Charlie, stop stealing your mother's job." I jokingly glare at him, he smiles at me and then his eyes move to something behind me. I turn around seeing Bill walking to us.
"Congratulations, mate." Bill hugs Charlie and pat his back.
"Aah thank you! I'm so happy." Charlie has the biggest smile on his face right now, and it fills me with joy.
"You deserve it. I've never seen you so in love." Bill says.
"Well, I just hope you will experience it too, mate." Charlie sighs, "it's really the best feeling."
I smile at his words, he really loves his family... everyone in this family loves each other so much, it makes me feel at peace.
"Yeah... I can tell." I hear Bill say, I notice Charlie looking at me with a weird look.
"I'm sure you do," he then adds.
"Oh! Charles!" A voice calls from behind us, an old lady is walking towards us.
Molly is gone immediately, and Bill gently takes my arm to lead me away.
"That's... aunt Muriel." He whispers to me.
"Oh..." I chuckle, "thanks."
"No problem, I am your protector." He tells me and we enter the tent.
"Oh wow.." I say, "it looks really good."
"Yeah, I think despite the situation, Charlie got a great wedding anyway. Which makes me very happy." He tells me, and I notice just now he's sort of caressing my arm with his fingers.
"Yeah... I... I think he deserves it. You know, this is how I always wanted my wedding to look like, if I'm being honest." I say, "that... if I ever got married, that is."
"What do you mean 'if'?"
"Well, to get married you would need to find someone you love and someone who loves you" I explain with a shrug and a heavy heart.
"I'm sure.... I'm sure, you will have no problem in that." He tells me.
"I'm not so sure." I say, shrugging.
We reach a table and we both sit down, and I go back at looking around.
"It really is beautiful." I breath, "you all did a great job."
I turn to look at Bill, once again, already finding him looking at me.
"I think anyone would be lucky to marry you." He softly says, and it takes me a little off guard that my cheeks suddenly feel warm and I look away from him.
The music suddenly starts and we both turn to look at Charlie and his wife dancing for the first time as husband and wife. It's such a happy moment I don't want to miss one bit of it.
Soon enough more people join the happy couple and I too start to slightly move my feet to the rhythm. A hand is suddenly on top of mine, gaining my attention.
"Do you...do you want to d-dance?" Bill asks, stuttering a bit.
"Yes." I simply say.
We stand and walk towards the other people dancing, he carefully put his hands on my waist and I shyly put mine on his shoulders and we start moving with the music.
"This is my favourite parts of weddings." I casually say, to break the awkward silence.
"The dancing?"
"Yeah, everyone looks so happy, and it's the most peaceful part of it." I explain, "you know, everything coming before the 'yes' is like tense and uncertain. 'What if they change their mind?' Or 'what if something happens?', it's all about 'what ifs'. But the dancing... is when everything is settled and everyone is happy and can let out a sigh of relief. Does it make sense?" I chuckle.
"Makes complete sense. I kind of agree with you." He smiles, "I'll tell you a secret... Charlie was so nervous since he asked her."
"What? Really?" I ask in disbelief.
"Yeah!" He laughs, "he was so afraid she would change her mind any moment. There was one day I was visiting him, he told me he was actually waiting an owl to deliver him a letter saying she wouldn't marry him anymore. That's how tense he was."
"Oh, poor thing." I laugh, looking to Charlie dancing with his mother now, how happy he looks now.
"Yeah, took me several hours to convince him that was not the case." He tells me.
We laugh together for a moment before our eyes lock for the millionth time.
"Can..." I start, "can I ask you something?"
"Of course." He nods.
"Have I... have I made you uncomfortable in some ways?" I ask.
"What? No... of course not." He answers quickly.
"Are you sure?" I check, "I mean, you can tell me. Really it's no problem."
"I'm sure. You didn't do anything to make me feel uncomfortable." He replies, "I promise."
"Okay..." I nod, with small smile. "If I did something, though, I'm sorry."
"I promise, you have nothing to be sorry for." He reassuringly smiles at me, I smile back.
We stay in silence, looking at each other and, again, I feel the same pull towards I felt before, but this time, before anything could remotely happen, Kingslay's patronus appears.
It says the minister is dead and that the deatheaters are coming here...
The caos emerges as soon as the enemy arrives.
I look up at Bill.
"Stay close to me." He tells me and I nod.
We start fighting along the others, most guests disappear, most remains and fight.
I cast as many protection spells as I can while Bill and the other defends.
I can see Harry, Ron and Hermione disappear. Thankfully. But my attention is caught by another red-haired fighting far from me.
I rush to Ginny without even thinking and stand beside her, Lupin joins us soon.
A caos of "stupeficium" "expelliarmus" and "protego" surrounds us.
I spot someone aiming at a distracted Ginny, instinctively I step in between them, I try to yell, but too late.
I feel myself falling to the ground.
---------------
It's dark, I can hardly open my eyes, but I hear voices around me.
"She's gonna be fine." I hear someone says.
"Are you sure?" A pair of voices, this time, asks.
"Yes, I am."
I weakly open my eyes and move to sit up.
"Hey, hey, careful there." I recognise Bill's voice.
"What... what happened?" I ask, finally being able to look around. Noticing Fred and George too, I notice this is not a room I recognise.
"What happened?!" George asks shocked, "what happened she asks!"
"Unbelievable!" Fred agrees.
"So..?" I urge.
"You took a stunner for Ginny. A dark one." Bill explains.
"What were you thinking?!" Fred asks.
"I just saw him aiming at your sister and went on autopilot, I think." I say.
"What if it was a killing curse?" George basically yells.
"Could you not shout please?" I ask weakly.
They both sigh heavily and look at each other.
"You're okay." Bill chimes in from his place by the door, "that's important." He says this last bit more to the twins than to me.
"You scared the hell out of us." George says.
"Yeah, we thought we lost you." Fred nods.
"I'm sorry..." I mutter.
"No, we're sorry for yelling." Fred sighs, "we're thankful you're okay... and thank you for protecting Ginny."
I open my arms, asking them for a hug and they do, careful not to hurt me too much they wrap their arms around me.
"Where are we?" I ask, once they pulled away.
"Shell cottage." They both answer.
"In Cornwall." George keeps going, "it's by the sea."
"Oh... Nice."
"Yeah, we'll be using it as a refuge for a while." Freds explain.
"Especially until you feel better." Bill adds.
"We know you like the sea, so maybe it would help your recovery." George says, hopeful.
"I hope so." I smile at them.
"Let's leave her, boys, she need her rest not you two pestering her." Bill teases his brothers.
"We're not!" They both say, standing up and heading to the door.
"A little." I joke.
"You better rest well, young lady." Fred scolds me before following his brother out.
"I'll bring up some tea. Now rest." With this Bill exits and closes the door.
I lay back down, take a deep breath and close my eyes, hoping to get some sleep.
--------------
The sweet smell of the tea gently wakes me up.
I slowly open my eyes, noticing some rays of sun peaking through the windows.
I sit up, determined to stand up and walk downstairs. I put some clothes on and weakly walk out the room, holding onto the wall just in case.
I make my way downstairs, happy to hear voices coming from what I can imagine is the kitchen.
"Why don't you just tell her, mate?" Fred, I think, says.
"What do you mean why?" Bill asks back.
"What do you mean, what do we mean why?" George replies, "do you like her?"
"I..."
"Of course, he does!" Fred intervenes.
"Then why don't you freaking tell her?" George repeats the question.
Now, I can't help but eavesdrop. Curiosity taking the best of me.
"Have you seen me recently?" Bill snaps.
"Bill..." George starts, but he's interrupted.
"No, George." Bill's serious tone, makes my heart ache, "how could she like me back when I look like this? Uh?"
"Bill, do you think she cares?" Fred's tone got more gentle.
"We know her, mate." George tries to reassure him.
"No." Bill firmly states, "she deserves better. You should know it, she deserves someone who doesn't look like a freak, and most definitely she doesn't deserve a werewolf in her life. What if I hurt her? What if..." he chokes. I can't see him, but I can tell he's crying.
"You love her, don't you?" Fred asks... or rather, states.
"Of course, he does." George confirms, "look how scared he is!"
"Of course, I'm scared!" Bill snaps again, "The closest thing to love at first sight l've ever experienced happened when I first laid eyes on her... and it pains me how much I want to be with her, but knowing she doesn't deserve to end up with someone like me..."
That's enough, I walk up to them and their head turn up to look at me, Bill's eyes widening at my sight.
"I think that's up to me to decide." I tell him, looking him dead in the eyes.
"I..." He's at loss words.
"We'll leave you to it." The twins says and walk out.
I sit down, so I can face Bill, I slightly wince as I do.
"Careful..." he whispers, "you... you should be resting."
"You'll soon realise I don't usually do what I'm supposed to do." I smile at him.
We stay silent, none of us knowing what to say.
"Sorry." He then says.
"What for?" I ask.
"I..." he lets out a nervous chuckle, "I don't even know..."
"Was that true?" I finally ask.
"I'm afraid so..." he sighs.
"Then, I'm afraid you're stuck with me." I say, feeling bold enough to take his hand.
"I..." he look at our hands, "you mean...?"
"Yes..."
"But... you don't have to... I know you deserve something better than this." He tries to make me... reason I think, I softly laugh at this.
"Better than a hot, long-haired, curse-breaker with the kindest smile eyes I've ever seen? I'm not so sure about it." I grin at him, "what you felt the first time we met... I'm pretty sure I felt it too."
"Really?"
"Of course, I think if there was ever anybody meant for me, it's you."
He looks at me with the biggest smile, lets out a relieved laugh and comes closer to kiss me.
I'm a little taken aback, but I quickly kiss him back, my hand moves up to his cheek softly caressing his scars while his is in my hair gently playing with it.
Once we pull away we hear cheering from the other room, and we laugh watching Fred and George coming into view clapping their hands.
"Finally!"
"Good job!"
"Go away you two!" Bill scolds them.
"Hey!" They call, "no naughtinesses while we're here, alright!"
They go away and leave us officially alone.
I look at Bill and he does the same.
"I love you." He whispers, coming closer once again.
"I love you too" I say before kissing him again.
And again.
And again.
And... again.
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ONE OF THESE
Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!reader Summary: George talks about 'one of these' Warnings: mention of the war, marriage, George's lost ear
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you admired as the newly wedded couple danced their first dance
you smiled as Bill twirled Fleur around, staring at her with love
in the corner of your eye, you noticed a tall ginger step beside you, clapping along with the crowd to the music
as people began to go onto the dance floor to dance along, he leaned down to talk to you
"wanna dance?"
you looked up at him and noticed his hand outreached for you to take
you beamed as you took his hand "sure"
he took you to the dance floor and placed his hands on your hips
you lifted your arms up and rested them over his shoulders as he swayed you both to the music.
after a while of silence between the two of you, he decided to speak up
"your dress is nice"
you smiled in amusement "4 other women are wearing the same dress?"
the bridesmaid dress was a washed out type of purple-blue that matched with all the other maids.
"yeah but you look the prettiest in it" he winked
you giggled and shook your head
silence fell between you once again and his grip on your hips had all so gently tightened, barely noticable
he had been your groomsmen pair, the one you walked down the aisle with, but he was also one of your closest friends
but tonight, you didn't really feel like his friend, you're not sure what it was, but there was an awkward tension between the two of you, everything seemed a bit different.
"it's a real great wedding, yeah?" he cleared his thoat
"yeah, shame of the timing and all though, but yeah" you nodded, looking up at him, examining the bandage that wrapped around his head, covering up his 'ear' that had been blown off the night prior.
"hm, I think it's a good time, you never know what will happen" he shrugged
you considered the idea and tilted your head "good point, but then what happens if the war actually does break out and something happens to one of them? no that i think it will but-"
"-death do them part" he cut you off
you made eye contact with George when he stated that
"so, do you want one of these?" he asked curiously
"one of what?" you frowned
"weddings" he said simply
of course you did, ever since you were a little girl you had envisioned a massive wedding with the man of your dreams.
however, years later, you now doubted the existence of this dream man
"obviously, but, you know, you need to meet 'the one' first, and i'm not finding him anytime soon" you looked in the distance, at other couples dancing around you, including bill and fleur
they looked perfect for each other, they are perfect for each other
"who says you haven't already?" George insinuated
"I know I haven't" you rolled your eyes "what about you? do you want one of these?" you chuckled, teasing his wording
"of course i want to get married, but I'm afraid my future wife wouldn't want me" he smiled sadly, changing up the dancing as the song changed
"of please" you rolled your eyes "who wouldn't want you, George? you'd make a great husband, she, wherever she may be, is lucky"
he gazed down at you and smiled gently, looking at you softly
"you think so?" he questioned
"yeah" you whispered
"sorry? what was that? i can't exactly hear hear you over the music and my one ear" he lightly chuckled
you weren't there last night with him when it happened, but you were at the burrow, waiting for everyone to come home
and when you saw him come home, you almost passed out from the look of him, unconscious with blood all over him
however, you had fought the urge to throw up and ended up taking care of him.
"right, sorry" you knotted your eyebrows together, remebering the sight of him on the couch, barely awake
"so, 'the one' ay?" he queried
"what about it?" you smiled before accidentally stepped on him shoes and letting out a mumbled sorry
"do you reckon these two are each others 'the one'?" he motioned over to the newly wedded couple
"if they weren't, i don't think they'd be here now" you sighed, watching them dance happily
"well, they met when they were near our age, reckon you'll meet yours soon?" he smirked
you stepped on his shoe again and giggled
"what's the point? the war is soon, not really the time to find love" you gulped at the mention of the war, it was an understatement to say you were scared of what was nearing, but at the end of the day, it was happening no matter what, so there's no point in being terrified of your future, because it's your future.
"i think it's the perfect time, perfect time to show and tell someone you love them" he tilted his head at your comment
"oh yeah? so you're looking for your one?" you raised your eyebrows
"no need to look, i've already found them" he said simply
"oh yeah? why aren't you with her then?" you teased with a smirk
"she's not looking for love right now" he sighed
"what a shame..for you. what is she doing if she's not with you then?" you wondered as you accidentally stepped on him again
"mostly stepping on someone's shoes" he laughed lowly
"her and me both" you shook your head, obliviously
as the song changed, he took a hand off your hip and took one of your hands off hi shoulder, holding it out to the side
"yeah, that and being a bit clueless"
"clueless about what?" you looked up at him
"clueless about my feelings about her, clearly" he clicked his tongue
you licked your dry lips in thought "well maybe she does know but she hasn't said anything cause she's not looking for love right now"
he only shook his head in response before silence fell between you both once again
"no, she has no idea, even though everyone else we know tells me it's obvious" he started again hastily
"do you think she wants to know?" you questioned
"i don't know, do you think she would?" he asked back as he slowed his dancing
"well you said it yourself, you might not be able to tell her later on, so why wait? give her the love while you can" you encouraged him with a smile, feeling a tightness swell up in your stomach
"so you think i should tell her she's the one for me?" he looked into your eyes
"i do" you confirmed
"well, might wanna buckle up for this news, love" he took a deep breath
you frowned, trying to figure out what he meant by that
"i wanna have one of these with you" he motioned to the whole wedding "you're the one for me, love. i know that, 100 percent, you're my one, you are 'the one' for me, i know it"
you stopped dancing and let go of his hand, making him let go too, wondering if he messed up
"what?" you blinked
"i love you, you're the one for me and i've known that for years" he smiled sadly
"and it took you a war to admit that?" you blushed
"you never know what what will happen, i'd rather admit my feelings and something happen than never admit them and not be able to"
"if this were anyone else, i wouldn't be saying this...but i want one of these" you motioned to the wedding "with you too"
"well, i'll make sure we get one" he winked
------------------------------------------------
i don't know how i feel about this one
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No Matter What - F.Weasley
Summary: Y/N is finally meeting Fred’s parents and his eldest brothers for the holidays. She’s nervous but Fred assures her that he would love her no matter what.
Word Count: 1507
Pairings: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Use of Y/N, nervousness, Fem!Reader, non specific house, betting
Harry Potter Masterlist
my masterlist
25 days of fics masterlist
Author's Note: This is my first day of trying once again to post 25 fics leading up to Christmas! I have a few days done in advance already. I will be posting at least 2 fics per character on my masterlists. I hope you enjoy!
Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!
Enjoy!
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Y/N and Fred had been together for nearly a year. They had started dating right after New Years. For this Christmas, instead of spending the holiday at Hogwarts, Fred had invited her to the Burrow for Christmas, which she agreed to happily. However this would be the first time she had met his parents, Bill and Charlie, the two eldest Wealsley boys coming home for the holidays. She already knew George, Ginny, Ron and Percy through school but meeting the parents of the Weasley clan was something that made her nervous.
It was officially the first day of break, she was packed and ready to go, waiting by the Fat Lady’s painting for Fred and the rest of the Weasley’s, the first one to exit the portrait was George and right behind him was Fred. “You ready to go love?” Fred asked her with a bright smile on his face.
“I’m ready, let’s go boys,” She replied, matching her boyfriend’s smile. Fred was blissfully unaware of how nervous she was, he was just excited to go home to see the rest of his family, sure he had a majority of them at Hogwarts but he missed his parents dearly. He linked arms with his girlfriend who had linked arms with his twin as the three of them pranced their way to the exit of Hogwarts. 
Once they were on the train, then Fred finally took notice of how nervous his girlfriend actually was. “Why are you so nervous? I told you everyone is going to love you!”
“I know but I can’t help it. What if your mum doesn’t like me? Or your dad?” She asked, concern lacing her voice. Fred grabbed her hand and squeezed it, looking right in her eye.
“They will love you, I promise. Have I ever lied to you? Like ever?” Fred asked, she shook her head no, “So why would I lie about this? Mum and dad will love you. No question about it. George, a little backup here?” George perked up and looked right at his brother’s girlfriend, a mischievous smirk on his face.
“Oh no, I entirely disagree. I think mum will claim her as her own child, another daughter. You know how much she loves having a single girl in the house, now imagine her with another girl in the house that loves her son just as much as she does,” George said, Y/N giggling slightly, the twins doing fantastic at their job to make her feel better.
“Thank you Freddie and Georgie. I appreciate it a lot.”
She was calm for the rest of the ride, the nervous feeling only returning once they flooed into the Burrow. She was right after George to get to the Burrow, Fred and the other’s right behind her. 
“My children are home! Hello my darlings! I’ve missed you!” Molly exclaimed from the kitchen, her voice getting louder until she had reached the fireplace. “You must be Y/N! Oh you are gorgeous, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Molly pulled the girl in for a hug which surprised her, she was stunned for a moment until she finally remembered to hug the woman back.
“It’s nice to finally meet you too Mrs. Weasley. Freddie wouldn’t shut up about coming home to your cooking. He always says the house elves have nothing on you,” Y/N replied.
“Oh dear, call me Molly. Mrs. Weasley makes me feel old.”
“Can I steal my girlfriend back to introduce her to dad? You’re going to suffocate her woman,” Fred joked to his mother. Molly let go of the girl before quickly apologizing.
“I’m sorry dear, Fred just hasn’t stopped talking about you, I’ve been so excited to finally meet you!”
“I’ve been so excited to meet you too!”
“Okay, love, let’s go meet my father before my mum steals you for the rest of the holiday,” Fred grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and led her to the back yard where Arthur was tinkering with some muggle objects. “Dad, this is my girlfriend Y/N, love, this is my father.”
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Weasley, Freddie has told me loads about you,” She said with a smile.
“He’s said loads about you too! He told me you’re a half-blood, can you tell me what it’s like to have a muggle parent?” Arthur replied.
“Dad-”
“No, it’s fine Fred, I enjoy talking about my life as a half-blood, I got the best of both worlds really. I got to experience things as a witch but also as a muggle,” She explained to the man. Arthur continued to ask the girl questions, Fred eventually leaving the two of them to talk about the muggle world so he can go catch up with his mother.
“Where’s Y/N, dear?” Molly asked her son.
“Lost her to dad. They’re talking about muggles.” Fred replied.
“I had a feeling that would happen. You’ve got a good one Fred. That’s a keeper she is.”
Fred and Molly took the time to catch up, Fred telling her about school and Molly telling him about new things that she had done while her children had been away. They took their sweet time catching up until dinner was ready, Molly tasking Fred to call in Arthur and Y/N, so he went outside where he saw the two who had just met hugging, his father treating his girlfriend as one of his own. It made Fred’s heart warm to see it.
“Mum said dinner is ready,” Fred was apprehensive to interrupt but was glad he did deep down because he could finally steal his girlfriend back. Arthur was the first to let go of the girl and happily went into the house, Y/N meeting Fred halfway so they could walk into the house together. “I see that you and dad get on well.”
“Yeah, he’s a delight Freddie! He reminds me of you a little bit. You both get very passionate when you talk about things you love or have an interest in. Your eyes light up and you can talk for days about whatever it is. You two have that in common,” She smiled as they walked towards the house.
“See, I told you, there was no reason to be nervous. I do owe George a galleon now though.”
“What? Why? What did you two bet on this time?”
“I said mum would be the one to steal you but Georgie said dad would. George was right.” The two of them laughed about the bet as they entered the house and sat at the dinner table. 
Dinner went well, the Weasley’s that didn’t know Y/N got to know her and what she had liked. She had learned some new embarrassing stories about the twins as the conversation went on. And then, Molly pulled out the photo albums much to all of the Weasley children’s dismay. Y/N, Herminone and Harry, however, thoroughly enjoyed seeing pictures of their significant others as children, it gave them perfect ammunition to use against them if needed. 
Molly stayed up with the girl for a while finally getting the time to talk to her one on one to get to know her and her intentions with dating one of her sons. Y/N assured Molly that Fred was the love of her life; that there was nothing to be worried about when they were at Hogwarts because she would be there for Fred, no matter what. Molly felt lighter hearing this but she felt even better as she went on about her other children that were attending Hogwarts as well.
“Mrs. Weasley, I promise you that I will look after and care for Ginny, George and Fred when they’re away from you. They’re my family too and I care about them a lot. They mean the world to me,” Y/N assured the woman next to her. The woman pulled the girl into a tight hug as a thank you before sending her off to bed once she realized the time. She went up to the twins’ room and climbed right into Fred’s bed where he was already half asleep.
“Have a good talk with mum?” Fred asked her sleepily.
“A really good talk. I’ll tell you about it in the morning,” She replied as she was getting under the covers with him. As soon as she was under the covers, he pulled her into his side and dropped a lazy kiss to the top of her head. 
“Night, I love you.”
“I love you too Freddie. Good night.”
She had never felt so welcomed by another family before, she already felt like she was a part of the Weasley family. She knew that the family would always hold a special place in her heart no matter what happened. Fred was happy that she was quick to become part of the family, that she was quick to care for his family. He knew that he would never let her go, no matter what.
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sundrop-writes · 8 months
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Kisses Like Fire Whiskey
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Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader
Summary:
When you come back from a long healing apprenticeship in France, you and Fred catch up over drinks, reminiscing about your days as mischievous rebels. In the drunken haze, some important things are realized.
Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Fluff (with a slight bit of Angst). Set post Deathly Hallows and during Goblet of Fire.
Word Count: 7,500
Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: this is bookended with scenes that take place after the war, but obviously this is a Fred Lives AU; part of this takes place after main storyline of Deathly Hallows and part of it takes place in a flashback during Goblet of Fire (when Fred and the reader are in their sixth year); the reader and Fred are the same age; while part of this takes places post Deathly Hallows, there isn't mentions of the war; it's never mentioned exactly how long the reader was away, but the reader and Fred are both in their early 20s in the bookended parts; drinking and drunkenness are major plot points in this fic, as well as underage drinking; underage characters being in a bar/pub; Fred and the reader both drink, but there are mentions of Fred seeming more sober than the reader/handling his alcohol better; they are drunk to the point of lowering their inhibitions, but not to the point of passing out or forgetting things; mentions of George x Katie Bell as a background ship; mentions of splinching/the dangers of Apparating while drunk (does not actually happen in the fic, everyone is fine); mentions of vomiting due to over consumption of alcohol (doesn't happen to any of the main characters of this fic, it's a very small background element); passing mention of a cursed object that makes people spit up their own blood; creepy men approach the reader (and Fred defends her) - minor sexual harassment from older men toward the reader; this does use Y/N (I started out as a Quizilla girly, I will live and die by Y/N); this is mostly just mutual pining and fluff with a love confession at the end. So please enjoy!!
A/N: when I read the original request, I was inspired to take it a lot further, and after writing The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes, I have realized that I really loving writing simplistic fics that are mutual pining that turns into a love confession. It's so much fun.
...
“So then - so then - Bill says: ‘where’s Percy?’, and Mum looks around the table and realises Perce is even there.” George chuckled brightly, topping off the telling of another one of their chaotic childhood stories. 
“‘Course, Mum blamed it on us.” Fred said, rolling his eyes. 
“As if she was wrong!” You argued, reaching out and smacking him on the shoulder playfully. 
Your words were louder to your own ears than you had intended to say them, slurring slightly on your lips. Perhaps you had more to drink than you had realised, but you were simply having fun catching up with your dearest, oldest friends. So you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care or view it as a problem. 
You were simply overjoyed to see Fred and George again. 
You were visiting England for the first time in years, and naturally, the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes shop had been your first stop. You had grown up with the twins - since your first year at Hogwarts together, they had been two of your closest friends. Ever since you had been sorted into Gryffindor with them, the three of you had been thick as thieves. Right from the moment you had suggested to them that they actually unscrew a toilet seat lid and send it to their little sister Ginny in the post when they had initially just been joking about doing so. Ginny had found it highly amusing - their mother, not so much. 
But when you met Molly for the first time in person, you were always on her good side. You were very good at playing the ‘perfect angel’ in front of authority figures (unlike the twins). So you could very easily bat your eyelashes and say a few sweet things, as well as being on your best behaviour on the surface, before sneaking around with the twins at night and helping them with their pranks - not that anyone else ever suspected you of doing so. 
You were the perfect accomplice for them. Someone who was labelled as a goody-two-shoes who was down for mischief at any time. 
You had been slightly heartbroken when you found out that they were planning to quit their Seventh Year partyway through in order to start their joke shop. You knew that it had always been a dream of theirs, and it was your dream to see them succeed in it. But a large part of you had been hoping to graduate with your best friends by your side. They had offered for you to come with them, of course. They told you that you could have a very fulfilling career at the shop. But you had other plans for yourself. 
So you watched them ride off on their brooms, cheering and hollering for them alongside everyone else. And after your graduation, you had come to visit the shop in its full glory, seeing its whimsical beauty with your own eyes before you left England. As much as you hated that your lives had taken such different paths, you admired them deeply for succeeding. 
Since then, you had been in France. You had taken on a prestigious healing apprenticeship in order to become a high level Healer. It was something you had always dreamed of doing - helping people through the skilled art of healing. 
Perhaps, in some ways, it was a career choice inspired partially by your two best friends - seeing them blow themselves up or get horrible boils testing their own products, you wanted to be able to soothe the side effects faster. And you knew that there were plenty more children out there like them. Children who would fall from trees pretending to be a dragon or lose their teeth trying to eat a deck of Exploding Snap, children who needed gentle understanding from a Healer rather than scolding. 
You had recently finished up your apprenticeship, and you were hoping to get a job at St. Mungo’s to be closer to the people you always viewed as family. But even just stepping foot back in the twins’ shop felt like home. You had been greeted with tight hugs and so much chatter between them about missing you that you could barely decipher the words between two voices. They had invited you up to the flat above the shop for a drink - so now, hours later, you were quite tipsy and feeling the best that you had in years. 
“You know boys, I haven’t - I haven’t been this tossed off my tits in quite a while!” You announced loudly, pausing between words to let out a small hiccup, signifying just how drunk you were. 
You weren’t at the level of drunk where things were unpleasant - not where the room was spinning and you were on the verge of passing out, battling with nausea. But your normal sense of proprietary had definitely been tossed out the window, you felt fuzzy around the edges, and everything felt delightfully warm. Especially considering you had been drinking Fire Whiskey. 
You hadn’t had a drink all throughout your apprenticeship, as much as the other young people working with you encouraged you to ‘take a load off’ every once and a while. Your work was something that you took very seriously (especially when Fred and George weren’t around to tempt you with pranks and daily mischief). So this was the first time in a long time that you had actually taken the time to relax, and the alcohol was hitting you a lot harder than even you realised. 
The boys chuckled at your words, George turning bright red from how hard he was laughing. Perhaps the booze was hitting him pretty hard too. While Fred’s eyes were dancing with that brightness they always had when he was having fun, he didn’t seem quite as sloppy. You hadn’t been paying attention, but he likely didn’t have as much to drink, and had simply been enjoying your company the entire time. 
“You know, I really missed you, Fred and George.” You said, pure sincerity dripping through your tone, your affection amplified in your chest by your drunkenness. You couldn’t hold yourself back - your emotions bubbling to the surface without your consent. “And I really, really missed you, Fred.” 
You turned to him, putting a warm hand on his shoulder, your touch practically burning up through the sleeve of his silken shirt (you were surprised by how nicely the twins dressed now that they were established bussinessmen). You hated that you couldn’t hold back the need to emphasise the fact that you had missed Fred just a bit more. But he had been on your mind a lot more than his brother had, as scarily similar as they were. 
Even if you had barely admitted it to yourself, throughout all your years at Hogwarts, you had a romantic inclination towards Fred. 
It was never something you had acted on, for fear of ruining the amazing friendship that the two of you had. But as your visit to England grew closer and closer, you found yourself losing focus on your work and thinking about him more and more. You wondered if he had found someone - you wondered if his good looks, his charm, his humour had landed him a wife in the time that you had been gone. It wouldn’t have surprised you if, during the time you had been gone, he had married or even had kids.
Obviously he had a wonderful career nailed down, so a family would have been the natural next step for him.  
Those thoughts made you approach the shop’s door with equal parts dread and excitement. You eagerly wanted to see him again but didn’t want to see that there was a ring on his finger. You had been all too happy to find out during your long, winding ‘catch up’ conversation that, in fact, he was still single. George had brought up that fact more than once, actually, nagging on his brother’s lonely status like it was the most recent funny joke he could prod at. 
When you heard him talk about it, there was that insecurity still bubbling beneath the surface - the thought that you had missed your chance, or that Fred had never been interested in you romantically at all. It was something that couldn’t even be knocked away by booze, and that was gnawing at you now that storytime was winding down. 
Fred and George exchanged a look - one of those silent conversations that could only be had through micro-expressions because of their closeness as twins. It was something that had always deeply irritated you during your days at Hogwarts, desperately trying to decipher if it meant ‘close to expulsion’ trouble or simply ‘skipping a class’ trouble.
“Well, would you look at the time,” George said, loudly and rather cartoonishly as he looked at his watch. It was something that you likely would have found suspect if you weren’t feeling hazy and drunk. “I told Katie I would pop over to hers sometime this weekend, so I should get going,” 
Something that had come as a brilliant surprise to you: finding out that George was now engaged to Katie Bell. 
Not only were you shocked to know that George seemed more than eager to ‘settle down’ and get married, but you were entirely curious about how they came to be as a couple. Especially considering that, as far as you knew, she had always seemed to find the twins’ pranks more annoying than anything else. 
But you supposed that annoyance and attraction were two twigs on the same branch, the tree just needed to be shaken a little for something romantic to happen. The two of them hadn’t officially moved in together yet, as much as George talked about her with those sweet, rose-coloured lenses, and seemed to want to spend all his time around her. The twins still lived in the flat above the shop, two twin beds in the bedroom, as they always had in their room at the Burrow. But from the way Fred remarked on it, and from what you had seen glancing into their bedroom when you had gotten up to use the toilet, George was over at Katie’s far more than he was at their flat. 
You couldn’t help but to find it sweet. George was in love. 
It made you happy for him, knowing that he had found someone good for him. But thinking about it caused a pang in your chest as you wondered if Fred was lonely. You knew that loneliness certainly wasn’t a feeling that he was used to. If it was you or George, or one of his many other brothers, he always had someone at his side to keep him company. 
You could only imagine what those nights were like - when the shop closed up and George popped off to his soon to be wife’s place, leaving Fred to nothing but the quiet. (You knew that Weasleys were never good with quiet - part of the reason that the twins were the way that they were.) 
George peeled himself off the floor, where the three of you had been sitting around the coffee table in the lounge. Like a gangly baby deer, he began stumbling about due to his own drunkenness before he gained a proper footing and finally managed to stand up straight. You let out a snorting laugh at the sight and Fred - very clearly the most sober of the three of you - rushed out of his seat to grab George by the shoulders, making sure that his brother was alright. 
“You sure that you’re okay to Apparate, Georgie?” Fred asked.
That kindness, that caring - it was something people often overlooked when they saw Fred Weasley. But it was one of the things that had drawn you to him the most. He was such a sweet person, and he cared about the people in his life with such a ferocity that it made your soul ache just to know that you were one of them. 
“I’ll be fine, Freddie.” George replied. 
Fred picked up George’s coat and began helping him into it, and you barely paid attention to the hushed conversation that the two of them had as you picked up the large (now rather light) bottle of Fire Whiskey and poured yourself another drink. 
You caught something online the lines of ‘just go for it, for Merlin’s sake’ - very strained and annoyed, but you honestly had no clue what they were talking about. As you took a sip of your drink - you truly didn’t care. 
Fred heaved out a sigh and then George disappeared with a crack. You craned your neck to look at the spot where he had been, just wanting to make sure that there was no blood or unsightly pieces of George left behind. There weren’t any - he had done fine.
“Havin’ another one, are we?” Fred remarked, walking around the coffee table to collapse onto the plush couch behind your back. 
You chugged the rest of the Fire Whiskey from your glass all in one go, growling slightly as it burned sharply down your throat before you put the glass down once again. 
“I’m celebrating!” You cheered loudly - again, much louder than you intended it to be. “I missed my best friends so much. It’s so - so good to be home.” 
“But apparently you missed me just a bit more?” Fred chuckled, referring to your comment from before. 
You moved to get up on the couch with him, and found your legs unsteady beneath you. Fred saw what you were doing and put a hand on your upper arm, hauling you back to sit on the cushions beside him. You moaned quietly at the warmth of his large hand on your bare skin, exposed by the camisole you were wearing. At one point, you had been wearing a nice cardigan, but you had stripped out of it as the alcohol drove your body temperature up.
You leaned back into the couch, and cuddled up against him. His body was soft and muscled at the same time, and he felt so nice against you. With your inhibitions lowered, you could see no fault in snuggling tightly into his side and laying your head on his chest. You wanted to simply enjoy the physical affection from a person you had missed so dearly. 
You didn’t see the pure warring on Fred’s face as you did this - the confliction and yearning and hurt flashing over his features. He had missed you too, but he knew that you had missed him as a friend, just as a good friend, and not as the ‘one that got away’ that he had been thinking about every damn day since. But he could be cool about this, he told himself. He wouldn’t let his stupid feelings get in the way. 
After a moment of pushing those pesky feelings back down, he finally relaxed into your touches and wrapped an arm around you, lazily brushing his fingers across the bare skin of your arm on the other side. You sighed happily at the feeling. From this close, he could smell the feminine floral waft of your perfume in combination with the hot cinnamon of the Fire Whiskey. And though it only made him yearn more, it was heaven. 
He was all too happy to have you this close rather than you being so far away in France. He was happy to have you home. 
“Do you want to stay the night?” He asked. “George’s bed will be empty, of course.” 
He added on that second part quickly - he wanted you to feel comfortable, didn’t want to put any pressure on you to keep up this closeness, even if you seemed cuddly and affectionate because of your drunken state. 
Originally, you had been planning to get a room at The Leaky Cauldron, but the twins’ shop had been your very first stop, and they had torn your suitcase out of your hands to bring it upstairs for you, so it was currently sitting off to the side of the lounge with your coat draped over it. And you never did get that room. Now, you realised it was laughable to think that you’d be staying anywhere but with friends, especially with the Molly Weasley hospitality baked right into them. You had to assume that even if George wasn’t at Katie’s, he would have slept on the couch so that you could take his bed anyway. 
“Freddie, you know, I don’t think I’m going to get very far.” You said. “You - you got me pretty d-drunk.” 
Fred smiled to himself. “Ah, I see. Once again, it is all my fault.” 
It was something you did at large during your days at Hogwarts. You blamed him for yourself being late to class, you getting detentions, the few times you had ended up on Molly’s bad side. When in reality, you had always been a cheerful, willing participant in their chaos, you had always ‘blamed’ him for dragging you into it. But it only made him tempt you into more trouble. 
“It is,” You sighed, turning your head to give him a wide grin. “You always g-get me into trouble.” 
Fred let out a quiet laugh at this, and you laid your head on this chest once again. The two of you mulled in the comfortable silence for a few moments before you thought of something. 
“You know, this-s reminds me, of - of the first time you got me drunk.” You told him with a laugh. 
“Oh, god, back in sixth year?” He posed, returning to the memory himself. “That was epic. I still don’t know if I’d call it an epic disaster, or epic fun.” 
“Bit of both.” You mumbled quietly. “Always is with you.” 
Sitting there, curled up next to the lovely warmth of him, you remembered the night so fondly. 
… 
Leave it to Fred Weasley to pull you out of bed at half past two in the morning with no solid explanation as to why, aside from ‘we have plans’. 
When you asked him why he couldn’t conduct those plans with George, as he usually did, he simply smirked and said that George had plans of his own. Which deeply worried you - but you tried your best to ignore it. You knew from experience that Fred wasn’t a walking troublemaker all the time. 
In fact, the events of just a short week ago had proven that to you. He had invited you to the Yule Ball (as friends, of course) and the entire evening had been absolutely pleasant. No pranks - no water balloons, no coloured dye, no buckets of feathers, no charmed objects, no floods. It had been nothing but a delightful night of dancing and chatting with your friends. 
Even now, as Fred pulled you into the mouth of a very small passageway that you had never seen before (one that caused you to slump over in order to walk through it), you pulled your scarf tighter around yourself and tried your hardest not to worry about what he might be up to. At the very least, if he was planning something large and disruptive, you would know about it, so that you wouldn’t be on the receiving end.
He had told you that these ‘plans’ involved going outdoors, so you had bundled up well, because there was still quite a few feet of snow outside and it was chilly, seeing as it was so late at night. But you hadn’t expected it to be so damn cold, walking in a random mystery tunnel underneath the school. Again, you had no clue where he was taking you or where the thing even led - you were simply glad when it became tall enough for you to straighten your back up. 
“Where are we going, Fred?” You demanded harshly. 
“You’ll see.” Fred told you, throwing a wicked grin over his shoulder at you as he continued to lead you forward through the darkness - the light of his wand being the only thing leading the way in the musty old tunnel. 
“Nothing good ever happens when you say those words.” You replied, heaving a deep sigh. 
“Well, perhaps, you could keep your mind open this time.” He said brightly. “Loosen up. Be open to all the possibilities that the universe has to offer you,” 
You rolled your eyes at this. He was trying to direct your attention away from whatever scheme he had planned, that much was immediately clear to you. 
“Is this an escape tunnel out of the country because you finally did something bad enough for your mother to kill you?” You joked. “Let me guess, you’re meeting George in Germany? What was it that finally pushed her over the edge? Did she find out that you two took bets at the World Cup? Did she find out about the-?” 
Your words were abruptly cut off when Fred tapped his wand on the wall in front of him. It was a seemingly a dead end wall made of stone, keeping the two of you trapped at the end of the tunnel. But when he whispered some incantation under his breath, the stone began to grind loudly and it parted ways - letting in a gust of cold air from the outside, revealing the way out. 
Fred stepped forward and you continued to follow him. As the stone grinded closed behind the two of you (now disguised as nothing more than a large, natural boulder) you gaped with shock as you saw a cluster of lights just down the hill and you quickly realised what it was. 
“Hogsmeade.” You declared quietly, entirely shocked that you had walked through a dirty tunnel and ended up here. 
Somehow, without getting caught - without setting off any charms that should supposedly be in place to keep the students on the school’s grounds. 
Fred nodded proudly, grinning at you.
“How-?” You gaped. 
“I have my ways, don’t I?” Fred said, his chest visibly puffing out with pride. 
You decided not to question it. Especially because you fully understood it now - Fred was bored, he knew a way out of the school, and he simply wanted to have fun in Hogsmeade instead of laying in bed that night. 
Fred took a hold of your hand as the two of you walked into town, and you took a quiet joy in observing Hogsmeade at night. Quite a few of the shops were closed, due to it being so late, which did make you wonder why Fred had even bothered to bring you there. 
But he soon answered your question when he brought you to The Three Broomsticks - which was lit up, bustling and lively at this time. You knew that the front door was enchanted to alert the owner of underage wizards trying to pass through at certain times. Before you could even wonder what Fred’s plan was for that one - he led you around to the back, and he caught the back door out of someone’s hand as they ran outside and began puking in a snowbank, obviously unable to handle their liquor. 
The two of you slipped in the back door completely undetected, seeing as it didn’t have those same enchantments to alert the owner of your presence. You began tingling with the glee that you always wore whenever Fred pulled you along to perform some mischief. You felt so joyous when you paired up to share wicked secrets with him. Fred had a talent for getting away with things (and other times, he so fabulously didn’t) - but he got away with a lot more than anybody ever realised, right under their noses. You felt clever just being around him most of the time.
With all the confidence in the world, still holding your hand, Fred pushed past some other rowdy patrons and waltzed right up to the bar. He tossed down a few Sickles (bet money that he and George had won from the World Cup, you could guarantee) and you couldn’t help but to grin at him as so confidently placed an order. 
“Two Fire Whiskeys, please.” He announced, never once skipping a beat or faltering as any other underage person in a bar would. 
It was strange to say, but Fred wore playful deception so well. You knew that you were staring at him with intense attraction written all over your face as you admired his antics. You simply hoped that he wouldn’t catch the love dopey look on your face and call you out on it. 
“Coming right up, love-” Madam Rosmerta began to comply with his request without issue, but she took pause when she looked up from drying a glass with a rag long enough to truly look at the two of you. 
That was the moment you thought it was over, for sure. You thought that she would send an angry owl up to Hogwarts, and the two of you would be done for. You began to imagine what kind of sick and twisted punishment McGonagall would have in store for the two of you - scrubbing cauldrons for weeks, trimming all the grass on the Quidditch pitch with scissors. 
But somehow, Fred was a lot more clever than that. He wasn’t going to give up and simply let himself be caught. 
“Aren’t you two a little… young to be in here?” She posed, glancing between the two of you and then looking back toward the front door, as though she was expecting the enchantments to suddenly begin wailing to alert her to a couple of underage wizards in the pub. Even though the two of you had successfully made it all the way over to the bar without that happening. 
“Young?” Fred scoffed, putting on his very best tone of fake offence. “Honestly, woman, why would a couple of kids be in a pub at three in the morning?” 
Rosmerta raised a brow at him, making it clear that she didn’t buy this - at least not yet. 
Your stomach curled with nerves, and you tried your hardest not to show it on your face. You knew that this would either end in a spectacular punishment, or Fred would pull off one of his greatest hoaxes yet. 
“Perhaps you might recognize us from when we were Hogwarts students,” Fred shrugged, trying his best to sound casual. “But we graduated year before last. And we just got off a very long shift with the Department of Cursed Objects, and we would simply like a drink.” 
“Yeah, that last one was a doozy.” Your tongue moved before you gave it permission, and you found yourself leaning on the bar as you added onto Fred’s lie. “We had to hunt down this set of silver teaware that poisoned anyone who drank out of it. They were spitting up blood, and rotting from the inside out, choking on their own-” 
“My apologies.” Rosmerta said, giving a curt smile. Clearly, she was increasingly uncomfortable with the graphic nature of your made-up story, and simply wanted you and Fred out of her way. “You must be right. The students from the school all start to blend together after the years. How ‘bout that drink then?” 
She turned to grab a pair of non-cursed glasses, and when you glanced over at Fred, he was grinning widely at you. 
“Good one.” He whispered into your ear, and you couldn’t help the shiver that went through you at the feeling of his hot breath on your neck. If asked, you would say that it was caused by the chill of someone opening the door, and not caused by your unbearable attraction to him. 
When the drinks were placed on the bar in front of you, Rosmerta scurried off to attend to someone else. You picked up the glass that was half filled with the amber liquid, feeling intense victory and satisfaction flowing through you. In a predictable pattern, you and Fred gently clinked your glasses together. 
But rather than making a congratulatory toast in celebration of getting away with the lies, you grinned widely at him as you said this: 
“You’re a menace to society, Fred Weasley.” 
“You love it.” He replied easily, giving you a cheeky wink as he tossed back the liquid in one clean gulp. He winced slightly and sucked in a breath sharply through his teeth. But it was clearly not his first time drinking, and you had to guess that Bill was the one responsible for that. 
Wanting to match him, you did the same - you tipped the glass back, letting all of the liquid slide past your lips and down your throat in one go. It burnt sharply in a way that you absolutely weren’t expecting, and you began coughing and sputtering, giving away your amateur nature in one glance. It was lucky that Rosmerta wasn’t looking. Fred rubbed your back soothingly, though he did take a moment to laugh at you. 
“Burns, doesn’t it?” He chuckled. 
“You c-could’ve warned me.” 
… 
A short while later, the burn of the alcohol was certainly no longer a concern for you. You supposed that was part of the point - if booze made you drunk and detached from yourself, they didn’t have to make it taste good. Because after a while, you just didn’t taste it. 
You and Fred were three rounds deep, and even though he was matching you drink for drink, he was far more composed than you were. He hardly seemed drunk at all, other than the cute way he giggled at your jokes. Perhaps it was because of his height, or his Quidditch playing muscles, but he was handling his alcohol surprisingly well. 
You, on the other hand - you were properly sloshed. 
You had shed most of your winter clothing and spread the pieces haphazardly around the table that Fred had sat the two of you at. And you were currently trying to balance one of the empty shot glasses on your forehead - just to prove that you could, while Fred watched on in amusement. 
Of course, he was partially amused by your drunken antics, and partially watching your cleavage threaten to burst out of your tight, V neck tee shirt as you arched your back furiously, trying to keep the glass balanced there. Since you had shed off your jacket and thick jumper, this was what you were left in, along with your tight jeans and boots - and Fred found that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. 
“See! Told you I could do it!” You cheered, proud of yourself as you finally reached up and took the glass down, and then moved back to sit in your chair in front of Fred. 
He couldn’t help but to smile at you. Honestly, he would never doubt you in anything you set your mind to. If you said that you could walk up walls or make Snape dance a jig, he would simply wait to watch it happen. 
As he watched your proud smile and the way that the slightly drunken confidence caused you to sit up a bit taller, seeing the light from the fireplace gently kiss your skin - he was reminded of why he had brought you here in the first place. He let the alcohol in his own system give him courage (something that had been built into the plan) and he reached across the table, grabbing your hand gently with both of his. 
The suddenly serious look that befell Fred’s face surprised you. That sense of surprise only grew when he took hold of your hand. He had more than captured your attention as he began to speak. 
“Y/N, there’s something I really need to tell you.” Fred announced, his voice taking on a very rare serious quality. 
It was something you had only heard from him when he talked about the possible ways to fund his joke shop or when you had fallen off a broom playing Quidditch at the Burrow and he had been worried about you being hurt. You nodded, stunned into silence, wondering if this meant bad news coming, eager for him to continue. 
“Y/N, darling, you truly are the most amazing thing in my life.” He said, giving a small smile. Hearing this made your stomach tingle - it made the clasp of his hands around yours feel warmer. “You are so utterly brilliant. And you’re funny, and you’re the only girl I know who actually laughs at the stupid pranks I pull. I absolutely love spending time with you. I genuinely can’t imagine my life without you. So much so, that-” 
“Hello, sweet thing.” 
Fred’s words were disrupted by a deep voice, someone behind you who grumbled out these words and then let out a low whistle. 
It took you a moment to realise that it was even directed at you. But when Fred’s face switched from that sweet smile to a harsh glare - a look that was rare for him, you followed his intense gaze over your shoulder to see what he was looking at. 
It was a group of three men, much older than you, greasy-haired, wearing dark cloaks - staring at you like a pack of coyotes would stare at a hunk of fresh meat. Their gaze immediately made you feel naked, and though you were blazen hot, between the Fire Whiskey coursing through your system and the heat of the fireplace licking at you nearby, you had the urge to grab your jumper and pull it on over your head simply so that they would stop looking. 
“Now what is a pretty thing like you doing in this dirty old pub?” One of the men asked, his voice feeling filthy in your ears and causing your spine to curl with disgust and something that you would hesitate to admit was fear. “Surely you must be lost, sweet thing. Need someone to show you the way home, then?” 
You quickly jumped out of your chair and moved around the table to Fred’s side, where he had risen and easily swept you into his side with an arm around your shoulders. In a moment, you felt safer under his protective touch as he continued to glare at the men. 
“Bugger off, then!” Fred ordered sharply. 
“Oh, ‘bugger off’,” One of the others mocked Fred’s words in a whiny tone - clearly they didn’t take him seriously because he was obviously younger, even if he was quite tall for his age. 
“What are you, her little boyfriend?” Another one of them joked. 
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.” Fred stated confidently, tossing in the obvious lie. “And I can tell you that brushing your teeth is one of the first requirements to getting a woman of this calibre,” 
You resisted the urge to laugh at how his statement made their faces immediately meek and embarrassed. 
“Well, if she wants a real man, that’s up to her to decide.” The man said gruffly. “Innit, princess?” 
When he tossed out the nickname, you felt bile curl in your stomach, and it took you only a second to move when Fred uttered his next words to you. 
“Grab your coat. We’re leaving.” 
You scrambled around the table to get your jumper, mittens, hat, scarf, and your coat. As you were reaching across to one of the chairs to grab the last item, one of the men actually had the audacity to grab your wrist, stopping you from pulling back with the item in hand. 
“If the girl wants to stay and have fun, that’s her choice.” He grumbled. 
You wanted to tout that no, your idea of fun wasn’t hanging around men like this, but your voice was shrunken down into your throat with fear. 
His grip around you was stiff and painful, and you immediately looked to Fred - whose jaw was set with a seething anger that you had only seen in him once before (when Malfoy had dared to insult Ginny right in front of him). He reached one hand into his pocket and leaned on the table with the other hand. 
The man still didn’t let go of you, and you wondered if Fred’s hand was sitting on his wand in his pocket. 
“Listen, bud, I don’t speak troll, so I’ll say this very slowly for you,” Fred announced, his voice dark with anger. “Let. Her. Go.” 
The man immediately became outraged at being called a troll, and he moved his hand off your wrist, curling it into a hefty fist that he moved to swing at Fred’s head. 
Fred ducked out of the way seamlessly, and you pulled your coat into the pile of clothes at your chest as Fred’s hand came out of his pocket with a lump of something black that looked almost like ordinary coal. He tossed it down to the floor and it exploded into a cloud of pure, thick darkness. Before you could truly comprehend what was going on, Fred’s comforting arm was around your shoulders, guiding you back out the back door of the pub. 
You were thankful to be surrounded by cool air, the anxiety unwinding around you as Fred guided you away from the scene. 
“Freddie, that was amazing!” You gasped, more than happy to praise him for saving you from those creeps. 
You trudged along through the snow, incredibly chilly now that the wind kissed your bare arms and you held your jumper and your jacket rather than wearing them. But you were distracted from that feeling as you stared at the pub. You heard muffled coughs and voices loudly complaining, and as you circled around to the front, you saw the dark smoke overtaking any light that was inside, so much so that it began to pour out from the chimney and leak out of the cracks around the front door. 
“What was that?” You had to ask, looking on in pure curiosity of the concoction that he had released into the pub. 
“...new product George and I have been working on,” Fred admitted, his voice quivering with nerves slightly as he heard the coughs and sputters from inside. “Should probably adjust the size of the pellets, though. That was a bit… much.” 
“Everything about you is ‘much’, Fred.” You said, still feeling that beautiful drunken warmth. It morphed into pure admiration toward him that you could hardly hold back. “That’s what makes you great.” 
Fred chuckled at this. 
He helped you get dressed back in your warm clothes, and the two of you walked back to the castle through that secret tunnel once again. He never quite built up the courage to get back to that topic he had so badly wanted to discuss - the entire reason he had taken you to Hogsmeade in the first place. But he basked in the simple joys of the night as the two of you talked in the Gryffindor common room and eventually, you fell asleep cuddled up to his chest while lounging on a couch in front of the fire. 
… 
Now, all these years later, curled up on the couch with him much like you had been that night - you finally realised what he had been trying to say. 
“Oh my god.” You gasped quietly, opening your eyes and sitting stark upright. 
Fred was surprised by this, seeing as he thought that you were starting to fall asleep on his chest. He had been sitting there quietly, mentally debating if he should levitate you to bed or risk the neck cramps of sleeping upright on the couch himself. 
“What?” He asked quietly, feeling entirely clueless. 
“Oh. My. God!” You screamed, jumping off the couch and pointing an accusatory finger at him. 
“What? What?!” He asked, the word growing in volume and sense of alarm in his mouth the longer you went without telling him what was wrong. 
“That day - that day-” You were struggling to gather your thoughts into words, a drunken slur still slightly evident on your tongue. Though the anxiety and panic that had suddenly set in had woken up quite a few of your senses.
“What? What day?” Fred parroted back, even more confused. 
“That day.” You repeated, pressing emphasis on the word. “That time, back in sixth year, when we snuck out to Hogsmeade.” 
A look of dawning came across Fred’s features, and he became more sullen than you had ever seen him. It was something that punched you sharply in the chest as the realisation hit you even harder now. 
You had been so stupid. How could you not have known it back then? 
“You… you were gonna confess your feelings to me.” You said quietly, almost afraid to speak the words aloud. 
Perhaps he could have saved himself some pain if he lied, but he saw no good sense in denying it. 
“Yes.” He said quietly, unshed tears scraping the inside of his throat. 
“What-?” Now it was your turn to gape with confusion. “Was that the only time? Why then?” 
“That certainly was not the only bloody time.” Fred chuckled, the laughter sounding heavy and dark in his throat rather than joyous and light as it usually did coming from him. “I tried about a million other times before then - at the Quidditch World Cup, before we ran into your cousins who just so desperately needed your attention. On the train that year, before Katie burst in and stole you away to chat on about what a great summer you had. I thought perhaps you’d get the bloody point when I asked you to be my date to the Yule Ball.” 
It felt as though an icy shard was shoved right through your heart. 
You had been so stupid. 
“I - I thought you asked me to go as friends.” You told him, entirely honest about your viewpoint. 
“Well that just makes me feel like the biggest arse in existence.” Fred shrugged. 
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You barked out, feeling an intense frustration rush over you. 
You felt indignant, annoyed. You felt like something had been stolen from you - information, time that you should have spent with Fred as your boyfriend rather than the time you had spent simply wishing he was. 
Fred scoffed at this, clearly hurt. 
“Well, Y/N, at a certain point, I lost my balls!” He shouted back. That was a harsh thing to imagine - Fred Weasley losing the courage to take a risk. “I thought that after all the damn interruptions, the universe just didn’t want you to know that I’m hopeless bleedin’ in love with you.” 
Your throat clenched up when he said it in the present tense - said like he still had those feelings for you. You wanted so badly to say it back, but your voice was caught in your throat for a harsh moment. It caused a pitiable silence over the room that made him rush to continue.
“Honestly, I thought - I thought it might be different after you left.” 
He said quietly, his voice breaking around the words slightly. 
“I thought that not seeing you every day… that I might be able to forget how I felt. But it only got worse. I thought about you every single day, and I missed you so badly. And now that you’re standing here in front of me - now, you’re not just some girl I fancied in school, now… you have turned into this magnificent woman that I love. And it would be my biggest regret if you didn’t know that.” 
Fred confessed, his words so passionate that it caused tingles down your spine, and goosebumps across your arms. 
“But you’re probably so drunk that you won’t remember this in the morning, and there’s probably some French arsehole named Pierre waiting for you-” 
“There’s no one else.” You quickly blurted out, suddenly finding your voice. 
Your body finally caught up to your mind, bursting with the urge for him to know this. 
“It’s always been you, Fred Weasley.” You announced, your words slicing through the air like a diamond cutting through glass. 
His eyes lit up and this, and he stared at you with the slightest bit of hope dancing across his features as he waited, holding his breath for you to possibly confirm the thing he had been dreaming about for years. 
“And I certainly won’t forget this. No booze or potion - nothing could make me forget you saying the words I have always wanted to hear.” 
You reached out and took a tight grip on the front of his shirt, pulling him toward you with force - you slammed your lips into his, finally doing the thing you had been dreaming of since you were a teenager. He let out a moan as you kissed him with as much intense passion as he had put into his words. Right as his tongue snaked toward your lips, you pulled back for a breath, and simply for good measure: 
“I love you, Fred.” You breathed out. 
“Oh, thank Merlin.”
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iwantedtoforgetyou · 10 months
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Welcome Home, Bill Weasley
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Relationship: Bill Weasley x fem!reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Summary: With his hair short and facial stubble, Bill Weasley returns from London. You are only staying with The Burrow family for the summer. You weren't expecting to see a person whose face you had memorized over time.
Sunlight poured through the slightly tattered curtains, casting a warm glow on the worn countertops and the mismatched china displayed on the shelves.
The sound of running water filled the air as you diligently washed dishes, a contented smile on your face.
You loved these moments, the simplicity of domesticity, and the sense of belonging you felt within the walls of this magical home. It was a place that held so many memories and where you had found a surrogate family.
Just as you reached for another plate, a voice called out from the living room. "Darling!" Mrs. Weasley's voice echoed through the house.
You turned your head, your heart skipping a beat as you caught sight of Mrs. Weasley's expression. In an instant, you felt your breath catch in your throat, anticipation and curiosity flooding your senses.
Mrs. Weasley moved swiftly, gently bumping you aside as she grabbed a towel and hurried to the kitchen sink.
"There's no need to do these!" she exclaimed, her hair slightly disheveled and a rosy flush adorning her cheeks.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you couldn't contain your curiosity. "What's happening, Mrs. Weasley?" you asked, your voice filled with both concern and intrigue.
Mrs. Weasley glanced at you with a mix of excitement and motherly affection. "Molly, sweetie," she corrected, a fond smile playing on her lips. "Just call me Molly."
You blinked, surprised by the sudden change in address, but a warm smile spread across your face. "Alright, Molly," you replied, feeling a sense of closeness and acceptance wash over you.
Before you could ask further, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway, causing your heart to race. Bill Weasley stood there, his presence filling the room with a mix of surprise and joy. His hair was slightly tousled, and a crooked grin adorned his handsome face.
You felt your knees weaken, your breath catching in your chest. You hadn't expected Bill to return home so soon. Memories of your past flooded your mind, the way his laughter could make your heart skip, the way his eyes held a spark of mischief and tenderness.
Mrs. Weasley wasted no time, abandoning the sink to rush into Bill's arms. The motherly embrace enveloped him, her words muffled against his chest.
The Burrow creaked as the rest of the Weasley family gathered in the kitchen, their cheerful presence filling the space with warmth and familiarity.
Bill's gaze met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The air crackled with unspoken emotions as he released his grip on his mother. He started walking towards you, his gaze never leaving yours.
Your heart pounded in your chest, and you could feel your palms growing clammy.
He drew you into a tight embrace, his arms enveloping you in warmth and familiarity. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, holding him close, savoring the sensation of being in his arms once again.
Bill leaned back slightly, his hands resting gently on your waist, as he looked at you with a mix of surprise and delight.
You were left shivering as Ron tugged on his shirt, prompting him to step back.
"Come join me and George in the yard!" Ron exclaimed eagerly.
"Ron, my dear," Molly interjected, affectionately tousling his hair. "Let Bill settle in first, please."
Bill waved his hand dismissively. "It's alright, he's just thrilled to see me."
In one swift motion, he scooped Ron up and hoisted him over his shoulder, letting Ron's head hang loosely against his back.
"Let's go, you goofballs!" he shouted, pushing George through the rear door.
The remaining Weasley brothers followed Bill outside, ready to practice the new spells they had recently learned in class.
Caught up in the excitement, you couldn't resist joining them outside. You took a deep breath, your heart fluttering as you watched Bill playfully interact with his brothers outside.
The familiar warmth of the Burrow surrounded you, creating a sense of comfort and belonging. You couldn't deny the joy you felt at his return, even though you knew he was involved with someone else.
As the chaos settled outside, you stepped out onto the porch, your eyes searching for Bill among the boisterous Weasley clan. You found him leaning against a tree, catching his breath from the playful wrestling match with Ron.
Your eyes met, and a soft smile spread across his face as he made his way towards you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn't help but smile in return.
“Hey," Bill said, his voice gentle and warm. "It's good to see you here."
Your fingers nervously played with the hem of your shirt as you replied, "It's good to be here. The Burrow feels like home."
Bill's gaze softened, and he took a step closer to you. "You've always been a part of this family, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "It's good to have you back."
You swallowed the lump in your throat, your eyes shining with unspoken emotions. "Thank you, Bill," you whispered. "I've missed being around all of you."
As they stood there, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of fresh grass and the laughter of the Weasley siblings, you felt a mixture of contentment and longing. The years apart had changed you both, but the connection you shared remained.
Bill reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "You know," he said softly, his voice filled with a hint of hesitation, "things have changed since we last saw each other."
Your breath hitched, your eyes locked with his, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yes, they have," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
Bill took another step closer, the space between you shrinking. "But some things haven't changed," he murmured, his voice low and filled with tenderness. "The way you make me feel, Y/N... it's still there."
A mix of hope and uncertainty swirled within your heart. You wanted to believe that you could find your way back to each other, but you also didn't want to disrupt the life he had built with Fleur.
"Bill," you began, your voice filled with vulnerability, "I don't want to complicate things. You have someone special in your life."
He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing a soft caress. "Fleur and I, we're going through a difficult time," he confessed. "Being here, seeing you again... it makes me question everything."
Your eyes searched his face, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation. "Bill, I don't want to be the reason for any pain or confusion," you said, your voice trembling slightly.
Bill's gaze held a mixture of longing and determination. "You've never been a burden, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with certainty. "If anything, you've always been the one who brings light into my life."
The air around you was heavy with unspoken desire and the lingering question of what could be. You knew you had a choice to make – to explore the possibility of a renewed connection with Bill or to protect your heart from potential heartache.
With a mix of courage and vulnerability, you leaned in, your lips just inches away from his. "Bill," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, "I can't promise you a future or how things will unfold, but I do know that being here, in this moment, feels right."
Bill's eyes searched yours, a swirl of emotions reflecting in his gaze. He closed the remaining gap between you, his lips softly brushing against yours. The kiss was tender, filled with unspoken longing and the weight of your shared history.
Your heart fluttered as you wrapped your arms around him, deepening the kiss. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in the warmth and sweetness of the moment. The worries and uncertainties faded away, leaving only the electric connection between you.
Your embrace tightened, as if trying to hold onto the preciousness of the moment. You could feel the familiar touch of his hand at the small of your back, his fingers tracing gentle circles, and it felt like coming home.
You were finally home.
Note: Bill Weasley is underrated, that’s all I have to say.
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magicbystarlight · 1 year
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Before I Knew You - Part Nine
Masterlist, Part One
I appreciate all the love this fic gets, I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get the next chapter up. Thank you for reading ❤️
Summary: You’ve spent years training under Madam Pomfrey in the hopes that you would join the Healers at St. Mungo’s at graduation. But in the aftermath of the death of Albus Dumbledore, you chose to join the Order instead. When you’re forced into hiding, you find yourself alone with Bill Weasley and his new wolfish tendencies.
Word Count: 3,507
Warnings: 18+, smuuuuut, fingering, unprotected sex (there won't be any suprise pregnacy, let's just pretend all witches and wizards are on birth control), jealousy, self-image issues, Bill being a cocky little shit, some dom Bill/sub reader undertones. Minors DNI.
A/N: If you requested to be on the taglist and found that you weren’t on it, it’s mostly likely because there is not an indicator on your blog that you are 18+ which is a requirement for my taglists.
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“We can discuss it more tomorrow. After he leaves.”
You’d fled left his room quickly after. 
What had you done? Why had you offered to have sex with Bill Weasley?
You knew why. 
It was Bill Weasley. One look at him explained why. But still, it was a bad idea. He was your patient. And you were technically under his protection. It was a bad idea. Really. Truly. But you couldn’t come up with an excuse convincing enough to talk yourself out of it. 
At least he won’t be in pain, you told yourself.
Sleep didn’t come easily that night, though in honesty you hadn’t slept well since that last night in Bill’s arms before Kingsley's arrival. But the tossing and turning of other nights was stilled, your eyes boring into the ceiling until the morning sun chased out the void. 
Bill was in a far better mood at breakfast. Though the conversation was far from light as Kingsley’s plans and Death Eater activity were discussed, the underlying animosity that had been a defining trait of Bill’s tone in the weeks following Kingsley’s arrival was noticeably missing. Even as he left to work, Bill’s attitude was unusually chipper.
Kingsley himself seemed in a jolly mood as you checked him over for the final time. 
“It has been very nice to get to know you better, but I have been laying in bed too long. And I wouldn’t mind a bit of payback,” he said as you jotted down the results of the diagnostic spells.
He wasn't quite as good as he had been before the attack, but he was improving. His magic worked just the same.  As far as you could tell there had been no complications of your blood mixing with his. The logical part of you knew there wouldn't be any. But years of Mudblood being mumbled from people passing you in the halls was difficult to forget. 
“Take it slow for a couple days though, okay? And don’t skip any meals and drink lots of water. If you feel even the least bit unwell or out of sorts, come straight back.”
“I’ll take care of myself. Maybe not as well as you have but," he smiled out at the ocean beyond the window as it crashed into the beach, “I have made it this far in life mostly by myself.”
The words made your heart hurt. Alastor had made it further in life, survived terrible things, yet he was gone now. Dumbledore was too. It had only taken one moment in the wrong place at the wrong time for even the most powerful and experienced wizards to be nothing but corpses. “Still, avoid the revenge plots for a week or two. Or three.”
He made no agreement to that.
The final hours of Kingsley's stay at Shell Cottage ticked by at an odd pace. There were moments that seemed to rush by as you helped him pack away what he would need. A tent Bill had pulled out of somewhere. Some defense items from Fred and George. Food. Other moments would linger unendingly. When you were alone with your thoughts and worries as Kingsley napped. Standing beneath the stream of water as every terrible thought ran through your mind. 
He could change his mind. He could have only agreed to buy himself time to let you down easier. Worse, he could have been serious. He could actually have been serious about it, but not because he wanted you. “Well not you specifically! Just the fact that you’re, you know, a person who isn’t related and, um, of the right age…”
If Bill hadn't been inflicted with his cursed wounds he would have never spared you a second glance. You weren't ugly, not by any means, but you were no Fleur. Men did not struggle to speak comprehensively in your presence. Women did not envy your very existence. You were simple. Ordinary. Pretty, but not stunning. And Bill was…extraordinary. Even with—especially with—his scars. If he had more choices, you couldn't delude yourself into believing you would make the cut. 
Those thoughts haunted you until Bill strolled in with a wide grin just before the clock read six. Kingsley was standing beside you in the kitchen watching you plate out hearty servings of shepherd’s pie. Bill's smile didn't disappear when he took in the scene, but it tightened and no longer met his eyes. 
Dinner was nothing like breakfast. Bill's gaze was searing as he sat beside you. You could feel him shift during every interaction between you and the Auror. It was like you were under observation and he did not like what he was seeing. Not that Kingsley seemed to take notice. He smiled and laughed like he was at the Burrow again, regaling a crowd of eager listeners with well practiced tales of grandiose adventure. You tried your best to follow along, but Bill was less willing to let you do so. 
At some point after the food had been finished, he’d slung an arm across the back of your chair and let his legs spread wide. Focusing on anything other than the fingers that occasionally grazed your arm or the thigh that rested lightly against yours was nearly impossible. By time the clock struck eight and Kingsley pulled his pack of supplies across his shoulder you were surprised to find yourself able to stand. 
"Take care of yourself," Kingsley said as he embraced you tightly at the door. "I am sure I shall see you again very soon." 
"Not too soon. And less bloody, please."
"I will do my best."
Bill's ears had turned a rather deep shade of crimson when Kingsley pulled away from you. You stayed behind in the kitchen to clean the last of the dishes as Bill walked him out.
The water stung as you scrubbed. Magic could have taken care of these in half the time, but the distraction was good. If you focused too much on what would happen next you were sure you would combust. Unfortunately, you ran out of dishes before you heard the pop expected of Disapparition. It made you wonder if they'd gotten lost in conversation over some Order business and if Bill had forgotten all about you. Or perhaps he was just trying to delay the time before he had to face you alone.
You shut off the water, grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands, and turned wondering if you should check in only to have your heart try to leap up your throat at the figure standing in the open doorway.
 "For Helga's sake," you huffed, hand over your chest. "I didn't hear you come in."
"He's gone," Bill said. 
"Good." You fidgeted with the towel. "We can talk."
"Talk," he said softly. The door shut loudly as he left its frame, stalking towards you. It wasn't until your back met the counter that you realized you'd been stepping back.  "I'll be bloody honest with you.” His arms were on either side to cage you in an instant. “I've spent the last twenty blasted hours thinking about how your cunt will feel wrapped around my cock—” 
The towel slipped from your hands.
“—and I don't think I'll be very intelligible until I've found out. So unless you've changed your mind, we can talk tomorrow." 
Helga help you.
He leaned in. "Have you changed your mind?"
You shook your head.
"Words, love. Use your words."
"No, sir." The words came out so low, you weren't sure they could be heard.
His forehead came to rest against yours as his eyes clenched shut. "You're going to be the death of me."
"That's sorta the opposite of what I'm trying to do," you breathed in barely more than a whisper.
His hands were on your waist, pulling himself closer. They moved slowly down your hips and back up your waist. "Is it?"
A “mmphmm” was your only response as he cupped your face. 
“Then I suppose I should kiss you before I die of curiosity.”
His lips caught yours and the world shifted. There was no air in your lungs. No beating in your heart. Nothing but his lips against yours. You had never been kissed before. Not like that. Whatever it was that you had done before couldn't even be considered anything like this. 
The moment shattered when he pulled away. A deep breath in. An almost painful hammering against your chest.
A whispered, "I'm fucked," was the last thing he said before he came crashing back. 
The calluses on his palm were rough against skin as they slid under your shirt and his tongue slipped past your lips when the feel made you gasp. It wasn't like the awkward fumblings and hesitant touches you'd experienced with Cillian, both of you still figuring it out quietly in your childhood bedroom. Bill's hands were sure of themselves as they pushed under your bra and rolled his thumbs over your nipples.
"I can already smell you." The palm of a hand flattened against your stomach and slid under the band of your pants and knickers. "Bloody hell," he said, a long finger gliding along the slick folds before plunging in, "I can just slip right in, can't I?"
You grabbed a hold of his shoulder, knees shaking beneath you. "Don't tease me," you groaned, clenching as the finger withdrew.
"This isn't teasing," he grinned, pushing it back in with a second as you squirmed. "I'll show you what teasing really is another day when I'm feeling a little more patient."
Your head fell back as his fingers worked within you like they were magic themselves. Your own had never felt this good. Nothing had ever felt this good. 
A surprised squeak escaped as his fingers retreated and you were suddenly lifted in the air and slung over his shoulders like you weighed nothing. 
“Sorry,” he said, sounding unapologetic. The soft cushions of the couch met your back as he set you down. Your jeans were undone and pulled off your legs a breath later followed by your knickers.
Instinctively, your legs tried to clamp shut to shield yourself from the hungry gaze. But Bill was faster and stronger and pried them apart. “Don’t hide from me.” The tone was stern and your legs relaxed. The blue of his eyes had darkened like the sky before a storm as he kneeled between them. His hands traveled along your thighs, over your hips, pushing the hem of your shirt up. "Take this off." It was barely over your head before he reached between you and the couch and unhooked your bra with an ease even you couldn't have accomplished.
You were hesitant to shed the last layer as the earlier worries filled your head, folding your arms to prevent the straps from falling down your arms. The dread that he'd find you as ordinary as you were pooled in your stomach.
"Why are you hiding from me?" The gentleness of his question was a stark contrast to his earlier demands. 
"I—" What could you tell him? You were scared he'd stop finding you attractive the moment he looked at your body? No. You stared at him. He was still kneeling between your spread legs. Fully clothed. "It's weird being the only one naked."
The smug satisfaction that took over his face made you wish the couch would swallow you. 
He bent forward and pressed a kiss against the your inner thigh. "Is it?" The words reverberated off your skin before he moved to the other side to repeat the kiss. "I don't recall you having a problem with it when you were the one asking me to take off my shirt for you.”
You’d only ever had him remove his shirt when you were conducting a physical. “That wa—”
“Different?” he interjected mockingly, hands finding the crease of your hips. “Why? Because you were the one in charge then?”
“I wasn’t—it was—" His grip made thoughts hard to articulate. The worries of earlier forgotten in the haze of his fingers dragging across skin. "It was a very different situation.”
His touch disappeared and the couch shifted as he straightened. "I suppose it was." You were entranced watching his fingers as he undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing a scene you'd already witnessed but never truly appreciated when the shirt was tossed to the floor. He'd gained weight since that day he'd been brought into the Hospital Wing. Slender still, but with muscles more defined. The scars were much the same having never properly healed, though they seemed to have been pulled taut across his frame.
"Because I had to sit in that bed in that room alone with you," he continued, deft fingers now working at undoing his pants, "and undress for you," he pushed them down, shifting awkwardly to pull them off his feet behind him, "and I couldn't tell you how much I wanted to fuck you."
He was left only in boxers strained nearly beyond their limits. You'd thought it had felt big, but…fuck. 
“You're drooling, love."
Your hands shot up, wiping at your mouth and allowing the bra you'd been clutching to fall away. 
It was impossible to miss the way the fabric tightened as his cock twitched. "Well ain't that a fuckin' sight." 
Then he was over you again, caging your body between his and the couch, claiming your lips. You could feel his cock pressing against you, the fabric growing damp as he ground down. The sensations were enough to get lost in as his hands began to roam. A stuttering gasp escaped as his clothed cock rubbed against your clit when his hips bucked. His lips trailed kisses to your ear as he did it again, your nails digging into his back with a whimper. 
"Gods, don't you sound desperate?" he hummed against your ear, smiling against it as his hips pulled another whimper from you. "These little noises are why I couldn't fuck you yesterday. Wanted them to be for my ears only."
Cocky fucking Gryffindor.
“Are you even going to fuck me today?” 
A dark chuckle sent vibrations through you as most of his body stilled. “If I knew you were gonna be such a brat,” one of his hands reached down and tugged his waistband, “I’d have put your mouth to better use.”
An audible smack came when his cock was freed and fell against your mound. A shiver of excitement coursed through you as he nuzzled into your neck. His hips moved back, dragging the head down over your clit and between your weeping lips. He held it there for what must have been an eternity before you whined, “Bill.”
Your hips tried to push upwards, but his hand moved to hold you firmly in place. “Yes, love?”
“Please.”
"Please what?"
Your fingers slipped through the strands of his hair and tugged until he lifted his face. "Fuck me, please."
His gaze threatened to drown you as he finally gave in to the plea and eased his cock into your eager folds. He moved slowly, your body arching with the welcome intrusion. A raspy groan of satisfaction escaped as he filled you. Your eyes fluttered at the almost painful stretch he caused.
“Gods.” He groaned, pulling out all but the tip. “Even better than I imagined.” The force of his return jolted your body, your hands gripping his biceps to brace for the next impact as his cock retreated again. "So much fucking better."
Your soft sounds of before turned high and sharp as his thrusts wrecked you. One hand held your hip and the other held his body as he leaned forward to swallow the sounds in a fevered kiss. The feeling was all consuming, each stroke a wave of pleasure that shook the ground.  It was like nothing with…
Bill drew back, his eyes following the path of his hand as it traced down your face and neck to sweep over your breasts. He continued lower until it joined his other. His mouth parted as his gaze turned to admiring how his cock sunk into you. It was a beautifully vulgar sight.
Your own admiration was rewarded with a hiss as you clenched around him. Emboldened, you did it again. The steady pace he had set faltered. 
Sharp blue eyes cut to yours, unamused. “Brat.” 
A pleased grin broke across your face and you clenched again. Rough pressure against your clit wiped it off your face a second later.
“That’s more like it,” he said as his thumb drew tight circles around the bundle of nerves. 
He found his rhythm once more despite your involuntary hold on his cock his minstraitions caused. Your hands gripped the couch as the pleasure began to roll over you in waves. "Bill," you quivered, "I think I'm—I think—"
"No need to think, love." His thrusts quickened. "Just cum on my cock for me, yeah?"
Your body willingly obliged, arching breathlessly as you were finally dragged under.
Bill cursed, his even pace once more interrupted as he felt you convulse around him. His hips continued to slam haphazardly into yours as the air returned to your lungs. Your back had barely met the couch again before you were lifted again. The haze of your orgasam left you dizzy and clinging to Bill as he moved, only realizing he had arranged himself into a seated position when he pulled you down on his cock. 
The sensations were overwhelming, his size emphasized by the position. Your mouth opened to tell him it was too much, but the words were abandoned with another kiss. His release followed a moment later with his warmth coating your cunt.
The kiss broke. You sat there, foreheads pressed together and chests heaving, for a while. 
“You okay?” His voice was hoarse. 
“Yeah.” You pulled away, remembering his condition that had led to this. “And you? How are you feeling?”
“Uhh uhh,” he chastised, “no Healer questions when you’ve got my cum leaking out of you.”
He chuckled as you slapped his shoulder. “Fine.” With reluctance, you lifted off of him and grimaced at the feeling. “Then I’m going to shower and when I come back you’re going to answer.”
For the second time that day, you stood under the blistering downpour and wondered if you’d made a mistake.
The ghost of his touch still lingered as you scrubbed, taunting. Every inch of skin tingled in anticipation for more. Cause gods, who wouldn’t want more?
Despite the full meal he’d eaten earlier, Bill’s appetite seemed to have returned with a vengeance. When you returned showered he was sitting at the table in only his boxers with the remaining half of the shepherd’s pie and wand discarded beside it. "Are you hungry?" he asked, offering you his spoon as you sat across from him. You shook your head and declined with a small wave. You watched him scoop a spoonful into his mouth. He looked glowing, almost. Relaxed in a way you'd never witnessed. 
No, that wasn't quite right. You had seen him this serene once. Laying half mutilated in a hospital bed, laughing with his sibling before he'd heard of Fleur's horrified departure. 
The sleeve of your sweater became very interesting as you began to pick at it. "So how are you feeling?"
He took his time chewing, putting the spoon down and threading his fingers together to rest his chin against. "Like I just got shagged."
You huffed.
"It's a bloody great feeling, innit? Especially remembering your face when I—"
"Bill, I'm serious." You looked up at him wearing a mask you'd perfected during the years in the Hospital Wing. "There's no point in us…shagging if it's not alleviating your symptoms."
His face dropped. “I thought you enjoyed it.” 
The hurt in his voice made you flounder. “Of course I enjoyed it. It was—fuck it was great.” You rubbed at your forehead. “But I’m your Healer. My main priority is your health. And if this is not benefiting it, then we need to start looking into other options.”
He glared, accusingly. “Other options like you leaving?”
“If you can’t tell me how you’re feeling, maybe.”
You winced watching his body tense. It felt too familiar. A scene that had been played out before.
His hands fell to the table as he leaned back in his chair. “I don’t smell him as much. His scent is still here, lingering, but it doesn't bother me. I feel—or felt—content."
"Is it because he's gone?"
His head shook.
Outside the window, the waxing moon stood proudly over the ocean. "We'll see how you feel tomorrow and run a full diagnostic. Figure out how we’ll deal with the full moon.”
The chair scraped against the floor as he stood. “Right, tomorrow then.” With a wave of his wand, the food and utensil flew back to the kitchen into their proper places. “I’m gonna head off to bed.”
“Goodnight.” You said nothing more as he climbed the stairs.
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delimeats-000 · 8 months
Text
Princess
✧ fred weasley x fem!reader ✧
summary: Ron brings home a “friend” for Bill and Fluer’s wedding, and Fred just wants to help y/n with her dress.
warnings: sexual but not quite smut
requested.
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
“You ready yet?”
“Almost!”
ron brought me as some sort of date to his older brother’s wedding.
“Are you sure it’s ok that i’m here, Ronald?”
“Yes, y/n. Mum is happy to finally meet you.”
I sigh softly.
“Listen, i’m going to head down to get some snacks and maybe that’ll relax you a bit.”, ron says holding my arms.
i nod,”Yeah, alright, thanks.”
he nods and walks away.
minutes go by, as i stand in the mirror looking to tie up my dress, i think i hear ron’s footsteps coming up the stairs.
“Hey, can you come here and tie up my dress, please.”
“Of course, princess.”
i look up, it’s fred. he looks good, just how you left him.
“Fred.”, just a simple acknowledgment, nothing more.
“Hey there.”
his dumb, smug smile. i’ve missed it.
he ties my dress.
“All done, princess.”
“Thanks.” i say quiet and frantic.
i try to put on my heels ad quick as possible. bent over and falling he grabs my waist, stopping me in my tracks.
“Look at me.” he lifts my chin with a single finger.
“Yes?”
“What’s the hurry princess? Reception’s not for an hour.”
“I need to go find Ron. He was supposed to come help me.”
“Well, Ron is busy. Luckily for you im here.”
“I’m not here for you, Freddy. Ronald invited me, not you.”
“Oh come on, princess, dont do that to me. I’m here to help you, i’m at your command.”
he moves closer, his left hand still on my waist while his right reaches to hold my head up toward him.
“Fred. You left me.”
“Im here now. I’m here for you.”
and he kisses me.
i cant help but kiss back. i can feel his hands all over me, he lifts me up and drops me onto ron’s bed. his lips sloppily kissing mine and slowly moving down to my neck. his teeth are sinking into my skin and i can feel it turning purple.
his hands are moving up under my dress. he stops.
“Tell me what you need princess.”
“Freddy.”, i say in a stern tone.
“Yes ma’am.” as he goes back to kissing me.
just as his hands reach my core…
“FRED!”
ron calls.
“Shit!”
“Shh princess, YEAH!” his pointer finger to his lips.
“COME DOWN AND HELP PUT UP THE TENT!”
“COMING!”, he looks to me, winking. “When im back, you will be too, princess.”
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i hope this was good🥲, love you🫶.
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weasleyreidstyles · 3 months
Text
Serendipity
Tumblr media
chapter sixteen
summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.
no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.
pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader
warning(s): cannonical death, violence, descriptives of battle/fighting, blood/injury mentions, brief allusions to torture, angst!
series masterlist; previous part; next part
The battle had been declared over as Professor Snape swept through the hallways, a gaggle of Death Eaters in tow. You're sat in the Hospital Wing, on a bed adjacent to where Bill Weasley lays motionless. The déjà vu of seeing Ron in his position, albeit less bloody, sends you into a spiralling orbit.
He's sat beside Hermione, who sits near the edge of your bed. He's staring between Bill's near fatal wounds and the injuries littering your own body, eyes laden with something akin to guilt. But he makes no move to approach you, content with gripping Hermione's trembling hands in his own.
After what had felt like ions of time, Ginny bursts through the door with Hagrid and a disheveled Harry in tow. Everyone in the room could see that they all had tears in their eyes.
Hermione was hugging Harry the instant she layed her eyes on him.
"Are you alright, Harry?" Remus' voice is soft and bathed in concern as he anxiously moved towards him.
"I'm fine." He said, and you can see that there is barely a scratch marring his skin. As if he hadn't even been faced with the threat of the raging battle. "How's Bill?"
No one answered his question and you avoided the scrutinising gaze that swept over you as it settled on where everyone had gathered around the eldest son's hospital bed.
Bill's handsome face was entirely unrecognisable. His skin was slashed and ripped apart with gaping wounds that Madame Pomfrey diligently attended to (you knew it was in vain). Scarily, it reminded you of Draco's harrowing wounds and a sick sense of satisfaction coarsed through you when you saw that Harry was clearly thinking the same thing.
"Can't you fix them with a charm or something?" Harry asked the matron, eyes skirting to your's briefly.
"I'm afraid no charm will work on these, dear." she replied despondently. "There is no cure for a werewolf bite."
Your eyes closed with guilt. If only you had turned the corner faster.
"But he wasn't bitten on a full moon." Ron said earnestly as he looked at his brother's marred face as if he could heal it himself with sheer willpower. "Greyback didn't look like he'd transformed. So surely he won't be a real-"
Remus squirmed under Ron's apt attention.
"No, I don't think that Bill will be a true werewolf," he said slowly, and he spares you a passing glance. "But that doesn't mean that there won't be side effects. They will likely never heal completely. Had Meadow not been where she was, he could be fully turned, or worse."
He doesn't have to voice it for everyone to know what he means. If you were not in the right place, at the right time, Bill Weasley would surmount to a name engraved on stone. Instantly you're brought back to the moment that could've been drastically different, had you not rounded the corner when you did.
Antonin Dolohov was relentless in his attack against you. From the moment the Death Eaters began littering the Astronomy corridors like an infestation, he had drawn an imaginary target on your back. He'd caught you unaware as you guarded the corridors, as instructed by Remus, who knew you wouldn't take 'no' for an answer when you'd asked him where you were needed. Dolohov had seen you there and he'd thought you were just a defensless girl who didn't know that she'd just walked head first onto a battlefield. Little did he know, you'd had experience fighting his people, had experience beating them.
He'd severely underestimated you.
"You're merely a sheep in a wolves' fight, girl. Give up now and you can go back to preening in your precious common room. I'll even show you mercy." He'd sneered at you with barely restrained fury and disgust.
So colour him surprised when his cocky taunting was met with a harsh clash of your own power, ebbing and flowing through you and your conduit like a gushing river as you snarled at him.
You'd hit each other with a mix of offensive and defensive spells, both of you sporting painful and aching injuries that gushed with blood. But you felt none of it as you pushed back against his onslaught of unforgivables with spells of your own unconscious making – wordlessly drawing from the magic surrounding you, flicking your wand; causing him to sprout all sorts of oddities, conjured from your imagination. From agonising boils to hulking antlers that caused him to stumble with the added weight that left him off kilter.
Injuries had scarcely evaded you. You knew that you would not walk away unscathed, but you were unprepared for just how bloody and battered you would be. Where you skin was once smooth and silky, littered with only the slightest of imperfections, large lacerations embedded within the tattered scraps of your clothing decorated your stomach, but you ignored the blinding pain in favour of pinning Dolohov to the wall with your power. His eyes were wide with disbelief as you wordlessly stunned him with a final strike of relentlessness.
You watched with a scary amount of glee as he crumbled unceremoniously to the floor.
Not wasting another second, you round the corner that would take you closer to the Astronomy tower; closer to the bloodshed. And that's when you see it.
Fenrir Greyback leaning over an unmoving body, teeth and claws bared for all to see, sticky blood gleaming in the low moonlight as they raise to make the final striking blow. But there's no one here. Only the three of you. You don't even think before you're acting upon instinct.
"No! Get away from them!" you scream, distracting the werewolf momentarily, enough for you to glimpse the eldest Weasley brother's disheveled form. Your stomach drops.
Greyback turns to you with a menacing growl before he's moving towards you at inhumane speed.
"Stupify!" You shout, wand pointing in Greyback's direction. A jet of strong red magic errupts from the tip of your wand, swirling with malicious intent, just barely skimming the creature's shoulder. He snarls at you with narrowed eyes full of unrestrained anger, before he lunges at you with an animalistic roar.
You barely manage to move in the opposite direction, his claws nipping at your side with a lethal grace you barely register. You cry out, but don't let the adrenaline rush, from your previous fight with Dolohov, run dry as you turn to him and push a wave of power that has him stumbling in place.
His beady eyes are zeroed in on you as your magic clashes with his sedulous blows, so he doesn't see the second body creeping on silent feet behind him, until Remus Lupin has knocked him out cold and binded him with a simple leg-locking charm.
"I thought I told you to stay in your designated corridor?" he says raggedly, staring pointedly at you as you lean heavily against the wall.
"Dolohov ambushed me. I couldn't very much stay there." You pant, holding a hand against your side as you stare at the unmoving body between you and your old professor. It's then that your gaze snaps to Bill, who's chest barely rises with a stuttering breath.
"Bill– Greyback was about to ki– to kill him. We have to help him!" You say and Remus follows your gaze, face paling exponentially as he takes in the jagged claw marks that have mutilated the man's handsome features. He sees you hyperventilate and makes the decision to abandon the battle, with you in tow, so that Bill has a fighting chance of getting back to his family and his new fiancé alive.
"We'll take him to the Hospital Wing-" he says resolutely, but at the look on your face, he says, "The battle will go on without us, Meadow. Come, can you manage?"
You nod, despite the pain that rattles you from the inside out. You feel the impenetrable steel of your mental shields cracking and remending itself as you fight to keep out the feeling of pain that was waiting to pounce on you, vision swimming in an ocean of dark spots as you push all your effort into dragging Bill's deadweighted body towards the ward.
You shrank under their gazes as they turned to you, Molly and Arthur in silent gratitude and Fleur (Bill's fiancé) had tears streaming down her perfect cheeks as she nodded gratefully at you. Harry observed your bloody and bruised state before he walked right up to your bed.
"You saved him?" he questioned you, as if he hadn't known you for six years of his life. Hadn't known that you would do anything for the people you love. You scowled at him in disbelief.
"Of course I saved him, Potter." you snap, grimacing at the pull of the wounds on your stomach. "I'm not a monster."
Most of the adults seemed surprised by the coldness that settled between the two of you. Not expecting the hostility that swirled in your eyes. Flinching at the way you spat his surname with distain. Remus' eyes were questioning and the twins exchanged looks of utter confusion as your friendship with Harry used to be so full of light.
Harry looks like he's about to respond to you but Ron's weak voice stops him in his tracks.
"Dumbledore will know something, right? Where is he?"
Ginny and Harry seem to collectively inhale before she reveals something that entirely rocks the axis of the world.
"Ron, Dumbledore is dead."
~∞~
You can't quite believe what you're hearing. Dumbledore is dead.
Dumbledore is dead.
There is a collective guffaw of disbelief as Order members waited for her to withdraw her statement, but you can see it in her eyes and in the way she opens up her mind for you to see the scene.
The downpour of the rain is perfect personification of the devastating loss that even the Earth is affected by.
Dumbledore's body lying motionless in the grass. Eyes closed, cheeks sullen and grey.
The way his limbs had naturally fallen, made it look as if he were only sleeping peacefully.
Albus Dumbledore is dead. Now there was no one to stand in the way of Voldemort's plans.
"How?" Remus' voice is is laden with sadness as he slumps into one of the visitors' chairs that littered the room. Madame Pomfrey was openly sobbing into Professor McGonagall's shoulder, as the latter stared unblinkingly at Harry, tears lining her eyes and falling silently down her cheeks.
"Snape killed him. I saw it happen." Harry said, and your eyes widened, remembering something Mattheo had said only hours ago.
"There are spies everywhere, Granger don't act so surprised."
You spare a glance towards the people that Mattheo had warned earlier that day; all wearing an expression similar to your own, one full of recognition and betrayal.
"We apparated back onto the Astronomy tower. He was weak but I think he realised it was a trap the second we righted ourselves. He immobilised me almost instantly."
He turns to you then, his face and tone of voice accusatory.
"I was under the invisibility cloak, when Malfoy came out of the shadows. He disarmed him and left him defenseless."
Your breathe hitched as Hermione clapped her hands to her mouth.
"More and more Death Eaters were arriving but Snape was the one to do it. He cast the Avada Kedavra but Malfoy was meant to do it."
Draco was sent to kill the most powerful wizard in Britain at the risk of losing his own life.
The echoing sound of sobs filled the Hospital Wing but Harry ignored them and turned his angry gaze to you.
"Did you know?" he asks you, his voice low. "Did you know that your boyfriend was a Death Eater?"
Your breath trembled as you only nodded once. The room went stale and icy, as if a tendril of cold shadows had swept through the ward. They were all looking at you with mistrust, as if you hadn't just risked your life to save one of their own.
"How long?" He was practically stood nose to nose with you, only the metal bed frame stood in his way. "How long have you known about all of them."
"Christmas." you whisper as tears collected in your waterline, the guilt of keeping this knowledge to yourself swallowing you whole. "I've known since Christmas."
"You're a disgrace. You knew this whole time, but didn't say a thing? And you still begged Dumbledore for help? Well look where that got him!" He says angrily and you flinch away as his wand hand extends towards you, but he doesn't get to do whatever it was he was going to do, because Mattheo Riddle is striding into the Hospital Wing with murder singing in his dark, onyx eyes.
"Get. The. Fuck. Away. From. Her." He snarls as he pushes Harry away from you, placing himself in front of you protectively.
Instantly, the Order members who are dotted in every crevice of the Hospital Wing are stood to attention as Mattheo and Harry stare eachother down, wands raised towards the other, ready to swarm in for the kill if Mattheo so much as harmed one hair on the Chosen One's head.
"You got Dumbledore killed." Harry hissed as he raised his steady wand hand towards Mattheo's stoic face.
"Oh? I recall our own Professor Snape performing the killing curse, Potter. You said so yourself. Yet, you did nothing to stop it." Mattheo retorts softly, his own wand hand poised for the kill, as he smirks at Harry surprised face.
You observed him from the bed you were confined to. Physically, he looked fine, not an injury in sight. But you could see it in his eyes, the horror and the guilt festering there.
He was dressed in the same clothes as earlier: jeans and a long sleeved black shirt that emphasised his impressive Beater built, except now he wore a billowing black cloak over the top of it, resembling those which the Death Eaters you'd just fought were wearing. You reach for the arm closest to you, his left one, and you caress it in a familiarly comforting way, fighting the instinctive flinch as your fingers graze the Dark Mark that has been burning against his skin since that afternoon.
"Mattheo? What are you doing here?" Your quiet voice knocks him from the staring contest, and his hard face softens as he finally takes a more thorough look of you. Your clothes are torn, dried blood splattered across the white of your shirt and his brows furrow as onyx eyes roam over your bandaged stomach.
"I tried to reach you." He said in a low voice that betrays the panic he had felt every time he attempted to breech your impenetrable walls. "But you weren't there."
He sounds relieved to know that you were okay. That although injured, you were alive.
"I thought you'd be impressed." You say with a light laugh that doesn't reach your eyes. "I finally managed to block you out without so much as a trace."
His own responding laughter is small and barely heard as he sits on the edge of your bed, ignoring the looks and the glares being sent his way as he takes your face into both of his calloused hands, cradling your jaw with a tenderness that has your heart weeping in your chest. His eyes dart between your own.
"I would be bursting with pride if I hadn't been so worried. I thought you could be dead, love."
His eyes were downcast and there was a sheen of brimming tears reflecting in their onyx depths. Your hand went to cradle his own cheek and he smiled as your fingers gently grazed his under eye.
Your bubble of solitude is popped when the Order members closest to you move to grab him while he was distracted and unaware.
"What are you doing?" You snap at Tonks, who moves away from you with arms raised in surrender, eyes wide as they take a step away from you.
"He's the enemy, Miss Meadow." Mad-Eye sneers at you, but you only form a barrier of indigo around the two of you, that none of them can penetrate without being burned.
"He's quite literally the devil's spawn." Another member, that you don't know the name of, says callously and you thrown her a look of malice.
"And I wonder who tipped you off before the battle even began?" You retort with an air of sarcasm that has the woman rolling her eyes at you.
Looking between the Order members surrounding you, among that annoyingly blank faces, Remus' expression surprises you the most. He looks like he's seen a ghost. Face pale and eyes wide as he stares from Mattheo to you, and back again. He's the only one in the room who looks like he vaguely understands.
"The reason I asked Dumbledore for help was because I thought he would give them sanctuary. They can't escape their families or their fate but I tried. I didn't want to see them dead." You say, words catching in your throat as a sob crawls its way to the surface. Immediately, Mattheo has you wrapped in an embrace; it's awkward and a little unconventional since he's trying not to disturb your wounds, but it's a comfort nonetheless.
Remus' understanding eyes are suddenly awash with sorrow.
"So you're saying that he got the Order to help? Riddle gave us the upper hand?" Ron sounds like he doesn't believe a word you're saying and you don't blame him, not really.
"Yes. He did." Hermione replied and everyone turns to her incredulously. "He came over to us earlier this afternoon and when I told him that Dumbledore wasn't here, he sounded genuinely alarmed."
Heads swivel back and forth between where Mattheo is sat nonchalantly and where Hermione sits. Some Order members were baffled that Hermione was willingly defending someone like him.
"I-it's true." Neville reaffirms and Luna and Ginny both nod. "I didn't quite know what to think of it. But it gave you all the advantage, didn't it?"
"We outnumbered them three to one." Tonks mused as they looked at you with newly formed consideration.
"Yes. They seemed genuinely surprised that we were already waiting for them." Remus muses and steps towards your bed, but pauses at the heat coming defensively off of the barrier that still sang malevolently between you and the Order.
"I've never liked my father's agenda. But he'd kill me and my family if I disobeyed him. The sole purpose of our friendship," Mattheo motions between the two of you, "was for the benefit of them, not me."
"Why would the friendship be mutually beneficial?" Mad-Eye prompts. He still looks untrusting of Mattheo, his voice laden with suspicion.
The two of you share a look of understanding. One that transcends levels that not one person in that room could comprehend.
He's been teaching me Legillimency.
None of the Order members flinch when you enter their minds, being adequately trained in the ability. But Remus is impressed by your level of control and skill as you talk to all of them at once, a small smile gracing his previously sullen face.
"There has to be more." Harry mumbled to himself as he paces. "What of your abilities?" He asks you and he motions towards the indigo energy field that has begun slowly dissipating as the Order members backed off inch by inch.
Mattheo squeezes your interlinked hands and you turn to smile up at him, but he's not looking at you. He's looking between all adults in the room, before settling his eyes on Remus.
"We suspected for a while that Meadow was different." He says and you startle.
What? You ask him wordlessly, incredulity spreading across your features. He still won't look at you, the only response is a tighter grip of your hand. You feel his regret cling to you like a second skin.
"I noticed that she was learning Legillimency early on in fifth year." At the looks of distrust, he clarified. "I'm particularly sensitive to Occlimency. People's thoughts are loud in my head, constantly."
The ability was practically tortured into me. He said that to you, and to you alone.
You squeeze his hand in your's, providing comfort even in the midst of wanting the answers for yourself.
"I also suspected that she had siphon-like abilities around the same time after seeing her excel with wandless and non-verbal magic with ease that only few people possess." He says, turning towards you. He fights the urge to press away the frown on your face with a kiss. He knows that what he's about to confess may destroy any of the trust he had built with you, but you deserve the truth.
Even if it costs him everything.
"When Theo told me that you were his patrol partner last year, I knew that I had a golden opportunity. So I told him to befriend you." He says, his voice low and hoarse, and he hates the way your hand loosens in his hold. "He hated the idea at first because of your affiliation with Potter, and he was only cordial out of obligation. But then something changed. He said that you were kind to him, despite his reluctance. Compassionate and understanding. You listened when he ranted about his father and you were a friend in a time he really needed it. I never wanted any of them to be a part of this, so I told him that I had a plan of sorts to get them all out.
Since the beginning of the year, under the guise of tutor sessions, I've helped her strengthen her ability as a Legillimens in the hopes that if my father ever discovered her abilities, that she would not submit to his mind control and torture. But it was also selfishly in hopes of discovering, for myself, if I was right."
"So the whole time we were searching for answers," you say in a whisper, but he heard the betrayal lacing your tone as if you'd screamed at him, "you knew the whole time? All of you?"
"Yes and I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you, sweetheart. So deeply sorry." He says quietly, his onyx eyes big and wide with the hope that you would show him forgiveness.
"What will your father do if he finds out about me?" You ask, but it's Arthur Weasley who speaks up for the first time since you all entered the Hospital Wing.
"I suspect that, if Dumbledore knew of your powers, that he also knows. It's only a matter of if he knows who you are." His words cut deep, and the look that Mad-Eye gives him tells you that he might have said something he shouldn't.
"Hold on? You all knew?" Harry asks incredulously, and you can't help but agree with your estranged friend. You look around at the adults who look between eachother with wide, panicking eyes.
"Dumbledore mentioned it in a meeting shortly after Katie was cursed." George mumbled, avoiding your scrutinising eye contact. "He'd been keeping a close eye on you. So has Snape."
Harry's attention snaps to George.
"So Voldemort probably already knows about her then."
"That stupid old man doesn't know anything." Mattheo snapped, his knuckles going white with how hard they're clenched shut. "I've made sure of it."
"How?" Remus asks softly, moving closer so that he can sit on the bed beside your's now that your display of magical power had dissipated, putting himself between the Order and Mattheo in the process.
"I knew of his return at the same time as all of you. This-" he lifts the sleeve of his robe up and you reach for his clenching hand instinctively as there are collective gasps of horror echoing around the room. You can't believe he's willingly displaying it.
"Théo-" What are you doing? You prepared to snap at anyone who dared harm him as his sleeve brushes inflamed skin.
Gaining their trust. Or attempting to, at least. By being honest.
The Dark Mark is surrounded by irritated skin where it is inked onto his forearm. The fresh scars melting into the old ones. But the mark is unaffected, twisting and curling as if laughing at his attempts to relinquish it from his body.
"This started to burn as soon as Pettigrew threw him into the cauldron in that graveyard two years ago." Mattheo continues, only locking eyes with you now.
"How do you know about that?" Harry asks with skepicism and Mattheo turns towards him. "You weren't there that night."
"No but my father showed me his rebirth, right after he greeted me, for the first time in fourteen years, by seeing how long I could withstand the cruciatus curse."
"But how is this relevant?" one Order member asks and you fight a snarl from reaching your lips as Mattheo pushes his sleeve down, concealing the Mark from view.
"He knows that there is a siphon in your ranks." He says and he mentally soothes you as you flinch at his words. "But he thinks it's a senior member. He would never suspect a sixth year to harbour so much power. We're not meant to harness that sort of skill yet."
"And how have you been preventing him from finding out?" that same Order member from before sneers and you wandlessly throw up a wall of indigo that has the man bouncing back as he steps forward a little too harshly.
You know without him having to verbalise it. Know what lengths he went to, to protect you and his family. You want to cry, with him and for him and all that he has endured.
"Did you not listen to a word he just said?" You snap at the man, who cowers under the glowing indigo of your gaze. Mattheo's presence is the only thing tethering you to sanity right now.
"The important thing," Remus says, interrupting the tense atmosphere. "Is that he does not know about Meadow. We must keep it that way."
Mattheo nods at his old professor and you can see in his glazed over eyes that they are having a wordless conversation.
She can detect horcruxes, can't she? Remus asks and Mattheo's imperceptive nod gives him the answer he needs.
"I just have one question." Fred speaks up after a lull of uncomfortable silence overtook the ward. He looks deep in thought and there's an undercurrent of curiousity in the way his cerulean eyes dart from you to Mattheo.
"Are you in love with her?"
You expected Fred to be full of jealousy, considering you had been attached at the hip in the previous year. But instead, there's only understanding in the older twin's eyes. Mattheo must see it too, because he doesn't utter a snarky reply like you expect and Fred nods with what you think is approval, at his response.
"Yes. Irrevocably and undeniably."
Your heart flutters in your chest as your cheeks flush at the admission.
You had known for a while. But neither of you had voiced those three words in fear that everything would come crashing down around you. Still, you can feel it deep in your soul as his words settle in your chest.
He loves you. Irrevocably and undeniably, he loves you.
He had been under the impression that he'd inherited his father's curse. Never being able to fall in love. But his mother must live on in him somehow. Because he can feel it like it's a separate entity attaching itself to his heart by a thread that had been slowly stitching it together overtime.
Although many of your friends are looking at him in a new light, even Ron who finds himself squeezing Hermione's still trembling hands with his own, the people in that room did not trust the Riddle heir; many were wary of the Dark Mark that marred his skin like a deathly omen. But Remus can see the ghost of another in the way Mattheo acts and he knows that Regulus Black would be proud of what Mattheo has been doing right under his father's watchful eye.
He can only hope that you remain hidden in plain sight, long enough to give them a fighting chance.
For now, he has decided that he needs to cash in an age old favour from the one person he is certain can help your friends; Andromeda Tonks was more than happy to help.
~∞~
i changed the way i approached the ending so many times lol
we're about to delve into very war-time centric chapters now (fair warning, its gonna get angsty and a little dark very quickly)
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372 notes · View notes
daily-hayley568 · 2 years
Note
could you write a charlie weasley imagine where the reader is the twins best friend and dating charlie in secret and sneaking around together around the holidays/birthdays where the family is all together including her because she’s like family (like harry and hermione)💖
Some Things Are Better Kept Secret|Charlie Weasley
Pairings: Charlie Weasley x fem!reader, platonic Fred weasley x fem!reader, platonic George x fem!reader, dad!sirius x daughter!reader
A/n: I love this! Tysm anon!
Summary: You’ve always been best friends with the twins but their older brother caught your eye.
Warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual content, kissing, use of pet names, age gap, forbidden curses, mentions of death, blood
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You had been best friends with the Weasley twins since your first year in Hogwarts. You were sorted into Gryffindor and you were inseparable from Fred and George.
Fred and George planned pranksters. You would charm their victims and lead them into the trap. You all tag-teamed.
The first Christmas you spent with the Weasley’s was your second year Christmas break. Your mother was out of town with her friend and you mentioned that you would be staying at Hogwarts but your two best friends couldn’t have it. They owled their parents and Mrs. Weasley insisted you came to their Christmas. Said she heard so much about the girl who the twins loved.
When you rode the train you sat in the compartment with the twins, and Lee Jordan. Four kids in a compartment playing exploding snap all the way to the train station.
When you arrived at the Burrow, you were attacked by Ron and Ginny, the younger ones. They were so excited to meet the girl that Fred and George couldn’t shut up about.
“Fred talks about you all the time. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You looked up at the older boy. You knew him as the Gryffindor seeker. It was Charlie Weasley; and he was much more handsome closer then the distance from the pitch.
You swallowed quickly before taking his offered hand in the shake, you rose your eyebrows smirking at Fred and George. “You can’t shut up about me. How sweet.”
Fred rolled his eyes, “You’ve been mentioned.”
You giggled, releasing your hand from Charlie’s. Realistically you were still a kid and he was almost a full grown man, but you couldn’t help but swoon.
You thought that childhood crush would go away, but it never did.
You were now about to start your fifth year. You were once again at the Burrow for Ginny’s birthday party. When Ginny invited you, you were so excited to see the Weasley’s before school started in September. You knew that they were going to Egypt, so you would be separated from your best friends.
Ginny was going into her second year at Hogwarts; Ron, Harry, and Hermione were going into their third, and Percy had recent news of becoming Head Boy.
“Happy birthday, Ginny!” You smiled entering her room.
“Y/N! You’re here!” Ginny ran up to you pulling into a huge hug. You and Ginny had become even closer after the encounter with Tom Riddle.
You smiled when Fred peaked from behind you, “Didn’t even say hi to your best friends?”
“I said hi to Ginny?” You tilted your head, a mischievous glint in your eye.
Fred hit you upside the head, you chuckled elbowing him. “Where’s my favorite twin? George! There you are.” You squeezed past Fred hugging George.
“Hi, Y/N! I think everyone’s about here now.” George grinned.
You turned reluctantly giving a hug to Fred; who was pouting from receiving no love from his best friend.
You four went downstairs to find the trio; Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They were speaking with Bill and Charlie. Fred elbowed you and you hit him upside the head.
“Y/n!” Harry sprinted to you embracing you. You took it as your duty to keep Harry Potter under your wing. You were like his older sister. You never told him his godfather was your dad, or mentioned that he was in Azkaban.
“Heya, Harry.” You grinned.
Ron and Hermione waved. Bill hugged you and Charlie smiled with a wave, not without noticing a new scar on his arm.
At Ginny’s birthday party, you were sitting on the porch watching your friends play a game.
“You don’t want to join them?” You glanced up at Charlie Weasley taking a seat next to you on the step.
You shook your head, “It was a long travel.”
“I agree, apparating from Romania to here was a lot.”
“I’m sure it was. How are your dragons?”
You had never had a conversation with one-on-one with Charlie Weasley and your butterflies were erupting in your stomach. You wanted to choke them all out one by one.
Oh, Godric. His smile was so pretty, “They’re good. A new baby girl was hatched right before I left; Hungarian Horntail.”
“So many people are scared of those dragons; I know they’re much larger than other breeds and their fireballs are longer distance, but I think they can be cute creatures. People are scared of something that’s territorial and bigger than they are.”
Charlie Weasley rose his eyebrows. He didn’t know you knew so much about dragons, “Woah you’re like a dragon expert yourself.” He chuckled nudging you with his arm.
Your arm in return erupted in goosebumps over the ghost of his touch. Gotta get yourself together; your best friends brother? Really, Y/N.
Your thoughts scolded you. You ignored them anyway and decided to listen to Charlie instead of your angry thoughts and your drumming butterflies.
“I wouldn’t say that. I like reading about animals or just reading general, but I have taken an interest to dragons.”
“Maybe I could show you the reserve sometime.” Your face lit up.
“Yeah, maybe.”
You didn’t see Charlie again until that next Christmas. You couldn’t wait either. You begged Remus and your mum to let you stay for the holidays again. Of course they agreed.
At Christmas dinner, you were squeezed between Fred and George. You encouraged them to give the Marauders Map to Harry; leaving out his dad was Prongs himself.
Charlie sat across from you and you both talked about quidditch and dragons again. He told you about how the baby dragon from Ginny’s birthday was doing and you were so entranced with him, you didn’t even hear George asking if you wanted to play quidditch outside.
The twins shrugged and left you to talk with their older brother. You two were left alone before you realized you should head to bed.
“Would you mind if I owled you to ask on how Roxie is doing?” Roxie was the name of the new baby dragon.
“No! It’d be a pleasure to receive letters about dragons and not my mother scolding me from being too far from home.” You giggled shaking your head.
“Goodnight, Charlie.”
“Goodnight Y/N.”
You never told Fred and George you sent letters to Charlie through the rest of fifth year. Remus and your mum knew of course, you couldn’t shut up about Charlie to them. That’s how you and Charlie became good friends.
Then at the end of your fifth year, you were reunited with your father and Harry’s godfather. Harry thought he had been a murderer when he was out, but you knew your dad was innocent. Stories from your mother and Remus made you a firm believer that he was framed. Remus and your mum argued a lot about letting Dumbledore know he was an animagus, of course your mum won that fight.
You loved watching your mum and dad reunite. It was the favorite thing you saw that summer.
You attended the quidditch World Cup with the Weasley’s added Hermione and Harry. You shook your head when your best friends decided to bet all your money.
Worried, but you had full faith in them.
Charlie was there and you gave each small looks. You just turned 17 a few weeks ago. He said he was staying around a bit longer for something he needed to do. You had no idea what.
At the World Cup you and Charlie ended up sitting next to each other on the end. Fred and George were on the other end.
“Who do you think is going to win?” Charlie leaned over to talk in your ear.
You shivered your brain thinking of other times Charlie could be whispering in your ear.
“Ireland. It’s got to be.”
“I agree.” Another dazzling smile from Charlie Weasley himself.
After Ireland won, you and Charlie grinned fist bumping each other. Back at the tent, everyone stayed up for awhile. Arthur rushed everyone to bed after Ginny fell asleep on the table. You and Charlie had slipped out the tent sitting next to each other watching the Irish celebrate their victory.
“You know, I thought you were going to be as annoying as George and Fred are. Then I met you and I was totally wrong.”
“Thanks, though I do cause a lot of trouble with them.”
Over the course of the letters, you and Charlie were now close friends. You still had a raging crush on the boy. His light, platonic touches drove you crazy.
The Weasley family knew about Sirius’ innocence but you told Charlie first. Something ate at you about telling your best friends first, but it was Charlie who you ran to.
“That I also noticed,” Charlie chuckled.
You smiled, “Well I should head to bed. Goodnight Charlie.”
“Night, Love.” You froze at the pet name at the entrance of the tent but you let yourself smile brightly heading into the girl tent.
You knew you didn’t sleep for long when Charlie was shaking you awake, calling your name. You were confused as he pulled you out of tent as you struggled to put your nightrobe on.
“Charlie, what’s going on?”
“Death eaters.”
Your eyes widened as you met everyone in the living room. Fred and George were to take care of Ginny and you were to take care of Harry. Ron and Hermione and you two were to stick together.
Before Charlie took off you both shared a look of stay safe.
You took off with the crowd holding onto Harry’s arm trying to run to the gate, but you both fell getting trampled, becoming unconscious.
When you and Harry woke up, the tents were burned and Harry was stirring beside you. You saw a man and your breath was hesitant, but Harry didn’t.
“Black are you okay?” Harry muttered. The worst time to call each other by last names.
The strange man called the dark mark and you took in a sharp breath but after Harry spoke loud enough the man looked at you both. He ran off.
That’s when you heard a bunch of popping and surrounded by Ministry men. “You’ve be discovered at the scene of the crime!” Barty Crouch shouted.
Barty held a wand to your throat. Arthur came to your rescue. “She’s just a girl!”
“So? She’s Sirius Black’s daughter. He probably sent her to do this himself! Where’s your tent, Arthur.”
Arthur opened up the tent and the rest of the group shot up seeing Harry enter.
“Where’s Y/N?” George asked him and his twin worried sick. Thought he didn’t voice it, Charlie was too. Harry looked at his shoes not responding.
“Get in there!” Barty Crouch shoved you onto the couch.
“What’s going on?” Charlie asked; you looked frustrated.
“Y/N Black was discovered at the scene of the crime! She conjured the dark mark.” Barty accused.
“I didn’t! You can’t arrest me because of my relations? What about you? Your son?” You asked tilting your head and Barty gasped.
“How do you know about that?”
“My father.” You spat. “Check my wand. Check Harry’s wand. I. Didn’t. Cast. It.” Barty took both of your wands and checked it. You both didn’t cast the spell.
“Sorry for the inconvenience.” Barty muttered.
After all that, you were lying in bed and couldn’t sleep. So you walked to a room you knew you could find rest in.
Charlie was still awake when you walked in. “Can I sleep with you? I just-“ you swallowed, your voice small. I cant sleep and I’m scared, Charlie.”
Charlie opened his arms and you climbed on into the bed cuddling in his arms, “What you did was pretty badass.” You giggled.
“Well, I didn’t want to go to Azkaban.”
He grinned, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. You fell asleep much easier with your head on his chest and him playing with your hair.
That night passed, and you were back at Hogwarts with your best friends. After the first years were sorted , the triwizard tournament was announced. Luckily, you turned 17 last June. You stuck your tongue out at the twins because they didn’t reach the age limit.
You decided why not and you entered the tournament.
Charlie Weasley apparently got wind that you one of the four champions. He was so pissed. You two had never even had an argument until now. He told you that you were just a kid and shouldn’t be doing the dangers that was coming for you.
You were furious. He thought of you as a kid? You didn’t write back for the next month. The four champions were as listed: Y/N Black, Harry Potter, Victor Krum, and Fleur Delacour.
The first task is when you saw Charlie again. You didn’t even look at him. You got the Swedish short-snout. Luckily you knew a lot about this dragon, and the Hungarian Horntail so you gave Harry tips when no one was paying attention.
Before it was your turn, Charlie dragged you privately.
“You’re crazy.”
“Thought I was just a kid.” You hugged. Charlie sighed running a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry. You’re not a kid. You’re too strong. I was just angry when I wrote that. I just worry about you a lot.” He sighed rubbing a hand up and down your arm.
“Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I do what it takes to win.”
“Y/n one more thing.” You rose your eyebrows, “I want you to know-“ the cannon shouted and they screamed Black. It was your turn.
Without another word, you ran off to fight your dragon.
You tied first with Harry.
Charlie returned to Romania and you didn’t see him until Christmas. You were getting ready for the third task; you and Harry still tied. You joked about winning this thing together and it seemed possible.
At Christmas, you found yourself alone with Charlie after everyone had gone to bed. You both were sipping tea and just talking. “Have you ever tried firewhiskey?”
You shook your head and Charlie left before bringing back a bottle of it. He poured you and himself a glass. You took a sip letting the warm feeling travel down your throat. “Delicious.”
He chuckled, “Are you worried about the third task?”
You shook your head, “I’ve got Harry. I don’t care if I win.”
He smiled, continuing to sip his whiskey. Maybe you two drank too much. But Charlie ended up kissing you and you kissing him back. He mumbled something about tired dancing around stuff.
You were on the couch, his mouth on yours in a kiss of passion and heat. He slipped his tongue in your mouth and you moaned into his. He chuckled pulling back with a wide grin.
You and Charlie began to sneak around after that. The rest of the holidays ended up with kisses on the couch. You never talked about it after you went back to Hogwarts.
It was time for the third task. You and Harry decided to grab the cup together and it was a portkey. You were taken to a graveyard. You were left unconscious next to the trophy and Harry groaned getting up.
He noticed the grave that read tom riddle on it. He needed to get out of here. Before he could grab you and the key. Wormtail casted a spell to keep him bound to the tree.
He dropped Voldemort in a boiling cauldron, cut his arm off, sliced Harry’s for blood. Voldemort was back.
You were still unconscious when Voldemort talked to Harry.
Voldemort touched Harry’s scar before he noticed you. He kicked you and you let out a groan, stirring. Harry prayed that Voldemort would leave you alone.
“She’s important to you. I can tell.” The noseless man said to the scar boy. “Crucio!” Right as you began to stand you were back on the ground writing in pain, screaming in agony. It felt like needles were being plunged into your skin. Then he released the spell, you could breathe again.
Wrong. “Crucio!” He screamed again and that was the torture. Thinking that it was over but it wasn’t.
You couldn’t stand the pain and you were losing consciousness. Then it all stopped. Were you dead? No. You could hear Harry. Harry was fighting him. Next thing you knew you were back at the stadium, crying to be let go of. You didn’t know who was touching you.
There was cheering but it suddenly stopped when Harry was crying over your body. Your mum and Remus leaped out of the stands running towards you followed by the Weasley kids who were attending Hogwarts.
“Y/N?” George or Fred whispered, you couldn’t tell.
You blinked your eyes open tears spilling, “Harry.” You rasped holding onto his arm. He was sobbing. “It hurts.”
“I know it does, Sis. You got to stay with me your the closest family I have! Y/N!” Charlie was now at your side stroking your hair.
“Are you crying, Charles?” You whispered. “I told I’d win.” You tried to grin but it was more of a grimace.
“I told you to be safe too.” Charlie muttered.
Dumbledore finally arrived with mad-eye moody. “Harry what happened?”
“Voldemort!” He cried, “he’s.. he’s back. He could tell we were close somehow and just started Crucio after Crucio. She went through so many! I thought.. I thought she was dead.” The poor boy was heartbroken at the fact he could’ve lost his sister tonight. Charlie scooped you up and carried you to the hospital wing.
After a couple days of rest, you woke up feeling less painful and Charlie was sitting there. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, since you’re here.” He rolled his eyes with a smile.
“You scared me. I thought you were going to die without me telling you something because I was too afraid too.”
“What’s that?”
“What if you died before I told you I was in love with you?” He whispered grasping your hand.
“Well if I was dead I wouldn’t be able to tell you I’m in love with you too.” He grinned kissing your lips, lightly. He was scared of hurting you.
That summer you, mum, and Remus moved to the Grimmauld Place.
“Dad!”
“Buttercup!” You ran into your fathers embrace with a giddy smile. You hadn’t seen him in a good while. He visited you when you were sick but now you got to live with him.
You had just turned 18. You were secretly dating Charlie Weasley and you got to move in with your dad. Best year ever!
The Weasley’s also moved in and you, Fred, and George worked on their products. You and Harry gave your winnings to the twins so they could do their joke shop.
Charlie was there for the summer too. You were of age so you got to join the Order. During those meetings you sat beside Charlie. He had his hand on your thigh and you played his fingers in his lap.
It was subtle, no one could tell. Except Sirius, he loved to tease you about him.
Late nights was included Charlie in your room full of cuddles, kisses and your favorites. You always made sure to lock the door so no one saw you and Charlie and entangled limbs.
Your secret was falling apart. Or you two just didn’t care. You brought up to the twins what if you and Charlie went places and they said they didn’t mind. Though one morning you did forget to lock the door.
“Y/N!” You shot awake off Charlie’s chest. George was holding an order form. “Charlie?”
Eyes wide you turned to Charlie who was smirking and starting to lean against the headboard. He brought you on his lap. “Meet my girlfriend.”
“No. Fucking. Way.”
——-
2K notes · View notes
george-weasleys-girl · 4 months
Text
Second Chance Soulmate Pt.1
Season of Love Event
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George Weasley x fem!reader
Warnings: brief mention of sex
Summary: After his failed marriage, George meets someone new.
*I'm cheating a little with this one, blending this week's trope (meeting soulmate after a failed marriage) and next week's (single dad!George)
~•~
When George put that ring on his finger, he thought it'd be forever.
Turns out, he was wrong.
He learned the hard way that not every love lasts forever.
~•~
"Hey, Daddy," said the little girl with the fiery red hair. "Are you going on a date with Miss Y/L/N while I'm at Mummy's this weekend?"
George raised an eyebrow at his precocious daughter. She doesn't miss a thing, that one. "Did Uncle Fred tell you that?"
"Nope! Figured it out all by myself," she said, jutting her chin out proudly.
"Did you, now?" George grinned and pulled her onto his lap. "And how did you manage that?"
"I saw you talking to her a few days ago, and you looked really happy. And then," she pulled a crumpled piece of parchment out of her pocket. "You left your list of restaurants on the table last night."
"Hey! I've been looking for that - " he started, but his daughter continued on as if he'd said nothing. "These are all nice," she said, matter-of-factly. "But I think you should take her to our favorite pizza place."
"Romano's?" George asked, thinking of the little family run place that they went to once a week. "It's not very fancy."
"So? You should take her anyway. If she likes our favorite restaurant, then she's a keeper."
"You think so, Mira?" He appraised his young daughter.
"I know so," she said, then hopped off his lap and skipped off to her bedroom.
He shook his head as he watched her scamper off, then leaned back with a sigh. It'd been years since he'd gone on a date, and it showed. He'd asked Fred for advice. And Ron. And Bill. And Ginny. And now he was seriously considering his seven year old's well-meant, but terribly naive suggestion.
"If all it took was liking the same pizza place," he mummered to himself.
~•~
George met Carlee at Hogwarts. He knew on their very first date that she was the one.
And she was. Until, one day... she wasn't.
The cracks began to form a couple of years into their marriage. Little quirks that once endeared them to each other now irritated them. They argued a little more. And had sex a little less. George wrote it off as both of them having busy, successful careers. Nothing more.
Then their daughter, Mira, was born. And for a while, their relationship thrived. Everything was like it once was.
For a while anyway. Then, it all fell apart.
Looking back, George realized Mira was the glue that held their marriage together for so long. If she hadn't been born, the divorce would've probably happened years earlier.
"I don't know how everything went so wrong," he'd told Fred over a bottle of firewhiskey one night. "Me and Carlee used to be inseparable. Now, we can barely be in the same room together without one of us starting an argument," he took a swig of whiskey. "Hell, I can't even remember the last time we had sex."
Fred shrugged. "Don't know what to tell you, mate," he said with a sigh. "Sometimes, people just fall out of love with each other."
George fiddled with his wedding band. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm beginning to think it might be best to go our separate ways." He grew quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting out the window. "I just hate the thought of Mira coming from a broken home."
"I'd say it's already broken," Fred pointed out. "And besides, it's better than her living with parents who are at each other's throats all the time."
George sighed. "Yeah... I suppose you're right," he agreed, pouring himself another round.
~•~
Less than six months later, shortly after Mira's fifth birthday, he and Carlee signed the divorce papers.
And it was all over.
The marriage.
The dream.
Everything.
The only good thing to come out of that relationship, George surmised, was currently in her bedroom singing to herself and playing with her legion of stuffies.
~•~
Two Years After the Divorce
"Once Upon A Story," George read the name of the new bookshop that had opened up two doors down from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Its arrival had caused quite the stir. For nearly six centuries, Flourish and Blotts was the only bookstore on Diagon Alley, managing to quickly snuff out any and all competition.
But this bookshop was different. It wasn't trying to compete with the old stalwart. Quite the opposite, actually. It specialized in the one thing that Flourish and Blotts severely lacked.
Children's books.
"C'mon, Daddy!" Mira tugged at his arm. "Let’s go in!"
George chuckled and opened the door, stepping into pure chaos. "Sure you don't want to come back later?" He teased, taking in the roiling hordes of kids.
Mira ignored him and looked around, then grabbed his hand, pulling him through the crowd. "Look, Daddy! It's Uncle Charlie's dragon book!" She held up the book written by George's older brother. Charlie had originally written it to give as Christmas gifts for his nieces and nephews. But Percy was so impressed with it that he passed a copy on to a publisher friend of his. One thing led to another, and it soon became the definitive dragon guide for children in the magical world.
"Can we get one?" She asked.
"You already have the one Uncle Charlie gave you," George grinned. "It's one of the originals, you know."
"I know that," his daughter huffed. "But I can take this one to mummy's. I won't care if it gets lost."
"Alright, then," George grinned, thumbing through the small tome.
"I see someone likes dragons," a melodious voice piped up behind George. He turned around to find himself standing before the sun in human form.
"I -um... " He stammered, but Mira stepped in front of him. "My uncle wrote it."
"Your uncle?" The sunbeam replied, eyebrows raised.
"My brother," George attempted to clarify. "Charlie. He wrote it."
"Really? Well, how exciting!" The sunbeam extended her hand. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N."
"You're the owner!" Mira hopped up and down. "I saw your name on the sign outside!"
"That would be me," Y/N smiled down at the little girl. "And I presume you are... "
"A Weasley," George said proudly. "This is Mira. And I'm George."
"Pleased to meet you both," the bookseller said, then turned her attention to George. "You own the joke shop, right? With your twin brother?"
"Yep. Fred and I- " the younger twin began but was interrupted by his daughter's giggling.
"Are you two going to hold hands all day?" She asked and pointed at their still clasped hands.
"Oh!" Y/N and George said in unison and quickly pulled their hands apart, both looking down to hide the heat rising in their cheeks.
"Do you have any more books about dragons?" Mira plowed on, completely oblivious.
Y/N, relieved for the distraction, turned her full attention back to George's daughter. "A few," she said and leaned down, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But none as good as your uncle's."
~•~
~•~
Part Two
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