#george weasley reader insert

[acciotwinz]

George Weasley Blurb

The waiting room is St. Mungo’s is bleary and cold. It makes George feel as if his heart is about to jump out of his chest. The bare, white walls assault his senses, making time stop still. George watches catatonically as staff and visitors walk down the hall. When is it going to be his turn? When will he be able to see his wife?

Your wife has been in an accident.

George had stopped listening the minute the words had left the Auror’s lips yet those seven words keep replaying in his mind. Over and over again. He was lucky that Fred was there. Lucky that his twin is always by his side, to hold him up when his legs won’t cooperate. He hopes that Fred had enough sense to get the whole story about what happened before he Apparated the two of them to St. Mungo’s but that’s for future George to deal with. Right now, all he wants is to see Y/N. 

He feels like he’s been seated in the uncomfortable plastic chair for days; he’s vaguely aware that Fred has left to get food and explain what is happening to their parents and possibly even Y/N’s. George feels like he’s falling apart at the seams. 

Fred returns with water, tea and snacks that George knows he won’t be able to eat without them coming back up instantly. 

“It’s going to be okay, Georgie.”

“You don’t know that,” his voice is broken, just like his heart. “What if the damage is too much?” Fred squeezes his shoulder and tucks him into his side. “Y/N is stronger and a fighter. She’s going to be okay.”

The brothers spend the next hour sitting quietly pressed against one another, sipping on the now lukewarm tea. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, a healer stops in front of them. 

“Mr. Weasley?”

“Yes?!” they respond simultaneously.

The healer looks between them and sighs, “Sorry, I’m looking for Y/N’s husband.”

George stands on shaky legs, “That would be me.”

The man smiles at him and something releases inside George’s chest. “Your wife is fine, just resting. It looked a lot worse than it actually was. She’s already been discharged but we’d like to see her again in a few days and please make sure she gets plenty of rest. If anything seems off, bring her back in, alright?”

George doesn’t know what he answers or how he managed to find Y/N’s room but the next thing he’s aware of, is having his wife in his arms. “Don’t ever scare me like that again!” His voice is muffled by her hair and the familiar scent opens the floods.

Y/N holds on to him just as tightly, taking comfort in the familiar feeling of her husband’s arms around her body. “I will do my absolute best.”

George pulls back, cupping her face in his large hands and strokes her cheeks with his thumbs. His eyes rove across her face, never stopping on one feature too long to ensure that she’s really okay. “What do you say we go home and get some rest?”

Y/N nods, turning her head to the side to kiss his palm. “Sounds great, love.”

George hugs her one more time, holding on for a few moments and then takes her hand as they head home.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #JJ writes #JJ gets back into writing #harry potter fic #harry potter reader insert #george wealsey x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #george weasley blurb #george weasely x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley imagine #harry potter reader insert fanfiction #george weasley reader insert #golden trio era fic

[gigicreates562]

The Bet- Fred Weasley x Reader

Y/n bets Fred that she can get him to admit his jealousy before the end of the week. It does not go how either of them planned. 

TW: none

Word Count: 2,900

--------------------

“You’re an idiot” George stated plainly.

“Hang on- what have I done already? It’s only 9 in the morning” Fred retorted.

“The bet”

“Godric, she works quickly. How does everyone know already?”

“Because you’ve gone absolutely mental thinking you can win!” Lee piped in as he sat down at the table, “Everyone’s talking about how badly you’re going to lose”

Fred’s mind drifted back to last night.

…

“What did he kill your grandma or something? Why are you looking at him like that?” Y/n teased.

“Like what?” Fred replied, with his eyes still locked on Draco.

“Hang on are you jealous?”

“No,” He argued, still eyeing the Slytherin boy, “How did he get ahold of your gloves in the first place?”

“I left them there after our one-night stand last week.”

“What?” Fred’s focus whipped to her.

“You are jealous!”

“I’m not! Just …concerned for your well-being. Did you actually?”

“Of course not you twat. I left them at quidditch practice and he picked them up for me,” She answered, watching as Fred went back to eyeing Draco, “Why won’t you admit you’re jealous?”

“Because I’m not”

“Right… Interesting”

“What is?” Fred finally relaxed as Draco went out of the room.

“That you are jealous, but you just won’t admit it,” Y/N replied as she shoved his shoulder playfully.

“I won't admit it because I’m not jealous,” Fred said pushing her shoulder right back, “Why do you care? I think you want me to be jealous,”

“Wanna bet?”

“On what?”

Fred was slightly anxious. Deep down he knew he was a little jealous. Protective even. But he knew if he admitted it, it would mean admitting his feelings for her, which he was NOT ready to do just yet.

“I bet that I can make you admit you’re jealous by the end of this week,” Y/n challenged.

“You’re on.”

“Good,” Y/n stuck out her hand for him to shake.

“Hang on,” Fred took a confident step closer, instantly making y/n hyper-aware of their proximity, “What do I get if I win?” Fred brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, clearly testing her.

“If you win,” Y/n whispered while taking another step impossibly closer, “I’ll do your potions homework for a week.”

She could feel his chest against hers now but she was not backing down now.

“But if I win,” she continued, “You have to ask me to the Yule Ball- In front of everyone.”

“Deal,” Fred scoffed and shook her hand.

…

“Drag it out as long as you can mate, I’ve started a betting pool” George held up a pouch full of sickles, ever so annoyingly.

“WHY is everyone so convinced I’ll lose?” Fred hissed.

“Because you’re head over heels for her! And because of that,” Lee pointed behind him. All the boys directed their attention to the front of the Great Hall.

“Bloody Hell” George laughed out.

There she was. Standing at the front of the great hall in all her glory was y/n. But instead of her usual sweater and jeans, she sported a tight black turtle neck with a leather skirt resting just below her mid-thigh cleverly directing everyone’s eyes down her toned legs covered by sheer black pantyhose wrapped up neatly by a pair of stunning black heels. She looked absolutely drop-dead gorgeous and much to Fred’s dismay everyone recognized it.

She was currently surrounded by a gaggle of third years, shamelessly trying to catch the older girl’s attention. But there was one specific person who made Fred’s blood boil. To Y/n’s right- stood Cormac, ever the overconfident flirt, making Y/n laugh. Fred couldn’t believe it. He almost, almost, stood up, but at the last second Y/N caught his eyes, so Fred sat back down and directed his attention back to his food.

“Oi! Fred!” Dean Thomas called, approaching Fred, “Are you and Y/N still seeing each other?”

“We were never seeing each other Dean,” Fred hissed through clenched teeth.

“Oh. So you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out?” Lee asked bluntly. George had the nerve to laugh at the 4th year’s audacity, earning a glare from his twin across the table.

“Go right ahead,” Fred approved.

“Wicked.” Dean hurried away towards y/n fixing his robes as he went.

“Have I mentioned you’re entirely, utterly, and completely stupid?” George reminded once more.

“Shut up.”

…

That afternoon Fred sat at the desk in y/n’s room patiently awaiting her arrival. She was supposed to meet him 10 minutes ago, but still no sign of her.

Five more minutes passed and Y/N finally rolled in. Amongst her hair sat a small red flower tucked behind her ear delicately.

“What is that?” Fred pointed to the improvised hairpiece.

“A flower. Dean gave it to me. Red for love or Gryffindor or some rubbish. I don’t know.”

“So now you’re flirting with Dean Thomas? He’s two years below us!”

“Not flirting Fred, simply accepting a gift. Why? Are you jealous?” She challenged crossing to lean on the desk near him.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Right,” She relented rolling her eyes, “Well then, ready to study?”

“If we must”

…

Some days came and went and pretty soon it was Wednesday.

How on Earth is it only Wednesday? Fred thought. He was miserable.

For the past three days, he watched boys trip over themselves just to get near Y/N. He didn’t think she’d carried her own books to class the entire week, not to mention the sweets on her desk had now grown to be a small mountain. It seemed everyone in Hogwarts was determined to make him forfeit. But Fred, just as stubborn as y/n, would not give in that easily.

Today was the Slytherin vs Hufflepuff game. Fred and George routinely made their way up to the stands to support their best friend and third favorite beater: Y/n.

“Bloody hell I’ve never seen the Slytherin stand so packed,” Fred commented as he pushed through the crowd.

“Not to put salt on your wound mate, but I think you know why they’re here” George replied making his own way to the front.

“Unfortunately I’m painfully aware.”

“You have to admit. She does look pretty bloody hot when she’s playing” George poked,

Receiving a sharp smack on his chest from his twin.

“Hey hey! I am not the enemy… Simply pointing out the obvious,” He added.

Smack

“Alright!!”

~~~

“That was mad!” Lee exclaimed.

“I’ve never seen Hufflepuff eat shit that badly” George added.

“Come on. Let’s go find her” Fred said. He may have been in a bad mood, but even he couldn’t deny that it was an amazing game for Slytherin. The boys journeyed down the stairs to wait for the team outside the showers. As they got closer Fred rolled his eyes at the sight before him.

“Sorry gents!” Fred loudly announced to the small village waiting outside the showers for Y/n, “Y/N has already left! Snuck out through the back. Looks like you’ll have to obnoxiously fight for her affections some other time,” he ended, clapping a few of them on their backs.

Fred’s call seemed to clear out most of the crowd including a very disappointed Dean Thomas.

“Right then, that’s better,” Fred sighed.

“You’re encouragable” George muttered.

“Are those my favorite twins I hear?” Y/N exclaimed as she exited the locker room. Her hair was damp and beginning to curl up from the shower and lack of a proper comb.

“That was bloody brilliant,” George congratulated as he hugged her tightly.

“That was a pretty gruesome game,” Fred said, abandoning his usual cocky persona for a more timid one.

“And here I thought you wouldn’t come,” Y/N cood as she crossed over to Fred.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Didn’t say you were”

George cut in, “Right, as entertaining as you two are, I’ve got a date with my pillow. Great game Y/n.” George clapped her on the back and made a quick exit.

“He’s right you know” Fred turned toward the girl.

“About what?”

“You were pretty ‘bloody brilliant’,” he mocked his twin’s tone.

“Thanks, It helped to have my good luck charm in the stands as usual,” she beamed at him.

“Yeah… Well, I’m off then,” Fred said beginning to leave.

“Fred!” She halted the boy, “Um- Well I just… Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah of course.”

~~~

The party was a rager. Gryffindor had just won the Friday match and it seemed like all of Hogwarts was celebrating. The common room was packed with people from all different houses dancing, chatting, and of course drinking.

There was only one rule to get in: you’ve got to wear red and gold.

Fred, however, made sure to deliberately leave that detail a mystery to Y/N. As usual, he had a plan. He figured that this being the last night of their little bet, she would be plotting a scheme of her own, so he would have to beat her before she beat him. His plan was simple: she would show up at the door, not wearing the required colors, and he would graciously offer him his jersey. With no other option, she would be forced to wear a shirt with a big fat “WEASLEY” on the back, easily warding off potential suitors. Now all he had to do was wait for her to show up.

And show up she did. His plan was right on track. She approached the portrait hole confidently; strutting up in an emerald green Slytherin sweater. Perfect.

“Ope, sorry love, gonna have to stop you there.” Fred said blocking her path, “Red or gold required to get in.”

“What?”

“Yup. No entry for green. Sorry darling,” Fred smiled at her oh so sweetly. Y/N tried to ignore the little flutter of her heart when he used that pet name for her.

“But you are in luck!” He continued, “I just so happen to have this!” Fred proudly pulled out and presented his jersey to her, thinking he had won.

“Mhm. Let me get this straight,” Y/n exaggerated, “You ‘just so happen’ to have forgotten to tell me the dress code, and you ‘just so happen’ to have a shirt for me, but it ‘just so happens’ that it has the word ‘WEASLEY’ plastered all over the back?” She saw right through him.

“Yup,” Fred popped the p of the word as he held out the shirt to her.

But Fred had made one fatal mistake, he had forgotten the very reason he fancied this particular woman oh so much: her boldness.

“Right,” She began to speak loudly, as to attract the attention of everyone in the room, “SO I CAN'T COME IN WITH THIS SHIRT, BUT IF I CHANGE TO RED OR GOLD I CAN ENTER?”

“Yes?” Fred hesitated. What was she up to?

“WELL FINE!” She exclaimed, and Fred watched in shock and might he say admiration as the next few actions unfolded in front of him.

Y/n reached down and proudly pulled off her shirt over her head, revealing a bright red bra underneath.

Fred gaped at her. He definitely had not seen this coming, but by god was that attractive. He didn’t know if it was her confidence or just the proximity to her shirtless chest, but Fred Weasley was truly at a loss for words.

“Let the woman in!” Someone shouted from the crowd, and Fred stepped aside to watch as she walked past smirking. How did his plan manage to go that badly?

“It’s alright mate you made a valiant effort,” George appeared patting his shoulder, “But if you do lose I’ve got five galleons on it. I suppose I could share some of the profit.”

“I need a drink,” Fred uttered.

“That’s the spirit.”

~~~

The party raged on, and it was getting dangerously close to midnight. Y/n knew she had to finish this and fast. Luckily, she had the advantage. Fred had been hitting the fire whisky pretty hard, and best of all Cormac had entered the ring once more.

“Hey,” Y/n said approaching Cormac, “You played pretty well, I couldn’t help but watch.”

Actually, she could. She hadn’t even noticed him. In fact, she was pretty sure she was transfixed with a certain Gryffindor beater for most of the game, but she put that aside for now. She was winning this bet.

“Hello beautiful,” He smiled. She internally cringed at his words but persisted.

“Can I sit?”

“Of course” Cormac shoved over to make room for her. Y/n glanced at the clock, getting slightly nervous. 11:30. 30 more minutes- time to be bold. She stole a glance in Fred’s direction, who unfortunately seemed distracted talking to Lee, and with a deep inhalation, sat directly on Cormac’s lap.

“Well hello,” he praised as he placed a hand on her thigh. She fought the urge to move it away and pushed onward once more.

“Hello,” she flirted, glancing back at Fred again. Still not watching. Fuck. Why won’t he look at her? Why won’t Cormac STOP looking at her? Abruptly Y/n became startlingly aware of her shirtlessness.

“You look quite fit tonight. Really a killer outfit,” he joked.

She laughed, LOUDLY, Too loudly to seem natural but it seemed to have caught George’s eye. She hoped he would deliver the news to Fred. The clock was ticking.

Carefully, she placed a hand on Cormac’s chest.

“So do you, but maybe that’s just the fire whiskey talking,” Y/n flirted.

Now it was Cormac’s turn to laugh. Smoothly, he moved his hand from her thigh to her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her chest felt so exposed up against his Jersey, but she had to keep pressing forward. The conversation was going slow, too slow. 11:45. Where was Fred?

“Tell me Y/n- was this bra for me? Or was this just a happy accident,” her brain was screaming at her to bail. To call the whole thing off. But she was so close, Fred would be here soon. She was sure of it.

“Well I-“

“Y/n.” Fred FINALLY cut in. “Can I have a word?”

~~~

Fred ushered her quickly into his room. 11:50.

“The hell was that?” Fred was seething, “Cormac? I knew you were stubborn but I didn’t think you were that cruel.”

“Why? Jealous?” She teased, not quite grasping just how angry he was.

“Why is this a game to you? Why am I a game to you?” Fred sat down facing away from her, raking his fingers through his copper hair.

Y/n was dumbstruck. What just happened?

“What?” She was thoroughly confused.

Fred continued from his seat, “This whole thing. Do you think I wanted to be jealous? Do you think that I like how unreasonably irritated I get when someone else wants to carry your books? Why did you have to go and embarrass me for it? I’m sorry I ever even cared for you like that.”

“Fred- like what? What are you saying?”

“You know well what I mean. It’s already painful enough knowing I’m just a friend.”

“Fred, I guess I’m confused I-”

“I’m in love with you alright? I was perfectly fine loving you in secret! Why did you have to go and mess it all up?” He confessed, his temper getting the better of him. “Just forget it. Clearly, my feelings aren’t that important to you” He stood quickly and headed for the door.

“Fred wait!” He barreled out the door and down to the common room attempting to weave through all the people. Y/n was hot on his tail. “Fred- wait- please- just slow down a minute!”

He continued to push through and out of the portrait.

“Fred!” She followed just behind him, but he didn’t stop. Barreling all the way down through passageways and tunnels until finally reaching the boat house. He stopped on the edge of the dock, and she followed.

“You twat!” She accused.

“Oh, I’m the twat? You’re ridiculous,” He scoffed, turning to face her to argue further, but before he could she cried out.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Roughly, she grabbed the collar of his robes and yanked him closer to her, planting his lips directly on hers before removing them again.

He stared at her shocked, and for the second time tonight, Fred was at a loss for words.

“Did you seriously think I did all of this to embarrass you? Fred, I’m in love with you! I just was tired of dropping hints all the time, so I was hoping this might push you to admit your feelings. I had no idea it would go this far.”

“You- you love me too?”

“Of course I do! Fred, you and I both saw this week, that if I wanted to date someone else I could. But I don’t, okay? Can you get that through your thick skull?”

He stared at her. She stared at him. Gingerly, he approached her raising a hand up to hold her cheek in his palm.

“Y/n?” He whispered.

“Fred?”

The boy slowly moved his hand to grab her chin and pulled her lips closer, but just before they touched he stopped. Smirking he uttered, “It’s 12:05. You owe me some potions homework.”

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered as she finally closed the gap between them.

The kiss was slow and deliberate. The new couple was savoring their first real taste of each other. He tastes just like caramel she noted as he lightly nipped at her bottom lip. Y/n reached up to his neck to pull him closer, but Fred broke the kiss.

“Would you like to take this upstairs?” He asked, “Although the dress code for my room is no red so you’ll probably have to take that off.”

“Prick,” She said with a smile as she brought her lips back down to his. 

#fanfic #fred and george #fred weasley #george weasley #harry potter #reader insert #fanfiction #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasleyxreader #y/n #fluff #angst with a happy ending #light angst #friends to lovers

[writersblockedx]

Favours for the Falling

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader Summary - Fred and Y/n couldn't be more different, yet the boy can't help but find himself falling for her. Warnings - None I don't think! Words - 1.8K

A/n - I’ve got so many things in my drafts that are just waiting to be proof read before I can post them, but here’s one I was able to get done today :)

Masterlist

No one understood it. And, certainly, no one could have predicted it. Y/n was the ever so sweet, the ever so quiet girl, the girl whom you'd struggle to notice in a crowd. Her head found itself constantly down, averting any attention she wished to dismiss. The idea of such was daunting, she liked the shadow, she liked how easily it was to blend into it: undisturbed and disregarded.

And then, all of a sudden, before the students of Hogwarts could bear witness, her walk in the shadow was accompanied by Fred Weasley. Fred Weasley the overt, tumultuous boy who had a space saved for Hogwart's most disruptive student - alongside his equally disruptive twin brother. He was loud and known, a player on the Quidditch team and a name that was infamous around the school.

Suddenly, Fred acted as the sun which casted out her comforting shadow. Suddenly, the hallways weren't so safe for her. Many eyes followed them across the corridors as they walked together, half of Y/n's heavy books secure in Fred's arms as they wandered to class, or the library, or back to the common room. It seemed that for two people whom differed to exponential degrees, they were inseparable.

It got even more confusing when they began getting spotted walking down said hallways, hands now interlocked, or someone would catch Fred pressing a kiss to her cheek before they left for class. Such whispers spread like wild fire through Hogwarts and, before they realised it, everyone was asking: how did it happen?

Truth was, it was almost accidental.

It was one late Thursday, Y/n was in the Libary, completely in a mind of her own when a red-headed boy wandered up to the table she was seated at. Her gaze drew to him, her eyes narrowed and she pulled her headphones from her ears as to greet him. "Sorry, we didn't realise anyone was in here..." It was then she scanned the room and realised it had emptied since she last looked up from her paper. "We're just setting up something." The boy, who she believed to be George, said as he gestured to behind him where Fred stood, conducting some prank she didn't understand.

Y/n was already packing her things away before George had finished speaking, "I didn't even realise-" She stopped herself and snapped her head back to the boy. "What time is it?"

George leaned on the balls of his feet as he hummed and checked his wristwatch, "Just past eleven."

"Shit." The girl muttered, subconsciously beginning to move that bit quicker to gather her items.

George chuckled at her sudden panic and wondered aloud, "You often come to the Libary at this time?"

Y/n settled in a smile as she flung her bag over her shoulder, "Only when I've got a Charms exam tomorrow." She informed, picking her lingering books from the table.

It was then that Fred's head dipped from around a bookcase, wandering towards his brother and the girl he had yet to know. "Exam?" He reiterated as his gaze scanned Y/n. "Wait you're in my charms, right?" Instant anxiety spread over his expression and once more, just to check, to be utterly certain, he asked, "Charms exam...tomorrow?"

The girl held in her laugh, but she wasn't all that surprised. She had her eyes open enough to know that Fred Weasley wasn't the most attentive during lessons. "Flitwick hasn't shut up about it all week." She reminded him, watching as ever so slowly, his excitement over the prank he and his brother were about to conjure fell and, in it's place, stress took over. Y/n flicked open one of her books and pulled out a couple of pages of notes, offering them to the red-head, "Here. It's not everything the test we'll cover, but it's the basics."

Fred hadn't expected such kindness, especially from a girl he barely knew. But he smiled and accepted it gratefully, "Thanks. Thanks a lot."

She glanced to George, nodding her head before she made her move. "I'll see you tomorrow." She said to Fred before turning her back and continuing to the exit.

Fred watched until she disappeared. His gaze glanced to the papers she had given him, filled with handwriting much neater than his own, and words he was sure he needed to learn. From the side of him, George shoved his shoulder and commented, "Idiot."

That night, not only had Fred and George set up their mischievous prank, but Fred had spent most of it revising from the materials Y/n had given him. And, surprisingly enough, a week later, the tests were handed back out and he'd passed. Well, only just, but a pass was a pass and he only had one person to thank.

As the bell rung for the ending of that charms lesson, he made sure to catch Y/n before she slipped into her next one. "Y/n!" He called from down the crowded hallways. Luckily, with his loud voice and his tall posture, Fred Weasley wasn't hard to miss. "Y/n!"

The girl stopped in her tracks, brows furrowed with her books knitted to her chest. She turned and found that the Weasley boy was rushing towards her, a great big grin spread over his lips. Before she knew it, Fred had scooped her feet right off the floor and was spinning her around in his glee, repeating, "Thank you, thank you." Several times before placing her feet back to the floor once again.

A smile emerged at her own lips - certainly not as wide as Fred's, but it was noticeable. "Good grade?" She questioned.

He nodded, "Passing grade!" the boy beamed before rummaging through his bags and pulling out the papers she had lent him that day, "Wouldn't have been able to do it without this- without you."

She shrugged as the two started to wander down the hallway together; side by side. "Don't mention it."

"Don't mention it?" He reiterated as if her words were a mockery. "Y/n, those pieces of paper may have just saved me from McGonagall's wrath. Have you ever been on the receiving end of her anger?" Y/n shook her head as she listened to him go on. "Trust me, you don't want to be."

"You know, if I were you, I might start noting down when my exams are." She then suggested with a cheeky glint in her eyes that Fred couldn't ignore.

"We'll see." He definitely wasn't going to start doing that, but, for her, he lied. "I should do something for you, to repay you." He proposed.

Instantly, Y/n was shaking her head and declined before he even offered anything. "No, no, that's alright. I barely did anything."

To which, Fred caught her gaze and suddenly, it seemed more serious. "You've got no idea what you've just saved me from." He told her and she didn't have the words to respond. "Just let me think about it and I'll come up with something." He flashed his familiar grin, increasing his pace before Y/n had a chance to decline again.

Fred took the week to think on it. In fact, the boy soon started agonizing over it. He knew he had to repay the girl in some way - he wanted to, truly. But he was completely stuck. Every idea that passed through his mind, even the ones he had voiced to George, didn't seem to ever be good enough.

There came one night when the riddle was keeping him up. He'd just suggested to his brother getting the girl something sweet but he'd ruled that out only moments later. The other Weasley twin sat up and glanced over at his brother, "Why do you care so much about this-" He stopped himself and decided to rephrase the question:

"Why do you care so much about her?"

Fred halted and suddenly, that question dawned on him. In that moment, he shrugged in response to George's question. "I don't know. I just- She was kind and- I don't know."

George chuckled from his bed, "And she's pretty?" He raised his brow in a devilish way, prompting Fred's eyes to roll.

"I owe her." He finally decided on.

Truth was, Fred had no idea why he was so tangled by such a simple thing. He was returning a favour. He'd had to do it a million times before with the things he and George needed for their various tricks and pranks. But, for some reason, because it was her, it had him stumped. And maybe George was right, maybe Fred had taken note of her pretty eyes, or her pretty hair or-

The boy was falling and he had only just come to realise it.

He was lucky in that, by the end of the week, he'd sufficiently found what he was going to give Y/n. And, as the last bell for the week was sounded, he waited by her common room until she showed.

"What are you doing here?" Came Y/n's soft tone as she wandered towards the enterance.

Fred turned, his lips smothered by a grin, "Hey, this is me repaying you." He raised his hand and the book that was grasped between them.

Y/n took a few steps closer as to take the book from him. Her fingers brushed the front cover and it's title, shaking her head in disbelief before glancing back up at Fred. "I hate to say this, but I may already have read and own a copy myself." She had a sheepish glint in her eyes as she stared at the boy, "But thank you."

"Shit, sorry, I should have asked." Fred backtracked.

The girl gently pushed his arm in a playful manner, "No, you shouldn't have gone out of your way to get me anything." She told him, but doubted that would have ever stopped him from doing such. "I'm sure anyone else would have done the same thing I did."

He shrugged, "I'm not so sure." He was genuine in that and it tugged at the girl's heartstrings. Fred paused and he found himself captured by Y/n's doe eyes. Before he knew it, words were slipping from his tongue which he couldn't stop. "Why don't we get a butter beer? On me!" He flashed a smile that Y/n couldn't dare to let down.

So her head nodded and she agreed, "If you feel so obliged."

Like that, they changed from their uniforms and wandered down to Hogsmeade. And it was the same next week, and the week after. Suddenly, Fred was sneaking into her dorm, sitting next to her during meal times and finding himself in too deep. But the same was for Y/n.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fan fic #fred weasley oneshot #george weasley #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #ron weasley #draco malfoy #hermione granger #x reader #fanfiction #reader insert

[cleake]

Harry Potter characters: Top or bottom?

Personal opinion!!1!1 (this is just for the funnies)

Harry:

— Switch

Harry can be both, he can be both dominant and reserved. Harry has a lot of repressed emotions so he does have to let them out once in a while and it can get rough. He does make sure that everything is okay and that he doesn’t hurt you but he can get too into it and sometimes he doesn’t catch himself on being too much. But he can also be very gentle and delicate when he isn’t overwhelmed by emotion. He wants to appreciate the moment and let himself feel all the love and affection between you two, it makes him feel so happy and special. He likes being treated and treat you, he doesn’t really have a preference it depends on his mood. He likes to take control of things but he doesn’t need to to feel good, he likes it when you are more dominant too.

Ron:

— Bottom/Switch

Ronald Weasley, the boy who doesn’t know what he wants. He thinks that he can be the dominant one, he pictures himself as one and he has the knowledge, but when it comes to acting on those things he is a bit reserved. When you take control, he feels a bit too giddy inside to stop you and is very enthusiastic to see what you’ll do. He’s happy that you’re willing to control him more, he wants to see it and it excites him, afterwards he can be a bit grumpy that he didn’t take the opportunity but that won’t last for long. He’s a sucker for love and affection, he can’t resist it when it happens. He can be more dominant, he does take control when he wants to but he’s much more happy to see you treat him. Not that he’ll leave everything to you, no no, he’ll absolutely do anything you’d ask.

Hermione:

— Switch

Hermione likes to have control, she likes the entitlement and power it gives her but she isn’t very greedy for it. She doesn’t have to be the dominant one but if you ask nicely she’ll do it with pleasure. Although she likes it more when you two work together equally, she feels more loved that way and it’s more pleasant for her. She does like it when you get more controlling, she observes you intently and will call you out when you do something that she doesn’t or does appreciate. She sometimes will literally correct you, after you do something she’ll shake her head and say “No no, that wasn’t right, let me show you” and then proceed to do the same thing to you with more ability to prove your mistake. She can be a bit competitive but not too often.

Fred:

— Switch/Top

Now, Fred is cocky and thinks he’s the stuff so he’ll most likely take control. That doesn’t mean he’s necessarily good at it, it can get a bit messy. He is skilled and it can be nice but he takes a lot of pride in the fact that he was the dominant one. He’ll tease you about it and provoke you, a bit cruelly but he’ll stop when your feelings get hurt. But when you take control, he freezes. He doesn’t know what to do, he’s clueless and looks like a deer in headlights. He does get used to you being the demanding one and starts to like it, a lot. He would be more willing to let you take control, not even trying to fight it after some time, he absolutely wants it. He will still tease you, even with you on top but his reactions are good enough to tell that he’s enjoying it.

George:

— Bottom/Switch

George is more mature about this than Fred, he takes it more seriously but that doesn’t mean he won’t tease you. He still considers this fun but it can be also more personal to him. Sometimes he’s focused on controlling you, sometimes he just melts when you treat him. He doesn’t mind being on the bottom, it doesn’t hurt his ego, he enjoys it and is in awe of your treatment. If you want him to be more dominant he’ll gladly do it, without a question, but if you’d like to take control he doesn’t talk back. He’s just happy that he’s sharing this experience with you and that means to him the most, he wants you to enjoy it so whatever you want is on your command.

Ginny:

— Top

She’s not messing around, she will pin you against the wall and control you like her puppet. She likes having control, she likes proving her strength, and it makes her feel good. She won’t be rough on you if you don’t want it but she’s not giving up that top spot, she is in charge. She does give you opportunities to be more dominant but not enough to overpower her. She can get more gentle if you want it, she doesn’t want to hurt you but she’s having more fun if she’s on top.

Neville:

— Switch/Bottom

Neville is nervous at the beginning, he doesn’t have a lot of experience, but when he gets it he’s more and more willing to engage in being more dominant. He’s not controlling, he always makes sure that you’re comfortable and that nothing is against you but when he makes sure that it’s okay, he goes for it. He can appreciate both being on top and the bottom, he likes it when you treat him, it makes him feel loved and cared for but he also wants you to feel the same way. He can get excited and get rougher if you like it, he may be a bit embarrassed afterward but he does enjoy being more dominant when he feels like it and you want it.

Draco:

— Bottom

Do you think this boy will take you? Do you think that this wet cat is going to control you? Nuh-uh, he’s going to crumble when you do anything to him, he’s touch starved. The smallest touches make him fold and whimper for you like a fool. He doesn’t like it of course, he doesn’t like that he folds and shows his vulnerability but it’s too good when you take control of him and he can’t stop you. He can try to take control but touch him anywhere while he’s doing it, tease him, or provoke him a little and he can’t take it.

Tom:

— Switch

You think that Tom Riddle is intimidated or threatened by being on the bottom? Of course not. His power doesn’t come from his position. His ego is big and he is determined to show you that he still has control even with you on top of him. He won’t even do much, he’ll let you have the power, giving into him like a fool you are, and he knows that he still is in charge. He won’t even provoke or tease you much, he’ll just watch you and give you small touches that will make you melt. And he does enjoy someone treating him, it makes him feel even more powerful. Whatever you do, he’s not impressed.

#x reader #reader insert #headcanon #writing #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter headcanon #hp x reader #hp headcanon #hp fandom #harry potter #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #hermione granger #neville longbottom #ginny weasley #draco malfoy #tom riddle #harry x reader #ron weasly x reader #hermione granger x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #ginny weasley x reader #draco malfoy x reader #neville longbottom x reader #tom riddle x reader #my opinion #yeah

[enweasley]

Restricted Section ; Finn Weasley x Sallow!Reader

AN: HII! So I haven't seen this being done much (or even at all but I barely looked) where people would write fanfics of their own characters in Hogwarts Legacy, so I decided to do so! Quick introduction to the character:

This is Finn Weasley; He's in Gryffindor and has a very loyal but mischievous personality. He's also pansexual! He LOVES herbology but he loves solving mysteries and exploring secrets even more - even if it's super dangerous. However, he will go to any extent to keep others out of danger (ironically). Finn can be really harsh to people if someone hurts him or the people he cares about. He's not perfect, though, he has some flaws. He does have a short temper and can say pretty horrible things without meaning to. He can also be quite reckless and finds it hard to accept other people's love and care, leading him to forget to keep himself from getting hurt.

That's all for now, but I'll probably add more to his story as time goes by!

(Please excuse any grammar mistakes, I'm trilingual and grammar from 3 languages can mix me up a lot C:)

--

Summary: The new student needs your help sneaking into the restricted section for something 'very important'. However, he doesn't expect you to cover for him when you get caught.

Warnings: Swearing, small panic attack, gets a little heated at the end. Kinda cheesy but we love that :)

Reader's gender is never specified!

--

"Excuse me! Y/n Sallow, right?" Interrupted from your game of wizard's chess alone, you turn around to be met with a pretty tall red-head. You couldn't help but think about how gorgeous he is, but you swallow your excitement.

"Yeah, that's me. You're the new kid aren't you?" You disenchant your chess game and give him your full attention. "I watched your duel with Sebastian in the Clock Tower, you're really good!"

Finn seems to flush at your compliment. During his short time starting in 5th year here in Hogwarts he's gotten plenty compliments on how he's been able to learn and execute spells so quickly, but for some reason your compliment had a special affect on him.

He chuckles lightly. "Thank you, I'm just trying to catch up quickly." He couldn't seem to keep his eyes from wandering over your features. "It's Finn, by the way. Finn Weasley."

"Oh, another Weasley! Well it's lovely to meet you! Did you need anything?" You ask politely.

Finn almost forgot why he was talking to you in the first place, but managed to remember before already humiliating himself in front of you. "Right, yes. This may sound quite forward, but Sebastian told me you're really good at sneaking around. Is there a chance you can help me sneak into the restricted section of the library tonight? I can't say why, but it's very important."

You were a bit surprised at his request, but kind of prideful that you were the first person he was led to for it. You smiled widely. "Of course! I'm surprised my brother didn't take you himself. Meet me at the grand staircase at 9. Don't be late!"

"Wait- Don't you wanna know more about why I need to sneak in?" He asked perplexed.

"Nope. I'll take any opportunity for sneaking around. Either way, you don't seem the type to burn down the castle or anything. Plus, you said you can't say why you need to sneak in."

He mentally facepalmed himself. How could he forget he just said that? Maybe he just wanted to talk to you longer. "I'll see you at 9!" You smile at him and walk away.

You take a long breath after turning away from him. Holy shit he's cute.

-

You're both crouched at the railing of the stairs looking down onto the central hall at exactly 9pm, analysing the prefects walking around and guarding the doors of the library.

"Okay," you whisper. "First of all, we need to go invisible. Have you learnt the disillusionment spell?"

Finn looks at you like a lost puppy, his head slightly titled. You almost had to tell him how cute he looked, but held back.

You pull your wand out and whisp it over your head and body. The wand leaves a blue trail of light before all there was left was your aura.

You continue whispering to the lost boy in front of you. "This is the disillusionment spell. It doesn't turn you completely invisible but it's better than being completely exposed."

You point to his hand holding his wand. "May I?" He nods hesitantly.

You slowly hold his fist clenching onto his wand and do the same movement you did on yourself over him. Finn could barely focus, the feeling of your soft hand on his summoning an army of butterflies in his stomach. You couldn't help but feel the same tingle in your stomach too.

Clearing your throat, you speak. "That's the movement for the spell. Just think of it and do the movement."

He did as you said, and suddenly you were both just two ghosts staring at each other's remains.

Finn chuckles enthusiastically. "This is awesome!" He whisper yells.

You laugh at his excitement, wishing you could see his freckled face through the spell.

"Okay, let's go. Stick close to me." You begin to sneak down the stairs, through the hall, and quickly side past the prefect turned away from the library door. You can feel Finn following closely behind.

After you both get into a safer corner of the library away from Madam Agnes's sights, you remove the spell off you.

"Here's the plan," you start. "You go get the key from Madam Agnes's desk draw over there, I'll distract her."

Finn nods. As you start to turn away, Finn grabs your arm gently and looks at you with his adorable puppy eyes.

"What if you get caught?" He sounds worried. You can't tell why he'd be worried about you, though.

You give him a cheeky smile. "Me? Get caught? You should worry about yourself, Weasley." He chuckles, shooing away the blush creeping into his cheeks after hearing you call him by his surname. "C'mon, let's go."

As you throw a book across the room, Finn conceals himself and scurries to grab the key. You quickly do the same and meet him at the entrance of the restricted section.

Exposing yourselves from the spell, you watch him unlock the gate before you walk in.

"YES!" Finn cheers, surprising you both with a tight hug. There's a pause before he realises what he's doing and slowly pulls away, taking his warmth away with him. "Sorry... Got excited."

You laugh sweetly at him. "I don't mind." He continues walking down the stairs of the forbidden room, but not before shooting you a relieved smirk.

"Lumos." You cast, making the eery room brighter and less intimidating.

As you squeeze between abandoned bookshelves and over piles of junk, you reach a collapsed set of armour. "Repai-" Finn begins to cast before a loud screech interrupts him.

Almost out of thin air, Peeves flies through the wall in front of you. He almost knocks you down, but Finn's quick reflexes catch you before you hit the ground. You find yourself wrapped in his arms, yours tightly around his neck.

"Shit, are you okay?" Finn asks you breathlessly, his worried eyes glaring into yours.

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine-" But once again you were interrupted by the same squeaky, loud voice of the poltergeist.

"I'M TELLING, I'M TELLING," Peeves squeals mockingly before flying straight upwards towards the main floor of the library.

Your heart squeezes into itself. You've never been caught before, why now? Your uncle is going to kill you if he finds out you were sneaking around the castle, and in the restricted section of all places.

You didn't realise your breath was quickening until you felt arms lowering you onto the floor and rough but warm hands palming each side of your neck.

"Hey, hey. You're alright, sweetheart. Take a breath." You hear Finn's soft voice whisper in your ear. A little voice was in your head screaming How do you expect me to breathe when you're making my heart beat even faster??

You breathe deeply before letting out a small chuckle. "I'm okay. I'm fine. Just go get whatever you need to get. I need to deal with Peeves before he gets us both in trouble."

Finn looks at you as if asking you if you're sure. You just nod and sprint after Peeves, the last thing you hear is a distant "Repairo" before making it back to the library.

"PEEVES YOU STUPID POLTERGEIST." You try catching him, forgetting he's a literal ghost as your arms flail right through him.

"Y/n Sallow." You jump at the voice of Madam Agnes behind you. You slowly turn around while Peeves chuckles menacingly at your head hung low in shame. "And to think I'd get a break from the Sallow siblings, you come running along. Wait until your uncle hears about this."

"No. No no no-" You get interrupted by her. "That's enough. You're a bright student, you should know better than to go sneaking around the restricted section especially after curfew."

"But Madam Agnes-"

"And Peeves here tells me you were with someone else." Peeves twirls and rolls around mid-air, celebrating your punishment. "Please tell me you were forced to come here by someone's hand instead of it being your own choice."

There's a pause. You could never snitch on Finn like that. You only just met him but you know better than to put his record at risk on his first week of school here. This was your own choice anyway, you weren't forced. Finn helped you down there, so you're gonna help him.

"No. I came here all alone." You said in a low but stern voice.

Madam Agnes sighs at your lie, but she knew how stubborn you and your brother were, so she let it slide.

"Detention after classes tomorrow. You're going to sort the books to their respective places until they're all done. It doesn't matter if it takes you all night." Your shoulders slump. "Peeves, escort her to her common room, please."

With a sigh from you and an evil chuckle from the poltergeist, you begin your walk to your common room. At least Finn's in the clear now.

Little did you know, Finn saw the whole thing from behind one of the shelves. He couldn't help but let a grateful smile reach his lips.

--

The next day, Finn runs to the library to find you after his classes. It's already dark out by the time he finishes his extra tasks and from talking to Professor Fig. He doesn't know why he's in such a hurry, but he won't let his confidence escape him just yet.

Once he's in, he find the library to be completely empty, not even Madam Agnes in sight. He hears distant curses and shuffling coming from the second floor and he can only assume the source being your complaining.

As he follows the sounds of frustrated mumbles, he finally finds you at the end of the second floor in a dark corner holding a bunch of books to shelf up. He smiles at the sight of you awkwardly balancing everything in your one hand and walks over to you, taking a pile of books from you.

"Need help there?" He looks at you with a teasing smirk.

You look at him with a grumpy face. "Oh haha, Weasley. I can handle this on my own, thank you very much." You snatch back the books he took from you, instant regret flooding your features as you immediately struggle to balance them.

Finn immediately takes them back from you and effortlessly holds them over his head, extending his arm upwards far from your reach.

"Hey- Hand those back, Weasley." You try hopping to reach the books he so graciously stole from you.

He chuckles at your efforts while you claw up his chest and shoulders, trying to tug down his arm. After a harsh tug, Finn loses balance of the books he's holding and he tries catching them but ends up stumbling forwards.

The books fall to the side as Finn catches himself on the bookshelf, trapping you between it and himself.

You lock eyes with him, your hands clutched tightly onto the thin material of his shirt over his chest. You're both breathing heavily, chests almost touching with every breath.

You can feel Finn hesitate as his hands slowly reach to cup the back of your neck, his thumb over your cheek. No matter how much you willed yourself to, your simply could not take your eyes off him.

"Thank you." He whispers. Your eyebrows furrow.

"For what?"

"For covering for me." His stare snapping between your eyes and lips. "I heard you in the library after we got caught."

"You mean after I caught got?" You tease.

Finn smirks at your remark, his hold on your neck squeezing for a second. "Whatever you say, sweetheart." The nickname melts into your ears and into the rushed beats of your heart.

"Hey, Finn?" The use of his first name makes the blood rush to his cheeks, his breath hitches.

"Yeah?"

"You dropped my books."

"Shut up." Finn lets out in a desperate breath before pulling you into him, his lips roughly but passionately meeting yours.

His other hand shifts from the side of your head to tangle into your hair, tugging it lightly. You let out a little whimper, but that's all it took for Finn to deepen the kiss even more, his tongue slightly grazing yours. Breaths were escaping through your noses, desperate for air but never desperate enough to separate from each other.

Your fingers weave through his long, soft ginger locks. Your other hand clutches desperately onto the collar of his shirt.

You both finally pull away from each other, your hands gliding down to rest on his chest.

"Fuck." Finn leans his forehead on yours, leaning in for another quick peck. His hazel eyes are glazed over, looking into yours like they hold the world. He slowly brushes a strand of your hair behind your hair, memorising your face as you memorise his.

"I was hoping you'd do that." You chuckle breathlessly. Finn laughs with you, his eyes holding nothing but love as they stare into yours. "Oh yeah?" You nod, your nose lightly touching his.

"Now help me with these books, Weasley. You're still responsible for my detention." You playfully push him away and start picking up the books he previously dropped.

"And I'd do it again as long as it ends like this every time." He smiles at you cheekily.

"Do it again and I'm telling Sebastian you used a love potion on me."

And with that he got to work helping you sort the books out.

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[stanathanxoox]

Piggy Back

During family events or gatherings with friends the other can be found with the baby, enjoying themselves immensely. - George Weasley x reader

You entered the Burrow with your fiance who immediately raced off to find his niece Victorie, and Harry’s God son Teddy. They were in the living room and you found Fleur, Bill and Harry sitting on the chairs watching the two youngsters interact with the tall red head you adored so much. You smile as you watch him happily interacting with the two little ones, Teddy calling out to George 

“Georgie piggy back” and he happily obliges, carrying the two and a half year old on his back whilst telling a story which has the two little ones giggling away.

“He’ll be a great dad one day” Fleur says, Bill agreeing with his wife and you smile

“It may be sooner than he thinks” you whisper to the three, placing your hand on your tummy

“No way” Harry whisper shrieks, making sure not to catch the attention of the others in the room

“Way” you say.

“Does my brother know yet?” Bill asks

“He found out about an hour before we left home” you reply and they smile.

“We’re going to tell everyone at dinner tonight” you say, and the three nod their heads, as you all turn your attention back to your fiance and the two small children.

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[im-a-wonderling]

Seven Years of Bad Luck ~ George Weasley

Summary: The golden trio needs Y/N’s help, but George hates his wife being in danger

Warnings: none that I can think of? Let me know if there should be!

Word count: 6.3k

Y’all I’m so proud of the way this turned out, so I hope you like it!

“Absolutely not!” George Weasley leapt to his feet from his charcoal gray couch, glaring at Harry Potter with a fiery look in his eyes that rivaled the brilliant shade of his hair.

“Why not?” Harry argued, also getting to his feet. “This is life and death!”

“We wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t,” Ron cut in, and Hermione nodded. 

George scowled, far from convinced. “Look, Harry, I get that this is important “chosen one” business, and I am happy to see the three of you are still alive, but you’re not dragging Y/N into your top-secret mission. She’s a person, not a tool.”

“I know that,” Harry replied defensively. 

“And yet,” George said hotly, his hand gestures getting more and more animated, “you’re here in my living room at three o’clock in the morning to ask Y/N to use her powers when you know how that affects her!” He rubbed his forehead. “How did you guys even find this house? It’s been charmed to high heaven!”

Ron and Harry looked at Hermione, who shrugged. “You’re trying so hard to keep You-Know-Who out, it doesn’t seem to matter who else slips in.”

George rolled his eyes. Sometimes the young witch was too bright for her own good. “Well, if you found your way in, it means you can find your way out again.”

“But we have to talk to Y/N!” Harry protested. 

George folded his arms stubbornly. “You’re not going to.”

“Surely there’s no harm in at least asking for her help,” Ron said, and George immediately rounded on him.

“You know as well as I do that she can never say no to anyone, even if it kills her.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Hermione replied in her know-it-all voice. “No one’s ever died while attempting catoptromancy.”

George glared at the bushy-haired witch, who shrank into his brother’s side, looking terrified. “Maybe they haven’t died, but they have lost their minds. When Y/N and I first moved here, I had to remove every mirror in this house before she’d even step foot inside.”

“Please?” Harry begged. “It’s very important.” From behind Harry, Ron nodded gravely.

George’s nostrils flared, giving the impression he was a wild bull about to charge. “Do you mind telling me exactly what is so important that you’re willing to force my wife into insanity?”

Harry glanced uneasily at his best friends, and George didn’t like their solemn expressions. 

“We…erm…” Ron trailed off, his courage buckling under the wrath burning in his brother’s face. “We can’t tell you,” he muttered, his face flushing a bright red. 

George’s eyes flashed like lightning, and the trio knew the storm was right on top of them, for his thunderous words followed immediately after. “Get out of my house!” he roared. 

In the silence that followed his order, all four of them heard the same sound: feet on the stairs. 

“George?” 

Harry, Hermione, and Ron had never seen George’s temper deflate so quickly as he strode to the staircase, just in time to meet Y/N at the bottom. 

They all knew she’d just woken up, for she smothered a yawn, and there was a light, floral robe wrapped around her. “What’s going on?” Y/N asked, rubbing at her sleepy eyes.

George gently rested his hands on her shoulder, turning her around. “Nothing, honey, just go back upstairs, okay? I’ll be up there soon.”

But before Y/N had even climbed one stair, Harry piped up. “Y/N, we need your help.” Y/N immediately faced the trio, and George shot a glower so powerful in Harry’s direction, it nearly made him lose his nerve. 

“Don’t listen to them,” George said, starting to push his wife up the stairs. “Just go back to bed, okay?”

George’s wife ducked around him, walking towards Harry. “You need my help with what?” 

“Don’t you dare–” George started to say. 

“We need your divination skills,” Ron explained, shooting his brother an apologetic look. Judging by George’s barely concealed rage, Ron wasn’t forgiven. There was no indication Y/N seemed scared by their request. Her eyes just darted between the three friends, waiting for elaboration. 

Harry glanced at his friends before facing Y/N. “The mission that Dumbledore gave us…to complete it, there’s an object we have to find.” Behind Harry, Ron scratched his neck, clearly feeling awkward. 

“What’s the object?” Y/N asked. “Why do you need it?”

“We can’t tell you why,” Harry replied. He expected George to blow up immediately, but George stayed silent, watching his wife. The whole room went quiet as Y/N seemed to digest Harry’s answer. Admittedly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn’t know Y/N that well, for she’d been in a different house and a different year than them, but she didn’t seem scared. Perhaps George had only been exaggerating Y/N’s fear of her own capability. 

“I told them to get lost,” George finally said, coming to stand beside his wife. “They don’t know how–”

Y/N lightly jabbed her husband in the side with her elbow. “Of course I will help.”

Harry sagged with relief. “Thank you so much, Y/N, you have no idea–”

“Y/N,” George interrupted, his tone warning.

His wife looked over at him. “They need help. I can’t turn them away.”

George lifted a hand to cup her face. “I can.” His voice wasn’t loud or hostile like it’d been when he’d been talking to Harry. It was tender, enough that Harry, Ron, and Hermione all averted their eyes, feeling like they were intruding. “I love you,” George continued, “but your powers are dangerous, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Y/N covered his hand with hers. “Thanks to Galloglass, I’ve been doing so much better. Remember the last time I used his psychomanteum? It wasn’t nearly as bad as it used to be.”

“You passed out, and you were weak for months!” George protested.

“And I got back up on my feet, thanks to you. So if you help me, we can do it again.”

George stuck out his chin. “It’s not safe.”

“If they don’t succeed in their mission, You-Know-Who will kill us all.” She looked at the trio. “Right?”

“Yes,” Hermione said firmly. 

“See?” Y/N addressed George again. “This is the right thing to do.”

“The only way we even have a chance of getting any useful information is if we use the psychomanteum again, and that place is crawling with Death Eaters looking for muggleborns.”

“So we’ll be careful and quick,” Y/N said soothingly. “We’ll be in and out, and You-Know-Who will never know we were even there.”

George’s eyebrows lowered at the mention of the Death Eaters’ leader. “But if the Death Eaters catch you while you’re using your catoptromancy, who knows what You-Know-Who would do? He’d turn you into a weapon, and I can guarantee that he will not care about your sanity!”

“If You-Know-Who succeeds, it’s only a matter of time before they find me anyways.”

“It’s not safe,” George said stubbornly. “Galloglass said if you strain yourself too much, you could fracture your mind.”

“So then you can be the one to pull me back if I start to go too far. You can be my voice of reason.” She grabbed his hand, a wry smile on her face. “It’s high time you took a turn being the voice of reason in this relationship anyways.”

George stayed silent, causing everyone in the room to anxiously hold their breath, including Y/N. Then, George exhaled harshly. “If I were to agree to this, you’d listen to me, right? If I told you that you were straining yourself too hard or that it’d become too dangerous, you’d take my words into consideration?”

Y/N nodded.

“Okay,” George said reluctantly. “But I’m there every step of the way.”

Y/N smiled up at him. “I would want nothing less.”

“Alright.” George stepped away from his wife, still clutching her hand as he faced Harry again. “You three ready for a field trip?”

-

None of the young witches and wizards had ever been to Diagon Alley before the sun rose, and it wasn’t an experience any of them wanted to have again. Most of the shops were closed down—due to the fear that was sweeping through the magical community like a plague—but even the ones that were still open didn’t look a fraction as jolly as Diagon Alley used to be.

You-Know-Who’s authoritative grip on the magical community was nearly complete. 

Y/N and George skittered down the cobblestone road, looking over their shoulders often, as if they’d forgotten Harry, Ron, and Hermione were following under the invisibility cloak and were expecting to see them. George kept surveying their surroundings, his hand tightly gripping the wand in his pocket, ready to spring into action if danger dared to show its face. 

Thankfully, there were very few other witches and wizards loitering on the street, and they all seemed to have secrets of their own.

The group had almost reached their destination when George slowed. Y/N slowed with him, much to the confusion of the trio underneath the cloak…until they realized what shop they’d stopped in front of.

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

The previously colorful and welcoming shop was completely closed down, with wooden boards nailed over the doors and windows. 

George felt his wife squeeze his hand. 

“You and Fred will open it back up,” she said softly. 

“Yeah,” George said, but he didn’t look hopeful or even convinced. He felt an invisible hand squeeze his shoulder, and despite the fact that George didn’t know whose hand it was, he felt comforted enough to keep walking. 

Y/N led the group to a shop three doors down from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, a shop that the trio could’ve sworn they’d never seen before.

Janus Galloglass, the words on the sign read. Scrying mirrors, enchanted mirrors, and haunted mirrors sold here!

Y/N rested a hand on the doorknob, and there was an audible click as the door unlocked. “I’m here so often, the door’s enchanted to let me in,” she murmured. “Now whatever you do,” she warned as she pushed the door open, “don’t look at your reflections. My knowledge is rusty when it comes to mirror magic, and I’d rather not have to fight any of the spirits or spells in these mirrors.”

With those chilling words, everyone followed her inside, dutifully keeping their eyes down, even if the shop was so dark, they most likely wouldn’t have been able to see anything anyways. 

As soon as the door behind them was closed, Harry threw the cloak off, revealing himself, Ron, and Hermione. 

“Lumos,” Y/N muttered, the tip of her redwood wand igniting to show the way forward through the cramped shop. 

If any member of the group had looked up from the worn wooden planks of the floor, they would’ve seen the largest mirror any of them had ever seen just beside the door. The whole Order of the Phoenix could’ve fit in front of that mirror with room to spare. They also would’ve seen the shelves in the middle of the shop holding every kind of mirror imaginable. Some were handheld, some propped up on their own, some were exceptionally plain, some had detailed frames that looked ancient and expensive.

But all had danger lurking inside.

“I hate this place,” George muttered as Y/N led the group through the shop.

Y/N had to agree. Even if she had grown less afraid around mirrors, she still couldn’t squash the unease that dogged her every step. 

“Why are we here?” Harry asked, as they weaved their way around the shelves.

“Oh, why are we in this creepy shop at four in the morning instead of sound asleep in our safe beds?” George asked. “Because someone decided–” 

Y/N elbowed her husband again. “There’s a psychomanteum in the basement that Galloclass lets me use.” 

Ron glanced over at Hermione. “What is a ‘psychomanteum’?”

“It’s a dark room catoptromancers go to use their powers,” Hermione explained. “The room is set up to help keep the catoptromancer safe while they attempt to see the future, including an enchanted mirror.”

“Mirrors,” Y/N corrected as she started leading them down a staircase. The trio exchanged looks, but George followed her with no hesitation. 

A stark contrast to the room above, the psychomanteum was bare. The black walls seemed to move slightly, as if they were incapable of being solid, and every now and then, there seemed to be something moving just on the other side of the watery barriers.

“Is this room safe?” Ron asked, eyeing the walls. 

George’s grim expression was answer enough. 

“Catoptromancy always has risks,” Y/N explained. “But here is a safer place to do it than anywhere else.” 

That wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement, and now the trio understood why Y/N didn’t have a psychomanteum in her own home.

Harry opened his mouth, intending to ask where the mirrors were when he saw, at the end of the room, three plain, full-length mirrors stood side-by-side. The one in the center stood parallel to the wall behind it, while the others were at an angle, like the covers of an open book.

“It’s okay to look at these reflections,” Y/N explained as she lit a few candles the others hadn’t noticed, “but stay back. The catoptromancy won’t work if the magical radius is interrupted.” 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione shrank back, hovering uncertainly at the foot of the stairs. George, however, stood in the middle of the room, closely monitoring his wife’s every move as she approached the mirrors, pulling on her fingers as if she were counting them. 

They all could tell she was nervous now. 

She stopped just in front of the center mirror, and, thanks to the angle of the side mirrors, she had many reflections, all chewing anxiously on their lips. “We’ll need silencing charms in this room if we don’t want Death Eater company.”

“I got it,” Hermione said, quickly pulling out her wand.

“What else can we do?” George asked as Hermione started muttering spells at the bottom of the stairs. 

Y/N squared her shoulders. “Someone should be ready to cast the Shield Charm, because sometimes things can come out.” 

“Come out?” Ron squeaked, and his brother shot him a look. Ron cleared his throat. “I mean, I’ll do that.”

Harry stepped forward. “What can I do?”

“When we’re ready, you’ll need to describe what it is that you want to know.” Harry nodded tersely. Y/N nodded back. “George?” she asked, her voice shaking a little. 

“I’m here,” he said immediately, taking a step forward, despite her warning. “How can I help?”

Her eyes found his in the reflection. “You’re in charge. You’re the one to talk me down when I’m in my stupor.” Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn’t know what that could possibly mean, but George nodded grimly. 

The trio waited with bated breath, eager for Y/N to begin. 

But she just stood there, fidgeting. 

“Hey,” George said, a playful smirk on his face. “If you faced down Snape during your N.E.W.T.s  and walked away with an ‘Outstanding’ in potions, you can do this in your sleep.”

Y/N snorted, and George seemed to relax slightly at the sound. “You’re right.” She rubbed her hands together, like she was trying to generate warmth. “Okay.” After shaking out her arms, Y/N shut her eyes, breathing in and out. 

When nothing seemed to happen, Harry looked at Ron—who shrugged—and then Hermione—who just held up her hands in an I-don’t-even-know gesture. She’d always hated divination anyways.

As Harry debated asking George what came next, the sound of Y/N’s breath started to carry, creating a cascade of echoes through the chamber. The whoosh of her lungs became so loud, Harry felt as though he were actually inside of her body, hearing the air go in and out. 

Then, with each breath, the room seemingly dropped a few degrees, and the very building shuddered around them. Harry glanced at his friends, seeing his worry matched in their expressions. Then he looked at George and saw twice as much concern in his face. 

When Y/N opened her eyes again, Hermione let out a little gasp, for Y/N’s eyes were completely clouded over, looking quite like the crystal balls with milky white smoke inside. 

George nudged Harry, who cleared his throat. “Right, Y/N, we need to find a cup.” Y/N didn’t blink or move, and George gestured for Harry to keep going. “It used to belong to Helga Hufflepuff, and it’s the artifact for the Hufflepuff house.”

Y/N’s eyes stayed fixed on some distant point of interest, but her breathing quickened. 

“Something’s happening,” Ron whispered, and he was right. 

The three mirrors no longer reflected the room’s occupants. Instead, a milky white ink matching the clouds in Y/N’s eyes started to swirl in the mirrors.

George grabbed Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, keep going, keep describing the cup.”

“It’s a golden goblet with two handles, and it has the badger on the side.” As the words left Harry’s mouth, the cup appeared in the center mirror, directly in front of Y/N. “That’s it!” Harry cried. “Where is it?”

The cup grew smaller and smaller.

“Why’s it getting farther away?” Hermione asked, sounding petrified. 

“Just give her a second.” George licked his lips. “She just needs time.”

George was right, for as the cup got further away, the background started to form, spanning across all three mirrors. The cup rested on a shelf in a dark room, surrounded by other precious objects of gold and silver. 

“There’s other things there,” said Harry, stating the obvious. “But where’s there?”

The picture continued to grow smaller, as if someone was holding a camera and stepping away. The more the location came into view, the more precious pieces appeared. Beside a neat stack of gold bars lay piles of galleons, sickles and knuts, and there were many antiques that no one had names for. 

“It’s a whole room of treasure,” Hermione breathed, and her reverence was justified. One-sixteenth of this collection would be enough to set anyone up for life. 

“Maybe it’s a hoard?” Ron suggested, shifting his weight. 

Y/N’s shoulders started rising and falling as her breathing grew more ragged. George turned to Harry. “We’ll need to stop soon, she’s reaching the end of her rope.”

“But we’re so close!” Harry objected. “We have to keep going!”

George’s head turned back towards the mirrors. The image continued to zoom out, but it was slowing down as Y/N’s breathing grew more labored. 

“She can’t take much more!” George snapped. 

“We need to see more,” Harry demanded. George stepped towards Harry, looking ready to hit him, when Ron slid in between them, holding them both at bay. 

“Guys, look!” Hermione shouted, and everyone looked at the mirror just as the view came through the doorway, and the door shut, as if by some invisible force. 

Harry recognized it immediately. “It’s a vault!” he said excitedly, turning to his friends. “The cup is in a vault in Gringotts!” He watched the mirrors eagerly. That eagerness started to fade, however, when Harry saw his own form materialize in the center mirror, covered in dirt and looking ragged. 

“Harry, it’s time to stop,” George said, but Harry didn’t seem to hear him. 

“Y/N, we need to see the number of the vault, show us the numbers!”

“Stop it,” George hissed, grabbing Harry’s shoulder. 

But one by one, the numbers on the vault started to sharpen and come into focus.

“Seven!” Ron said. “Two!” 

Suddenly, the zooming out sped up, the perspective tilting. 

“Did anyone see what the last number was?” Harry cried, but George was far beyond the point of caring. 

“Y/N, stop!” George cried, and Y/N stumbled, as if some unseen force had pushed her. George tried to run towards her, but an invisible barrier stopped him. “Y/N!” George shouted, pounding on the barrier. “Y/N!” 

“What’s happening?” Ron asked, looking horrified. 

“Her catoptromancy’s in control now!” George shouted. “It’s keeping me away so the job can be finished!”

The picture in the mirror continued to spiral, quicker and quicker, somewhat reminiscent of a muggle rollercoaster. 

“Y/N, breathe, it’s okay, remember you’re in control!” George yelled. 

The image started to settle a bit, but not on a sight any of them wanted to see. 

“It’s a dragon!” Harry exclaimed.

In a large underground chamber stood a large, white dragon. Chains wrapped around its neck, and streaks of blood ran down the scales directly underneath the restraints. As if the dragon had heard Harry, it turned towards the mirror and opened its mouth, the temperature in the room spiking.

“Ron!” George bellowed, just before flames started to spew from the dragon’s mouth. 

“Aguamenti!” A burst of water flew from the tip of Ron’s wand. The invisible barrier seemed to be gone as the water drenched everything. 

A great amount of steam burst through the room, and the trio instinctually covered their faces.

George, however, ran forwards, straight toward his wife, who was already crumpling. He slid, just barely catching Y/N before she collided with the ground. “Y/N?” he asked, shaking her slightly, but her cloudy eyes were unblinking. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at the mirrors. The dragon had gone, and the surface of the mirrors had returned to their previous smoky appearance, but a few shades darker. 

“Y/N!” George shouted, gently laying her down on the floor, crouching over her. “Y/N, it’s George, are you okay?” 

YN didn’t stir.

“You did so well, “ George said, his voice cracking as he lifted his hand to gently shut her eyes. “You got exactly what they needed, but it’s time to wake up now.”

Covering her mouth with her hand, Hermione reached out for Ron, who wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder. 

George tapped the side of her face. “Honey, it’s time to wake up, okay?”

All Harry could do was stare as Y/N’s husband stroked her hair. “She’s not breathing,” Harry said dumbly. “Why isn’t she breathing?”

George kept talking, as if he hadn’t heard him. “We’ll go home, and I’ll make you blueberry pancakes, how does that sound? All you have to do is open your eyes, come on baby, open those beautiful eyes for me.”

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, but there was no sign of her irises or pupils. Her eyes were completely clouded over, but unlike before, these clouds were growing darker and darker. “No, no, honey, you need to come back.” George’s voice steadily rose in volume as his wife remained unresponsive. “You don’t get to leave me this way!”

Hermione pressed her face into Ron’s chest, her shoulders shaking. Tears streaked down Ron’s face as he watched his brother try to revive his wife. 

“Wake up!” George’s voice was shrill. “This is not the end, you hear me? Wake up!”

Harry stepped forward, putting his hand on George’s shoulder, but George twisted away from him. He lifted his wife’s head, resting it in his lap. “C’mon, Y/N, show me those beautiful eyes.” A tear splashed onto Y/N’s cheek, and George swiped at his eyes. “I love you so much, Y/N, I do, so you can’t do this, you hear me?”

There was no acknowledgement, and the only movement in the entire room was from the jet black clouds in the mirror.

George’s head jerked up with a savage urgency, and the trio shrank away from him, but he wasn’t looking at them. “The mirrors,” he said to himself, like he was in a trance. Then, all at once, George surged to his feet, running towards the dark smoke.

“What are you–” Ron started to ask.

George’s fist collided with the mirror on the right, and the resulting harsh shattering sound made the trio wince and cover their ears. The fracture ran the length of the mirror, the cracks radiating out like a spider web. As George pulled his fist back to smash the next mirror, his raw knuckles caught the light. 

He didn’t seem to care about that, already ramming his hand into the center mirror. This time, a pained groan escaped from George’s lips as his skin split open, but he turned to the final mirror, determination in his drawn face as he delivered the last blow.

Smash!

As the ruptures appeared in the third mirror, a sharp inhale sounded from behind George. George spun around, fist still where he’d punched the mirror, just in time to see Y/N’s eyes flutter open, her irises back to their normal color.

Harry and Hermione sighed with relief, and Ron let out a: “Oh, thank Merlin.”

George merely fell to his knees and pulled Y/N’s head into his lap again. “What happened?” she rasped as she blinked up at her husband. “Where am I?”

“You’re okay,” George told her wetly, wiping his own tears off her face. “You used your catoptromancy to help my brother, but you’re good now.”

“Did it work?” Y/N mumbled, her eyelids sagging. 

George lifted his head to look at the trio. “Did you get what you needed?” 

Harry nodded, as if he didn’t trust his voice. 

George looked back to his wife. “Yes, it worked, you did such a good job, I’m so proud of you.”

“You’re proud?” she managed to say.

Her husband choked back a sob. “So, so proud.”

Y/N’s eyes fell closed, but a soft smile appeared on her face.

“George,” Ron said quietly, and George reluctantly looked up at his brother. “Look.”

George followed Ron’s gaze to the shattered mirrors.

They were once again reflecting like normal mirrors, but from every crack oozed a strange black liquid. It dripped down, streaking the broken mirrors and mixing with George’s blood. The group had never seen anything like it.

“Talk about seven years of bad luck,” George said with a shaky grin, but no one laughed.

-

When the group returned to George and Y/N’s house, George gently laid his wife on the couch. “You relax here, and I’ll go make some breakfast, okay?”

Y/N hummed, her eyes shutting as soon as her head fell on the pillow.

George watched her, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

He remembered the day they’d gotten this couch. They’d decided on the style, but they couldn’t decide on the color. George hadn’t wanted anything too light, because then it would get dirty too easily. On the flip side, Y/N hadn’t wanted anything too dark. We have too much gloominess in our lives already, she’d told him, before caving and letting him get the dark gray couch. 

Looking at her pallid face now, he knew she was right. 

Hermione and Harry stayed beside the couch, uneasily watching Y/N, but Ron followed George to the kitchen. Once George was out of sight of the living room, he gripped the counter, letting his head hang as he released a slow, tense breath.

“Are you okay?” Ron asked, quietly enough that his friends wouldn’t hear.

“What do you think?” George replied. 

Ron wisely kept his mouth shut, merely watching his brother struggle to collect his composure. 

“I wish I could say I’ll never let her do that again,” George said finally, “but I know that if you three showed up tomorrow asking for help, she’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

“I’m sorry,” was Ron’s reply, but it sounded as if he had no idea what he was apologizing for. 

George let out a sound halfway between amusement and disbelief. “If this was anybody’s fault, you’d bet I’d be hexing some eyebrows a neon pink right now.”

Ron shook his head, but couldn’t help his laugh. “George, I’m serious.”

His older brother looked at him. “You’re right. If I did that, Y/N would just shave off mine while I slept as payback.”

Ron knew George was trying to deflect using his most powerful weapon: his humor. Ron wanted to keep pressing his brother for some authenticity, but unfortunately, he knew if he were in this situation, he’d be handling it with far less grace than his older brother. 

With great effort, George started getting out the materials for pancakes. “Are the three of you staying for breakfast?”

“No,” Hermione said from behind Ron, who turned to see her standing beside Harry in the entryway of the kitchen. “We should probably go.”

George nodded as he poured a cup of flour into the bowl. “You have a cup to find.”

Nobody said anything. George measured three teaspoons of baking powder and dropped them into the bowl. 

“George,” Harry said, “if I’d known–”

“Shhhh.” The redhead didn’t look up from his mixing bowl, but his voice was reassuring. “You couldn’t have known, and Y/N wouldn’t want you beating yourself up over it.”

“But she could’ve died,” Harry burst out. “If you hadn’t been there or-or if I’d pushed any harder, who knows what could’ve happened?!”

George dusted his hands on his pants as he walked over to Harry. Harry tensed, as if he were preparing to take a punch, but George just wrapped his arms around him. Judging by the shocked look on Harry’s face, a hug was the last thing he expected. It took a moment before Harry hugged him back. 

George pulled away, earnesty all over his face. “She made the decision. Even if–” George’s voice faltered. “Even if it had ended in the worst possible way, she still would’ve gladly done it to help you.”

Harry looked down at the floor, guilt written all over his face. 

“Listen to me. She was right. If I were in her shoes and you told me I could’ve done something to help take down You-Know-Who, I would’ve done whatever I could to help you guys.” Hermione and Ron rested their hands on Harry’s back as George smiled at him. “You’re our best hope, Harry. Whatever we can do to keep the hope alive, we will.”

Harry nodded solemnly. “Will you…will you tell her ‘thank you’ when she wakes up? She was a huge help.” Ron and Hermione nodded vehemently. 

George grinned. “I’m not sure she’ll believe it, but I most certainly will tell her.” His expression turned stern. “I will also tell her that you won’t be asking her to use her catoptromancy again any time soon.”

Harry winced and nodded. George walked them to the front door. He gave Hermione a side-hug and shook Harry’s hand. Then, he turned to his little brother with a smile. 

Ron gave his brother a bear hug. “Stay alive, okay?”

“Same goes for you,” George replied. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

A mischievous smile appeared on Ron’s face. “So I have free reign to dye some eyebrows neon pink?”

George snorted. “Okay, fine, don’t do anything Percy wouldn’t do.” Ron smiled at his brother. “I’ll tell Mum and Dad I saw you and that you’re okay.”

Ron’s smile turned wistful, but Hermione took his hand, which seemed to steady him. The three of them walked down the path of the house, reaching the end of the lawn and waving before Disapparating. 

George stood watching the place they’d been. He knew his mother would shout at him and quite possibly box his ears for seeing Ron and letting Ron go. But George also knew that whatever they were doing would be crucial before the end. Still, his heart was heavy as he looked to the sky, the rising sun turning the clouds vibrant oranges and pinks. 

Slowly, he shut the door and returned to making pancakes.

George could’ve waved the wand safely stowed in his pocket and had the pancakes making themselves, but he wanted to linger in the kitchen.

For every bit he loved Y/N, it was hard to see his strong, self-sufficient wife so pale, so weak. George’d never been good at watching his loved ones be in pain, especially when there was nothing to be done about it except watch.

Pancakes were easy, and he knew that once he was done, he’d be drowning in his own helplessness again.

But when the fresh blueberry pancakes lay steaming on a plate, he knew it was time to go check on Y/N.

Her eyes were already open when he tentatively returned to the living room, and his stomach sank when he saw how still she lay. “Hey,” he said gently, kneeling beside the couch. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she said, in a voice far too frail for that statement to be true. 

“Let’s get some food in you, yeah?” Y/N nodded, and she tried to sit up. “Don’t you dare get up,” George barked. “I’ll bring it to you.” Y/N didn’t protest, and George brought her a plate drowning in syrup, just the way she liked her pancakes.

“Just one?” Y/N said with a frown, causing George to chuckle.

“If or when you finish it, I’ll bring you another.” He placed the fork in her hand, closing her fingers around it.

Y/N clumsily cut a piece of the pancake, the fork shaking as she raised the bite of breakfast to her mouth. Once her lips closed around the bite of food, her hand fell to her side, still clutching the fork. 

Wordlessly, George took the fork from her hand and cut the next bite. He fed her, slowly, allowing her all the time she needed to chew and swallow. Somehow, chewing and swallowing had never seemed so difficult—or so precious—before. 

“I must say,” George said with a smile, “I’m suddenly in love with the sounds of your chewing.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the soft smile on her face made him feel like he’d won a great big prize. The more she ate, he noticed with great satisfaction, the more the color returned to her face. When the plate was empty, Y/N sat back in her place against the arm of the couch, looking much better, much more alert. 

“Are you hungry for more?” George asked. Y/N shook her head. “Are you sleepy?” She shook her head again. The restlessness reared its ugly head. “Are there some socks you need ironed or perhaps some carpet that needs dusting?”

She laughed quietly, looking the very picture of contentment. “No, but you can hold me.”

George didn’t hesitate. He set the plate down on their coffee table and carefully laid in between the back of the couch and Y/N, wrapping his arms around her. She nestled into his arms and rested her head on his chest, a soft smile on her face. 

For a while, they were both silent. George watched the sunlight from the nearby window creep across the carpet. It should’ve been relaxing, just the two of them sitting here, awake, but not speaking. 

Unfortunately, George’s thoughts kept returning to the ordeal his wife had just endured. 

The woman in his arms, the love of his life, had almost died today. He’d almost lost this beautiful creature to the fearsome power lurking within that powerful mind of hers. Despite the fact that he did everything he could, it almost hadn’t been enough to bring her back.

The thought made him shudder and pull her closer to him.

“I’m not looking forward to reimbursing Galloglass for those mirrors,” he commented. 

Instead of laughing, Y/N twisted to face him, her hand catching his and bringing it up to her eyes to inspect the fresh damage to his knuckles. “Does this hurt?” she asked him, her voice small.

“Only about as much as a bite from a garden gnome,” George lied, because, really, they didn’t hurt, not at any level of pain worth mentioning.

Y/N began running a finger down his cheek, tracing the path of his earlier tears. “Are you okay?”

George felt trapped, trying to find some way around the question. “I should be asking you that,” he said. 

“You already have, so now it’s my turn.” 

Darn his wife for knowing him so well. 

She rested a hand on his jaw, soothingly running her thumb across his cheek. “Are you okay?” she repeated.

With a shuddering breath, George buried his face into her neck. “No,” he replied, his voice muffled. 

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, one of her arms winding around his waist. 

“Can you just give me a second?” Y/N’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “I just need us to stay like this,” George clarified, his grip on her tightening. “Just for a little while.”

Y/N lifted a hand, starting to run her hands through his hair. “Okay.” She kissed his cheek. “Okay, we’ll just stay like this.”

Neither of them said anything for a while, and slowly, George felt the knots in his stomach loosen. Nothing healed him so well as proximity to his wife. 

But he felt himself getting antsy, his brain begging for some humor to relieve the emotional charge in the room. “I’m getting rid of this couch,” he finally said. “You’re right, it’s too depressing.” He didn’t need to tell her that it wasn’t due to the color, but due to this whole night. 

He waited for an I-told-you-so, but when Y/N didn’t answer, he looked down to see her eyes shut and her breathing even. 

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead, breathing in the smell of her hair. “You get to pick the next couch,” he promised her. “Stick with me, and I’ll get you all the couches in the world.”

-

If you enjoyed this, please reblog and read my other George Weasley fanfic called Is It Still Punishment if It Was Worth It?

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle​ @valiantlytransparentwhispers​

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x y/n #reader insert #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #protective #divination #magic!reader #wife!reader

[fluffthecloud]

Their Soulmate

Weasley Twins x Male Reader

Summary: Reader has a big soulmate mark on his back unlike other people who have a small one on their arm, but he never really cared. You are a Hufflepuff (sorry if you wanted to be in a different house)

Genre: Fluff

Request: ✖️

Warning: N/A

Notes: based on an Ao3 I tagged in the last part, also read the last part too to get an idea of where I left off.

Tags: @jasperthechaosgremlin @stucky4life1945 @smol-book-nerd

Pt 1 pt.3

It was the next day, there weren't any classes today to give the first years time to find their classes and to get a good feel of the school. Y/N, and the twins were just walking around together, they may be in different houses but after the train ride Y/N could not get rid of them.

"So, Y/N, what's your next class?" Fred asked peeking over your shoulder at your class list.

"Astronomy with Aurora Sinister." You said looking over at Fred, "why don't you guys go find your classes? It'll go a lot faster that way." You were confused about why they were following you around.

"Oh, isn't he just cute?" George teased looking at Fred then you, "all first years have the same classes just different schedules." George explained to you. This made you embarrassed to say the least, but then again you were the oldest(or only) child, and your parents never told you what Hogwarts was like.

"He is, George." Fred wraps his arm around your shoulder, "a lot of our classes stay the same for the first few years but that's about all we know."

You nod along, a bit confused but you understand most of it. None the less they made it to Y/N's next class and just took a look inside, "this place is really cool." You commented. Before you could get a chance to walk around you were being dragged out of the room by the twins.

As you exited the room, the three of you saw Percy, so you went up to him, "Hey Percy!" The twins say as they go up to him, you just wave at him, "guess what, Percy." George says as they walked down the hall.

"What is it?" Percy asked waving back at you.

"We share two of our classes with Y/N." Fred finishes the sentence, "we do share other classes with him, but only two with just all three of us." Fred added, he seemed really excited about that.

"Oh? Well what are those two classes?" Percy asked, smiling at his brothers excitement.

Notes: I would like you guys to pick the two classes they share, because it's always potions and that's boring but if you want that then so be it, but there is another class you can pick so there flavor. Also sorry that this is so short.

#george weasley #fred weasley #weasley twins #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x male reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley x male reader #male reader #reader insert

[distantdarlings]

The Space In Which We Breathe // g. weasley

RATING: PG-13 / 1.3k words

George Weasley x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details)

✴ Summary - After a long study session, you decide to act on some long-lived feelings you've had for George Weasley since Year One. *George's POV* (Implied Smut)

✴ Warnings - Language, tension, sensuality, heavy kissing, and light petting. Smutty but no actual smut.

✴ Music (listened to while writing):

Want You So Bad - The Vaccines

"George," you spoke his name, your voice barely above a whisper. For a moment, it seemed that he maybe hadn't heard you. His eyes flickered over to you and when he saw yours staring directly at him, he took pause. His lips parted as if to say something

With a short breath, you ran a trembling hand through your hair. You let the Astronomy textbook slide off of your lap and get to your feet.

George watched as you slowly walked over to him, wringing your fingers nervously the whole way. The knuckles on your hands turned white like vanilla ice cream, like how George thought you might taste. Though he’d never tell you that.

You stopped in front of him, staring down, chewing your lips to pieces. George wanted to know what you were so nervous about but, for some reason, seeing your shaking lips made his trousers tighten a bit. He shook that thought away, breaking eye contact with you.

You ignored the slight deflation in your heart and placed your hands on either side of George’s head, pressing down on the back of the couch. Your knees went on either side of George’s thighs as his face came dangerously close to your own.

You hovered over him, a strand of your hair hanging daintily between the two of you, slightly tickling George’s forehead.

The boy exhaled shakily, his lower lip trembling with every hesitant breath. He smelled like mint and smoke, the scent was intoxicating. It filled your head, dragging your eyes closed. You could see the tops of the trees outside and the silhouette of the castle against a gentle white sky, despite the blackness on the other side of the windows.

The strong fire in the corner flickered against George’s glass skin, making him seem all the more desirable. The ginger boy fought to keep his hands down by his sides, despite wanting so badly to touch your hips, your chest, your neck...

You conjured up a bit of courage and found his eyes once more. "Well, do something," you whispered breathlessly, the tip of your nose coming down to brush the older’s.

George could feel the burn in his throat as he swallowed thickly. His heart sped up in his chest and an odd pain claimed his shoulders, making him all of a sudden very restless. Six years of pining after you and this how your awkward, tension-filled relationship came to a head? You two were just going to…do it? George didn’t know if he’d make it. Shouldn’t he take you on a date first?

You took in a breath, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and gently entangling your fingers in his hair with the other. Your hips rose up a bit so you could press your chest closer to the boy's. George’s neck was craned to see the beauty that was clinging so tightly and innocently to him.

"Please . . . ," you gasped, your grip tightening in George’s hair. Even if this wasn't how he'd wanted to touch your soft body for the first time and how he'd wanted to confess, he'd take it. He pressed his lips harshly against yours, pulling his hands up between the two of you to softly grip your face.

You let a light moan slip out, like a breath of relief as your hold tightened on George. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing the tips of his fingers to the small of your back. He reveled in the feeling of your soft body pressed to his. He never wanted to leave this sofa, in this common room, in this castle, at this moment. He wanted to stay here forever, feeling his lips and yours relieve years of tension.

George’s lungs melted within his chest into a mushy mess of blood and flesh. He had imagined feeling you against him for so long; had imagined his tongue painting a landscape within your mouth. George loved your slightly chapped lips scratching against his own, feeling the rough skin crack against his teeth and bleed onto his tongue.

You inhaled deeply, struggling to obtain a breath with his mouth pressed so violently to yours. Your fingers tightened even more in George’s hair, attempting to pull yourself even closer to the boy you’d desired for so long.

George separated your lips and placed his to your neck. His tongue arched longingly over your throat and collarbones. You exhaled shakily at the feeling. George could listen to that sound for the rest of eternity. A breeze of confidence injected itself into his mind at your reactions.

"So fucking gorgeous," George breathed against your skin. He’d planned telling you how beautiful you were for longer than he could remember and the ease with which he got it out just now was shocking. Your breath hitched as he pulled your hips even closer.

George struggled to contain himself as he gripped your beautiful body and pressed his lips more and more against you. He had wanted for so long to touch you, to feel your flesh beneath his fingers, to taste you on his tongue, to hear you breathe out his name…

George propped his hands beneath your thighs, feeling your grip tighten around his shoulders. He gently brought you to the rug in front of the fire. A flash of sense popped across his mind. You two were in the common room and anyone could walk in at any point, but it didn’t seem like you cared, and with the amount of desperation racing through his veins right now…he didn’t really care, either. He brought his lips back up to yours, tracing his tongue along your teeth.

You tugged at his shirt, attempting to pull it up over his head. He obliged and felt the fabric slide against the length of his back. In the absence of the material, he felt the soft caress of the flames in the corner and your nails digging sharply into his flesh.

George quickly got to work on the buttons down the middle of your uniform shirt. His fingers fumbled over the first four, opening the material just enough for easier access. He dragged his lips and tongue down your chest, tasting his salty-sweet flesh. Your scent overwhelmed his senses making the heat in his stomach increase tenfold.

He wondered what he could have ever done to deserve you. The gorgeous specimen with the soft, luscious hair and the sharp, crystalline features. The same beautiful hair that you tied up in a small knot at the back of your head when studying, and the same features that peaked out over shirt collars and waistbands, teasing George with every flash.

His fingers touched everywhere, savoring the feeling of his weight over your body. He glanced up at you and admired the view. Your eyebrows were screwed together in frustration and your lips were parted in a silent moan. His hand reached up to touch your sweaty hair and felt the way it stuck to your forehead as you keened for more of the boy’s touch.

"Merlin, George, do something," you groaned, the words barely slipping from your lips. George covered your gorgeous mouth with his own, wanting you to shut up. He loved to hear the sounds that came from you, but he didn't want to rush this. He had been imagining this moment for fucking years. He’d dreamed of being able to touch you in this way—he was fed up with the awkward, platonic hand touches and congratulatory hugs, he wanted to kiss your neck as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

"Patience," he whispered against your lips.

"Merlin, are you a fucking fortune cookie?" You spat, bucking your hips up into George’s. The boy groaned lowly at the contact, chuckling at your desperation and your silly muggle references. Not even Merlin--or fortune cookies--were going to screw this up for him. George smirked and pressed your hips back down.

He leaned down and slowly slid your skirt down your hips, letting the fabric pool around your ankles. You kicked them off as George climbed back onto you, ever so slightly touching his hips to yours. You let a moan slip from your mouth followed by a string of muffled curse words.

"Fuck you, George Weasley.”

“With pleasure, darling.”

#george weasley #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #harry potter #gryffindor #weasley twins #reader insert #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley x reader

[ladypearl333]

what i imagine dating george weasley in the fall is like🎧🎧

#george weasley #george weasly x reader #weasley wednesday #harry potter #hp universe #headcanon #weasley twins #imagines #reader insert #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts fanfiction

[stardustchord]

Imagine if You Knew ༄

✧ date: 05/27/2022

✧ pairing: george weasley x gn!reader

✧ summary: You accidentally stumble upon your friend, George Weasley, pleasuring himself. As you turn to leave before he notices you, you hear the unmistakeable groan of your name escape his lips, unaware of his current audience.

✧ word count: 5.1 k

✧ warnings: [18+ DNI if you are a minor] contains smut, fluff, explicit language, masturbation, unknowingly being watched during sexual acts (although not in a perverted way), being caught masturbating, sex in Ron's bed (not intentional, I swear), choking kink, hair-pulling kink (blink and you'll miss it), mentions of asexuality, lots of crying and nervousness from the reader (and therefore lots of comforting from Georgie), uses the terms "Y/N" and "beautiful" (in the gender-neutral sense).

✧ a/n: Not only is this my first finished fic, but it's my first smut writing. It's proof-read, but probably not that well. Please be kind <3

⁂ find my masterlist here ⁂

┕━━━━━━━━☝︎━━━━━━━━┙

✎ He was oblivious to what was happening around him.

And, you guess, so were you.

You had been working for George and Fred Weasley at their shop for over a year now, and it was where you spent most of your extra time. You had originally used the excuse that you needed some extra money to buy supplies for the school year, but after spending every day after school there, and the entirety of summer break so far- even when the twins gave you a day off- they eventually caught on that you were there simply because you loved spending time with them.

The three of you had become a practically inseparable trio, and the best of friends. Teasing and romantic jokes from your peers had become normal at this point, and you stopped thinking too hard about them after you realized that nothing you could do would prevent them. You weren’t phased anymore, because you were just friends, and therefore didn’t have anything to be embarrassed about.

You had thought about possibly pursuing a relationship with one of them, but the kind of love you felt for them wasn’t exactly what others had described. It was a sort of unconditional love- a comforting, warm feeling that made you feel at home. Everyone else had described butterflies, nerves, beating hearts, arousal… And why would you spend your time thinking and dating when you could just keep spending time with them the way you already were? You were content with your current friendship, and besides, it’s not like either of the twins wanted anything more, either. At least, that you knew of. You never thought to ask, because you didn’t want to ruin what you already had.

But, Godric. Imagine if you knew what you were about to find out today.

It was a regular, sunny summer day. You and Fred were going to be late to the shop this afternoon, making George the only one in the store for about an hour. Fred was meeting up with Lee for whatever scheming they had planned, and you were supposed to have summer tutoring with Professor Lupin. Lupin ended up having to cancel at the last minute, so you headed to the shop at your normal time. Most people would’ve used the extra hour before work to go relax or have fun, but to you, the shop was your happy place, and you looked forward to working there every day.

As you approached the front of the store, you thought that it seemed strangely dark inside. Peeking in the window, then rattling the locked handles, you realized that the store was… closed? That didn’t make any sense, Georgie should already be working now. You pointed your wand at the door and whispered the spell to unlock the handles, propping open the doors and turning on the lights.

You hadn’t opened the store by yourself before, but you were sure that the twins wouldn’t mind. They trusted you and you knew the store like the back of your hand. Not to mention, the longer the shop was open, the more money you all could bring in to help the Weasley family. After all they’ve done for you, the least you can do to repay them is run the shop by yourself for a while.

You waited at the front of the store for a few minutes, bored out of your mind. Usually people were stopping by at this time, but still no one had visited the shop. It was obviously a slow day, so you thought to yourself,

Why don’t I go in the back and start unpacking some of the boxes in the back? Godric knows that the twins are awful about stocking new merchandise as soon as it comes in.

You spent a few minutes diligently cataloging and organizing the new items, when you suddenly heard a soft rustling noise coming from the left side of the store in upstairs area. You froze, listening carefully. There it was again- a strange, quiet shifting noise.

Merlin, did one of the pygmies get out again?

Of course this would happen when you were running the store alone… Those things were nearly impossible for only one person to catch.

You sighed and headed up the stairs with a box in your hands, ready to trap it in a corner so the twins could help you put it back once they arrived. You moved slowly and quietly, trying your best to keep the pygmy puff from realizing you were coming to get it. As you finally reached the top of the stairs, you discovered what was really making the noises.

There, on the couch on the left side of the room, the only resting spot in the store, was George Weasley. He was sprawled across the sofa, his legs spread, pants unbuckled, head back, eyes closed, one hand wrapped around his neck and the other hand wrapped around his… Oh, Merlin. You felt your brain turn fuzzy as it finally dawned on you what was happening in front of you. The pace of his hand was slow, pumping himself, swiping his fingers over his tip every few seconds to collect the droplets of precum that were forming there. The hand around his throat was choking most of his sounds, causing his breathing to escape in quiet little gasps.

So this is why he hadn’t opened the shop yet.

You swallowed thickly, feeling a sudden rush of heat forming in the pit of your stomach. You were completely mesmerized by the view in front of you- the way his bright red hair was falling around his face, the veins and muscles in his hands and arms, the sweat beading on his pale skin, the soft, almost-silent groaning coming from his throat… Your knees were weak as you watched him, completely oblivious to his new audience.

This is wrong, I need to-

Your hand reached up to rub your eyes, snapping you out of your paralyzed state. You turned around, feeling the redness in your face, and quickly but quietly went to head back down the steps, when…

“Y/N-”

Your eyes snapped back to the couch, afraid that he had finally seen you, and you felt panic setting in. But as you studied him, he was just as blind as before, eyes still tightly closed. His hand was now moving faster around himself, his hips bucking into the air involuntarily.

“Fuck yes, Y/N…”

He wasn’t calling you. He was imagining you. Your mouth went dry.

Is- was he- does he like me? Well, obviously he does, or else he wouldn’t be moaning my name as he jerked himself off.

You shook your head furiously.

No, no, this isn’t- 

You had never imagined that either of the twins could like you.

How many times has he done this?

Your head suddenly started pounding.

It’s none of my fucking business.

You silently descended down the stairs, grabbed your things, turned off the lights, locked the doors, and left the store. You stopped outside of the shop, your mind clouded and racing with thoughts.

What if he saw me leave? What if he knew I was there? What if he wanted me to stay? What if- No, I need to stop. I shouldn’t have seen that, shouldn’t have known about that. 

You looked at the sidewalk in front of the shop, and set your stuff and yourself down.

I know, I’ll just wait for Freddie to come back to the shop. He shouldn’t be that long. That way I can still work later, like I promised, but I don’t have to bother George. Sounds like a great plan. A perfect, fool-proof plan to make sure that… 

That you didn’t have to be alone with George. 

Godric.

Your mind drifted back to what you had just witnessed, and you felt the heat pooling between your legs, butterflies forming where you had never felt them before.

No, no, no. This isn’t fair. We’re just friends. And even if I wanted us to be something more…

A little voice nagged in the back of your mind. Come on, you know that you would have dated him if he asked. He was always the more attractive of the twins, and his personality fit perfectly with yours. If he would’ve kissed you, trailed his hand along your back, held you up by your lower waist while he sucked on the sensitive spot of your neck, brushed his hands between your thighs, asked you to open your legs for him, asked you if he could feel you where you wanted him most… You wouldn’t have said no.

Godric.

Why is this happening to you? You never thought anything like this before. But fuck, apparently George had. You squeezed your legs together and brought a textbook out of your bag, fumbling through the pages awkwardly, trying anything to get your mind off of what was filling your head.

After what felt like the longest period of time in your life, you were greeted by a sauntering Fred Weasley heading towards the shop. As he got closer, he gave you a confused look.

“Hey, Y/N, why aren’t you in the shop yet?” he asked you.

You looked up at him from where you sat. “Uh, the store’s- it’s locked?”

Fred looked behind you and frowned. “Well that’s strange. George should be here already.”

He proceeded to go through the motions of opening the store, doing everything that you had already done once that day. “George?” Fred called out, heading to the back of the store. “George, are you in here?”

As the two of you rounded the corner, you saw George kneeling in front of the boxes you were unpacking earlier. Fuck. You forgot to move them back to where you found them in your haste to leave. If George noticed anything strange, he sure didn’t show it in his face. You tried your best to glance at the boxes nonchalantly, as if they were something you couldn’t care less about.

Fred crossed his arms, obviously annoyed that his brother was there, but had kept the door closed. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing back here in the dark?” he asked the twin. 

George responded, as casual as always, saying “I just thought that I should unpack some of these boxes before we opened today, since we’re so behind on them, Freddie. Besides, it’s no fun actually having the store open when you two aren’t here.”

He gave you a smile and a wink, something he had done a thousand times before, but something that had a much different meaning now.

“Fine,” said Fred, “but I’m going to set up the front of the store so we can actually try to get some customers in here.”

He walked away quickly, and you followed after him like a lost puppy, desperate to not be left alone with George any longer. But the next thing you know, Fred was out to retrieve some extra material for signs from home, and you and Georgie were left alone upstairs, shelving and tidying items right by the couch. You were trying your best to act normal, but you felt like you might burst into tears any second, the guilt weighing heavily on your heart.

George had realized that something was wrong the moment you had come in with Fred, and decided that it would be better to ask you about it now, while you two were alone. He set down the box he was holding gently and reached down to hold your hand, causing you to turn to him and look in his eyes.

Godric, how had you never noticed how beautiful he really was? And the way he looked at you… How could you not realize that he liked you? Fred never looked at you this way.

“You alright, love?” he said, softly. “Something seems to be bothering you.”

Your eyes immediately glanced towards the ground as you felt tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. “I, um…”

What am I supposed to say in a situation like this?

“You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t ready to talk right now. I would never want to put you in a position where you aren’t comfortable. But, if you’d like to talk about it- about anything- I’m always here,” he reassured you.

The tears dripped down your cheeks, the guilt making you feel sick to your stomach. “I- I can’t talk about it now. But I want to. At some point.”

George looked at you with sadness in his eyes, before bringing you into his chest, hugging you tightly. “Whatever you want, love,” he whispered in your ear.

At that moment, Fred burst through the door, babbling with Ron about the new advertising ideas he had. You broke free from your friend and wiped your eyes quickly, making sure to hide any evidence of your upset nature from Ron and Freddie.

The rest of the afternoon crawled by, and you couldn’t wait to leave the store and head back to your summer dorm. However, just as you were about to escape, Fred approached you and gave you a friendly squeeze on your arm.

“Hey, Y/N, how about joining us at the Burrow tonight? Mum and Dad haven’t seen you yet this summer, and I’m sure that Ginny misses you too. Mum’s making pot pies and soup, I can have her whip up another plate for you.” He smiled down at you.

You gave him a small smile back, about to let him know that you’ll probably just head back to school for the evening, when George came up beside his brother.

“I did have that satchel that you wanted to borrow, darling. Even if you don’t want to stay for dinner, you could come by and pick it up if today’s a good time for you,” he chimed in.

You looked at them and, Godric, how could you say no? You love spending time at the Burrow. A small nod was enough of an answer for them, as they each hooked an arm around yours, and led you home.

It was time for dinner in the Weasley household, and despite the plate of delicious food in front of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat a single bite. Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley were quietly discussing their days, somehow hearing only each other through the ruckus of the room. Percy was listening to them, chiming in a thought or two every few minutes. Ginny was calmly enjoying her food while Ron’s actions were the polar opposite- scarfing down his plate as quickly as he could, not paying attention to anything else. Fred and George were talking to each other loudly, about literally everything that came to their minds.

You found yourself drifting into thought as you watched them and their movements… Or specifically, George’s. His actions were so confident and subconscious, the way he was able to find and pick up his cup and raise it to his lips, while having 100% his focus on his twin and their conversation. The way the muscles under his skin moved smoothly, the way he pushed up his sleeves past his elbows as he bent his arms. The way his hand was fixed around the glass, gentle but firm, his fingers grazing over the ridges of the cylinder, just like-

“And how was your day, my dear?”

Mrs. Weasley’s question immediately snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked up from your plate nervously, and into the kind, caring, and oblivious eyes of the head of the household. The rest of the table slowly faded out their own conversations, making sure they weren’t interrupting their guest. Moments like these were usually comforting, but the pang of guilt made your stomach turn.

Oh, Mrs. Weasley, if only you knew.

You set down your fork gently, glancing at your barely-touched plate of food. “It was fine, Mrs. Weasley, but I’m actually not feeling the greatest right now. Do you mind if I excuse myself?” you asked.

You noticed Mr. Weasley nod in the corner of your eye, and Mrs. Weasley gave you a sympathetic smile. “Of course, darling. Head upstairs and rest awhile before you head home, if you need to lay down, feel free to use Ronald’s room.”

Ron stopped chewing just long enough to shoot his mother an annoyed glance. “If you’re going to let them use my room, can I at least finish their food?” he asked, grumbling through his full mouth.

Mrs. Weasley scowled at the boy, about to tell him off, but you couldn’t stand being there any longer. You gave Ron a small smile before handing him your plate. “Here you go, Ron. And thank you so, so much. I promise I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I feel like heading home.”

You felt the eyes of the family burning into your soul, as if they knew your thoughts and regrets. However, the table, much to your relief, resumed their normal chatter as you left the kitchen and started upstairs.

You gently pushed the door to Ron’s room open, staring at the moonlight peeking through the window and lighting up his bed. You walked over to it and sat down, exhausted. When your body finally registered that you were alone, the tears started to flow, soaking your cheeks.

You didn’t even know why you were crying then, the harm was done. The incident was over. You just felt so… disgusting. Why did you have to see that? Why was that the way you had to discover Georgie’s feelings for you? Why did your body have that reaction to what you saw? You knew it was natural, knew that it should’ve been pleasurable, but you felt as if you committed a crime. Both of you were keeping a secret about each other, but yours was making you feel like a horrible person.

How am I supposed to fix this?

Every time you looked at him, the only thing you could see was him sitting in the most beautiful position you had ever seen him in. And when you closed your eyes, the images of his movements and the sound of him moaning your name were the only things that occupied your brain.

So what if…

You shifted positions on the bed, feeling the friction you made between your legs. Humming softly, you laid your back down, spreading your own legs just like you had seen George doing, trailing a hand down across your body, down to where you needed to be touched most…

If the feelings weren’t going to go away, if the thoughts weren’t going to subside, you might as well make the best of it. You turned your guilt and disgust into pleasure, giving into your own fantasies, imagining George pleasing himself as you were doing now. And, just like he had moaned your name earlier…

“Georgie-” your hips arched as you imagined him fucking you slowly, whispering your name into your ear, feeling every inch of your body… “George…”

“Y/N?”

George’s voice suddenly burst through your bubble of ecstasy, as you watched the doorknob to the room turn. He was about to enter at any moment, and Godric, how could you let this happen? You were struggling to get your bottoms back on, to fix your hair and- the door was opening, and you desperately covered your lower half with the blanket on the bed.

George walked through the door, and you felt your face turn red as he stared at you for a moment. You were a mess- your hair was all over the place, your face flushed, half of your clothes on the bed, your hands clutching the comforter that now sheltered where your clothes once were. You were panting desperately, trying to catch your breath, but you that he could tell exactly what was occupying your time moments earlier.

George swallowed, realizing what he had done. He was frozen, and you recognized the look on his face- it mirrored the terror that you had felt in the shop earlier that day. He looked at the ground, ashamed, before backing out and trying to close the door behind him.

“I’ll, uh-” He stumbled over his words, the usual suave Weasley personality nowhere to be seen. “I’m so sorry to interrupt you, I- I’ll leave you be.”

With your heart pounding, you stopped him. “Wait, no, Georgie-”

He stopped moving and looked up at you.

“I don’t- I don’t want you to- I need to talk to you.” You stuttered on almost every word you spoke, desperately trying to figure out where this conversation should be going.

George stepped back into the room, closing the door behind him. “Alright, I mean, if that’s what you want.”

You moved your clothes awkwardly and patted on the bed next to you. You were both embarrassed, the air hanging heavily in the room. He joined you, sitting on the comforter, still avoiding eye contact as much as possible. You took a deep breath before starting your conversation.

“I… I saw you earlier today,” you said.

George looked at you. “What do you mean, love? We both saw each other today, at the shop, when we were working.”

“No, I-” You ran your hands over your face in a sad attempt to hide your guilty expression. “When you were on the couch in the store, when you thought no one else was there. When… when you were touching…” Your words trailed off, unable to finish your sentence.

As you looked up at the boy sitting next to him, you felt horrible. His face was redder than you had ever seen it before, as he finally realized why you were acting so strange all day. 

“Is- is that why you were upset?” he asked you.

Your eyes started filling with tears again, as all the overwhelming emotions you hated came flooding back. “I am so, so sorry, Georgie. I didn’t know you were there, and then I saw you, and I heard my name and I was so embarrassed, and I didn’t want to watch you without your consent, so I just- I just left and pretended that nothing happened.” You rambled on, not able to control your tears or your ragged breathing.

George looked at you, heartbroken that you felt so embarrassed, then clutched you in a tight hug. You breathed a heavy sigh, relieved by the action. It meant that he wasn’t angry at you. It meant that he didn’t hate you.

Determined to get everything off your chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist and continued, tears soaking his shirt. “And I was so scared and guilty, because I felt like I suddenly only wanted you just for sex, and it made me feel so gross, and so I thought- I thought that if I… if I made myself feel good when thinking about it, then I would- I wouldn’t feel so disgusted by what I did. But I was wrong, Georgie, it was wrong, and I am so, so sorry.”

He gave you a kiss on the top of your head, and stroked your hair. “Quiet, love. It’s okay. I never meant to make you feel this way. I have-” he hesitated. “I have liked you for quite a long time, for your personality, your humor, your kindness, and yes-” he laughed softly, embarrassed, “-your body, love. I think that you are the most beautiful person that I have ever seen, and although I wouldn’t ever want to rush things with you, I will admit that I have fantasized about you.”

You laughed and wiped your eyes as you looked up at him. “Me?”

“Of course, love. You’re stunning, and you make me feel things that I’ve never felt before. Both in my heart, and, annoyingly enough, in other places. But I keep those thoughts to myself, and I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable because of them. I would want to make sure that you liked me, as well, before I ever revealed those things to you.”

He was so kind and patient with you, and the familiar warmth that you experienced around him was slowly coming back. He laughed a little louder this time as he held your hand in his. “I guess I massively messed up that plan, didn’t I?”

“No, Georgie,” you replied, quietly. “I messed that up.”

He gently moved your chin so were looking at him in the eyes. “How about this, love. Neither of us messed this up. It was just a series of unfortunate events, alright?”

You nodded at him, completely enveloped in his atmosphere. After a few moments, you whispered, “Georgie? I think I like you. I wasn’t sure of it before, I hadn’t even really thought of it before. But I think that I was trying to compare my feelings to what other people have described. Like, how Neville felt about Luna, or how Hermoine feels about Ron… But I don’t know- that- that doesn’t feel right. I mean, how other people have relationships. I like where we’re at. I like how we’re friends. But I want to be yours. I want to spend my time with you and… love you.”

George looked at you, paying attention to every word you spoke. “Love, do you know what asexuality is?”

“I think so? That’s what Charlie is, right?” you asked him.

“Mhm. Do you think that you might be asexual, as well?”

“I dunno, Georgie. Honestly, I don’t think so. I haven’t really thought about it. Because I am attracted to you, and I do want a relationship with you. If you want that, too.”

George cupped your cheek, leaning in close. “Can I?”

You nodded, giving him permission to kiss you. He brought his lips to yours gently, and it was the best thing you had ever felt. It was soft, but deep, and your hands wandered and found their resting place behind his head. His eyes were closed, feeling every moment of the kiss, stroking your face with his thumb. And it felt right. Whole. Warm.

Without thinking, you pressed your lips harder into his, parting your mouth slightly. Your fingers wrapped themselves around his hair as he shifted closer to your body, wanting to fill every space between the two of you. When he slipped his tongue into your mouth, you felt your heart jump, and instinctually tugged at his hair lightly.

A groan escaped his throat when you did so, and he pulled away as soon as the noise came out. Bright red blush crept across his pale skin once again, and you let out a nervous laugh. “You like that, Georgie?”

He nodded, relieved, then hungrily brought his head to you again, placing your hand in his hair like it was. Now that he knew that you were fine with this- with the two of you- he could hardly contain himself. He was shuffling around the bed, laying you on your back gently, about to move the blanket away from your body when-

“George?” Mrs. Weasley’s footsteps were slowly climbing up the stairs, obviously looking for her son.

George winked at you and covered your body with the comforter before standing and fixing his disheveled hair. He swiftly left the room, closing the door behind him with a click. 

“There you are George, your father’s looking for you. I think he wants your help with something.”

George’s voice, deeper than normal, floated through the wall. “Hey, Mum? Y/N still isn’t feeling the greatest, and I don’t know if they’ll be able to make it home tonight.”

You could hear the concern in Mrs. Weasley’s voice, but your guilt wasn’t pestering you any longer. “Oh, the poor dear. I’ll let Ronald know that he’ll need to find somewhere else to sleep tonight, maybe with-”

George softly interrupted her, “I know Ron wasn’t too pleased earlier, Mum, so I can stay with Y/N in his room tonight. That way Ron can have a room to himself tonight.”

The anxiety left Mrs. Weasley’s voice, and relief flooded her words. “Thank you George, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. Please tell Y/N that I hope they feel better soon, and make sure you get a good night’s rest as well. I’ll let your father know that you’ll help him tomorrow.”

As you heard Mrs. Weasley head back downstairs, you sat up, suddenly nervous again. George knocked softly on the door before he entered the room again. This time, you felt your heart flutter when you noticed his eyes light up at you.

“Hey, love.” He softly clicked the lock behind him. “We won’t be bothered again.”

He flashed you his iconic Weasley smile as he climbed back onto the bed, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, eager to resume what the two of you had started. You felt your breath hitch as you saw his eyes grow dark, and you suddenly remembered what he was doing to himself earlier… what he obviously enjoyed.

You reached up to the collar of his shirt, gently moving his tie out from under the folds of the fabric, but leaving it around his neck. With one swift movement, you wrapped the tie around your hand and tugged it tighter, bringing his neck closer to you. George’s eyes rolled ever so slightly back, and in this position, you could finally see just how aroused he was through his trousers.

“Merlin…” he whispered.

Once he was used to the new feeling on his throat, he looked down at you, smirking. “You want to play this game, love? Since you already know my secrets, well…” He dipped his head down to your collarbone, nipping at the skin before kissing it sweetly. “I’ll just have to explore every inch of your body until I find out what makes you scream.”

He was moving the blanket away from your body, gently removing your shirt, kissing down your chest, down your stomach, down to-

“Georgie?” Your voice was breathless, aroused, but soft, scared of his reaction.

He immediately stopped what he was doing and looked you in the eyes, worried that he had done something to make you uncomfortable.

“I- I don’t want…”

George changed positions so he wasn’t on top of you anymore, afraid he would overwhelm you. Sitting next to you, he brought a hand up to stroke your cheek. “What is it, love? Use your words. I’m all ears.”

You swallowed, gathering as much courage as you could so you tell him your concerns. “I don’t want things to change.”

George gave you a small smile. “The only thing that will change is how happy we make each other. Because it’s now my goal to make you feel more loved than you have ever felt in your life. How about that?”

You felt your heart melt, and your fears dissolved with it. “I’d love that, Georgie.”

“I’d like that too, my love. Now, you want to continue what we started?”

A nod was all the confirmation he needed.

#18+ only #minors dni #smut #harry potter smut #harry potter #weasley smut #george weasley #george weasley smut #george weasley fluff #george weasley fanfic #harry potter fanfic #george weasley x you #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #gender neutral insert #gender neutral reader #weasley family #harry potter fanfiction #hp fandom #harry potter fic #george weasley blurb #weasley twins #fred and george #self insert #self insert smut #harry potter self insert #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #my writing #writers of tumblr

[cherry-pop-elf]

🧹 Training 🧹

George Weasley X Wheelchair Reader GN (Warning: Fluff)

“Easy-!” You laughed, as George was zipping you through the hallways of the castle. Was your own fault for trusting a Weasley with the reigns of your chair. A Weasley twin no less. On the bright side, you always got to your destinations faster then if you pushed yourself on your own. Was nice to give your arms a break. Hogwarts wasn’t the friendliest with your chair, so George offering help was nice. You couldn’t help but feel guilty that someone had to push you everywhere, but that Weasley Charm washed it all the way. “I need to practice my speed, if we want to defeat Slytherin next week.” George would laugh off your protest, as he made a sharp turn around the corner. Nearly sent you both flying, but he always managed to keep your chair down on the ground. “GEORGE-!” Even in your panic, there was a thrill. A thrill of just being two friends having fun. “Do me a favor and gain some weight. You are WAY to easy to push around. No resistance at all!” He scoffed, as you two were soon zooming through the courtyard. The target being the wooden bridge. You wondered how your wheels haven’t popped a flat yet. “If you want to ask me out, just say so-!” You tried to meet his energy, as you held on for dear life. Watching as the evening light flickered through the wooden beams of the shelter. The distant sound of the water fluttering between the thumps of your chair on the floor boards. “Nah, I’ve never been one who’s direct~!” He teases, with ease, leaving you warm in the face from his remarks. How he was able to still talk steady, while doing so much running, is yet another mystery for Hogwarts to hold. Was just perfect, until you both forgot about the bump at the end of the bridge. Where the wooden boards meet earth. It was a total wipe out, as you were suddenly on the ground. Staring up at the sky, as your wheelchair toppled over. Nothing Repairo can’t fix. You sat up, and shook your head. You experience more pain in just putting on pants then going flying down a hill. With a look around, you would see George having his share in the crash. Face full of dirt, as his Quidditch uniform was muddied up. “If you need the wheelchair, get your own.” You warned, but did hold some worry. Sure, he plays Quidditch, but empathy is empathy. “You good?” You asked, getting a thumbs up. “Good, now get me back in my chair. Think you broke something-“ Was nice to joke about your issues. So many people would get uncomfortable whenever you talked about being disabled. George was always able to meet your energy. Make you feel normal. Like right now. How he got up, tossed his long hair back, and stuck his tongue out at you. “Your arms work! Just crawl!” He cackled, as you have a dramatic flop. “But I am so helpless, weak, fragile. Oh, I see the light-!” You sobbed, as you reached for the sky. “Alright alright. Can’t have you leave me behind like that. I’ll get lonely.” George would playfully kick your side, before fixing your chair for you. Making sure the wheels were on tight, before easily hoisting you up in his arms. Those Quidditch Players. So strong. “Or do you prefer this ride?” He puzzled, with a eyebrow wiggle. That quickly had you yank his Quidditch hood over his face. “Knock it-“ You warned, but smiled. He would toss his head back, still smiling that Weasley smile, before gently placing you back down. Making sure you were comfortable, and secure, before being far slower with you down the hill. “Think that’s enough training for one day.” George admits, as he did have a few scrapes now. “So about gaining weight-“ He nudged your shoulder. “Hm…..I don’t know-“ You playfully muse. “The lakes right there, just gotta-“ And he slowly started to tip you forward. “HEY HEY-!” You quickly held on, as he laughed at the panic. That’s what you get, for falling with a Weasley. “You are paying though.” You warned. “Wow, really? Disabled AND a leech.” He scoffed, but it was always in jest. It was always normal. You couldn’t have asked for anything else. “Butterbeer does sound good right now-“ You admit, as he rolled you off to Hogsmeade, enjoying the ride.

#harry potter #George Weasley #X reader #X disabled reader #disabled reader #disabled representation #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #gn reader #gender neutral reader #hp #gender neutral insert #quidditch #wheelchair #disabled artist #disabled writer #writers on tumblr #we need more disabled reorientation #disabilities aren’t a aesthetic #x gn reader #Weasley #Hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #wheelchair representation #fluff #X reader fluff #tooth rotting fluff #super fluffy #just fluff #lots of fluff

[gigicreates562]

Come to Gloat? - Fred Weasley x Reader

Fred and Y/n get into an argument before a risky mission. Y/n leaves without him, only to return with a gash in her side. Will Fred say I told you so, or does he have something different in mind? 

TW: Blood

Word Count: 1016

—---------------------

“You’re not going,” He said firmly. 

“Yes, I am, Fred. You can’t stop me,” She bit back. 

“It’s a suicide mission! You’ll never make it back alive!”

“I know the risks! It’s my decision to make,” she replied, zipping up her jacket forcefully. 

Truthfully she was scared, this mission was dangerous, deadly even, but she just didn’t care. She was desperate to prove herself: to her family, to the Order, and to him. She would do anything, no matter dangerous it was. 

“What if something happens to you?” Fred rationalized. The fear in her surged again, but she pushed it down quickly. 

“You certainly did fine when you left me back at Hogwarts. I’m sure you’ll manage again,” She hissed. 

With those words, what started as a small quarrel had just crossed the line into a major argument. His past actions had left a dark cloud on their friendship for too long. Fred had apologized, even begged her to forgive him, but to forgive was easy. Forget? Not so much. 

“Are you seriously implying that I would be fine if you died?” His brow furrowed in frustration, “Look, I’m sorry I left you back then, I thought we had this worked out already,” Fred pleaded.

“Fred!” She shouted, “You’re not my Dad. You’re not my boyfriend. This isn’t your decision to make.” Her venom sunk into his skin, leaving behind a foul taste in her mouth. 

“And here I thought our friendship actually meant something to you,” He laughed bitterly, stung by her words. He wished he was one of those things, and this argument was a painful reminder that he was not. 

“Yeah, well, best mates or not, I’m going, and that’s final.” She stomped out of the flat, slamming the door behind her. 

“Y/n, please!” He begged, voice faltering just a little too late.

The crack of apparition pierced through the door, leaving Fred utterly alone.  

…

Fred felt sick all night. And here I thought our friendship actually meant something to you. The words taunted him. Those awful, poisonous words may very well be the last thing he would ever say to his best friend. She would never know how he really felt, how much he truly cared for her.  

He didn’t sleep. He couldn’t. He tried, but after an hour of tossing and turning, he switched on the news hoping the constant droning of the newscaster would lull him to sleep. 

The Ministry continues to deny all claims of He Who Must Not Be Named’s return. Sources state that Harry Potter is to blame for the rebel numbers growing… blah blah blah… Muggle disappearances… blah blah blah… attempted break-in to a pureblood household… one rebel dead… one severely injured and at large… blah blah… The escaped rebel is said to have Y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes, and is bleeding severely. If you see them please notify authorities. Report suspicious activity immediately to… blah blah blah blah.

…

Fred didn’t remember nodding off, but he must have, because abruptly he was awoken by someone rummaging around in the bathroom. 

Quietly, Fred made his way to the source of the noise. 

“Come to gloat?” Y/n winced as she attempted to clean the large gash in her side. She dabbed around the wound carefully with a wet rag, doing her best to hide her reaction to the stinging liquid. Her shirt lay forgotten on the counter, no longer its original white color, but rather a sickly red. 

“You were right,” She continued through clenched teeth, “It was suicide. The bastard had the whole thing covered in enchantments. We never stood a chance.” 

She eyed Fred cautiously in the mirror. His gaze was transfixed on her, a hint of sadness tinting his stoic expression. 

“Well go on then, scold me,” She ordered, wishing he would just get it over with, “Come on, say I told you so.”

This wasn’t like Fred. Normally when he proved her wrong, she couldn’t live it down. He would take every opportunity possible to rub it in her face, but not this time. This time he just looked at her like a wounded dove as she wrapped her injury in fresh cotton. She hated it. She could take a lot of his smug reminders, but pity? Pity was somehow much much worse.

“Go on!” She snapped, turning to look at him, “Yell, scream, hex me into next Tuesday, say something!” 

Fred treaded softly into her space, his worried stare stripping her defenses and bringing a soft heat to her cheeks. His face was contorted with a pained expression, seemingly caught in an internal battle. Slowly, he reached a hand up to cup her face. Why wouldn’t he just get mad? 

“Just say I told you so! Why aren’t you mad at me?” She pleaded, feeling uneasy with his sudden tenderness. 

Fred answered her question silently by lowering his mouth onto hers. Warmth immediately blossomed in her chest, spreading rapidly throughout her body. The faint scent of fireworks lingered behind from his work, flooding her senses as his mouth moved against hers. His tongue pushed into her mouth through slightly parted lips, emitting a soft gasp from her. He was dizzying. She was positively sure she was floating an inch off the floor.

All too quickly, he pulled away, leaving her tingling all over. Silence settled throughout the room. The sound of their breath echoed off the bathroom walls. 

“I should’ve done that a long time ago,” He breathed, causing her head to spin again. 

“Fred, I’m so sor-” Her sentence was interrupted by a swift kiss, leaving her breathless once more. 

“Me too,” he smiled down at her, thanking every god he knew that those words weren’t their last.

They stared at each other, relaxing in the other’s company. 

“Bed?” She asked. 

“Bed,” he laughed, kissing her on the forehead before leading her back to his room.  

The couple may have begun with a shaky start, but Fred didn’t care. He was just happy that he would never spend another night, wishing he had told her. 

#fanfic #fred and george #fred weasley #george weasley #harry potter #reader insert #fanfiction #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasleyxreader #y/n

[tealeafgrimm]

Wrongly Accused

Fred Weasley x Reader

Words: 1.1k

Summary: You didn't like him. And for a good reason. At least that's what you thought. But as it turns out, the reason for your quarrel is not his fault at all.

A/N: I am so sorry! I'm very stressed with my job at the moment and just can't find enough time to write. I really want to get back to my schedule, but for now I think I'll just post whenever I can. So please bear with me. I hope you still enjoy this one-shot.

---

That was just your luck. Of all people, you had to work with HIM. Of all the people in the class, he was the one. You didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or cry. If you hadn't been completely wrong, you could have sworn that Professor McGonagall had even smiled slightly when she had read out your names. The old witch knew exactly what she had done. You were sure of that.

While the whole school (apart from maybe the Slytherins) loved the Weasley twins, you were at war with them. Well, actually, only with Fred Weasley. Since your first year at Hogwarts, you couldn't stand each other and you always clashed. And he was the one you were supposed to be with, preparing your transformation project? You would have been better off with Moaning Myrtle. You'd have been able to stand her better than Fred Weasley's face.

And Fred, too, was thunderstruck at the mention of your name as his project partner. While his twin brother laughed, Fred gave you a scathing look, which you were only too happy to return.

"Now that the groups have been divided, please get together to discuss the next steps. Remember, the grade of the project is one third of the final mark. Therefore, I advise you to make an effort. Transformation classes will be cancelled for the next three weeks so that you can use the time to complete your project. If you have any questions or problems, please see me in my office hours," Professor McGonagall announced, before gesturing for you to get together in your respective partner groups.

Neither Fred nor you moved. Only when Angelina Johnson hinted to Fred that she needed his space to work with George did he reluctantly stand up. Inwardly you grinned that he had to make the first move. Your pride wouldn't have allowed it. With an expression on his face as if he had been told he was to spend the next three weeks alone with Professor Snape, he dropped into the chair beside you without saying a word.

There was an unsettling silence between you before you decided to say something.

"Okay, listen Weasley. I know you don't care about your grade. But I do. And I'm not going to let your incompetence get me a bad grade at the end of the semester, understand? So, if you still want to enjoy your life, I suggest you follow my rules and at least use your remaining brain cells on this project."

"And why should I do that?" asked Fred, annoyed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Because you don't want to know what happens if you don't. I'll meet you in that empty classroom on the third floor during normal hours, understand?"

"Like I'm scared of you," he laughed maliciously, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, I never said anything about being scared. But I happen to know all those secret passages you always use. And it really would be a shame if the teachers knew about them, wouldn't it. And I also know that the little 'accident' the Slytherins had last week wasn't Peeves' fault. Maybe I should clear that up sometime too," you hissed at him. With satisfaction, you could see the colour drain from Fred's face.

“You wouldn’t”, Fred hissed. “Try me and find out”, you shrugged your shoulders, clearing your desk, ready to leave the classroom. “Don’t be late Weasley.”

~~~

You didn't know how you had survived the next few days without being at each other's throats. But with each day your emotions bubbled more and more.

After barely a week, you finally had enough.

"Say that again and I swear to you Weasley, you'll wish you'd never been born!"

"Sitting here with you makes me wish that all the time!"

"You're such an ignorant idiot do you know that? Life is not just a joke!" Your voice was getting louder and louder and you could hear the vein at your temple throbbing.

"And you're obnoxious! Do you even have friends at this school? I don't think anyone likes you anyway!"

"I have friends! Imagine being friends with people without constantly doing something at someone else's expense!"

"You're one to talk! You're always up in my business!"

"Well, YOU deserve it! After all, you started it!"

For a few seconds Fred looked at you in amazement before exploding.

"I started it? You're just way too sensitive. How vindictive are you? Just because I threw food at you once when I wanted to hit Lee?!"

Now you were speechless. Perplexed, you looked at Fred.

"What are you talking about?" Your voice took on a normal pitch.

"Well, the first year Halloween feast? George and I wanted to start a food fight. I wanted to throw mashed potatoes at Lee, you leaned forward over the table and I hit you right in the face?"

You remembered the situation that you hadn't thought about it in ages and began to laug out loud.

"I haven't thought about that at all!", you snorted as Fred looked at you open-mouthed.

"I don't understand. I thought that was the reason we were fighting?", he finally asks as you wiped away a tear from the corner of your eye.

"What, I wouldn't have been mad about that! I'm all about that Potions lesson where you deliberately threw that stinky tincture at me that made me come out with pustules all over my face!"

Now it was Fred who started laughing.

"Oh, you think that's funny huh?" you asked angrily. You had spent hours in the hospital wing before Madame Pomfrey could make the painful pustules disappear.

"That wasn't me! That was George!", Fred finally replied, trying to suppress another laugh.

"That wasn't you at all? It's still not funny!

"I'm sorry, you're right. I just can't believe that all this time we thought the origin of everything was two completely different things. And in the end, I wasn't even involved. And just so you know, George felt awful afterwards, he just thought your hair was changing colour. He wanted to apologise but he didn't know what to say."

For a while you sat next to each other without saying anything. Finally Fred held out his hand to you. Wonderingly you looked at him.

"Well, I guess now that we know that I never actually did anything to you, we can bury the war hatchet, can't we?" he asked and winked at you.

"Hmm, I don't know, depends a bit on how the mark turns out for our project," you replied, smiling at him before returning his handshake.

"I still think you're taking the whole grade thing too seriously. Maybe we should just..." But before he could finish his sentence, you raised your hand to silence him.

"Don't finish that sentence Weasley. You may not have done anything then, but that doesn't mean I can't change my mind. So get to work and you're not dismissed until we finish the assignments."

#fred weasley one shot #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x you #george weasley #harry potter series #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #reader insert #harry potter oneshot #one shot

[fensherohair]

Until The End (Charlie Weasley x Fem Reader) Oneshot

Words: 2.5K Warning: Mentions of Characters' death, injury, and loss. Also On: Quotev, AO3 and Wattpad Note: Originally written around 2011/12 - Edited 2022

The Battle of Hogwarts was raging on around (Y/N). The once great castle she had called home during her teenage years resembled the ruins the outside muggle world saw it to be on a daily basis. The collapsed areas brought a tear to her eye as she remembered her mischievous antics from when she was a student attending the school, how she used her ability as a Metamorphmagi to impersonate professors and ghosts alike, often ending in detention. Even how, in her final year, she had stood by your best friends and helped them rebel against Umbridge, letting her patrons loose in several areas, scaring most who come into contact with it.

(Y/N) was a brave Gryffindor student and a member of the D.A. (Y/N) Black, the daughter of Sirius Black and his school sweetheart, although she had been raised by Remus after her mother had been killed in the First Wizarding War and her father had been sent to Azkaban for a crime he was innocent of. During the battle, she was stationed in one of the many corridors near the moving staircase; (Y/N) could see Fred and Percy nearby, much as she could hear Fred joking about something. George was also close by at the end of the corridor, although he occasionally disappeared when he had the upper hand on whichever Death Eater he fought against. (Y/N) knew others were around somewhere as well, yet unfortunately, she didn’t have time to scan the area as she had her hands full with another Death Eater. (Y/N) knew he was one of the many to escape Azkaban during the two mass breakouts, much like she knew he was a loyal follower of Voldemort. Rodolphus Lestrange.

“I haven’t heard you joke since …..” was the last thing (Y/N) heard before she was forcefully thrown off her feet towards Rodolphus, who seemed just as shocked about the sudden explosion and rubble as she was. Nonetheless, he instantly got to his feet and ran from the scene. Leaving (Y/N) lying on the floor, she expected he would come back eventually, or at least another Death Eater would see her and take their chance to eliminate another who opposed their master. Through her lack of hearing, (Y/N) could about hear someone shouting for another to wake up, yet she couldn't distinguish who it was she could hear, much like (Y/N) couldn’t see much through her blurry vision. The moment she attempted to sit up, (Y/N) felt excruciating, almost torturous pain in her right shoulder. Making attempts to blink away the blurriness so she could get a better look at what was causing such pain, but it did little to help. Soon enough, her hair had changed from its natural (H/C) to the light lavender color to symbolize being hurt or in pain.

“(Y/N),” came the familiar voice of Percy, as hands wrapped themselves around (Y/N)'s midsection as he attempted to pull her to safety. “I’m gonna get the shards from your shoulder, but it's gonna hurt,” calmly spoke the third Weasley brother, (Y/N), who had almost forgotten what he sounded like when he was caring; his cold and Ministry-loving way had almost completely overshadowed it. Just as he said, (Y/N) felt the pain ripple and rip through her shoulder, arm, and neck. She felt as if her veins were on fire as dizziness returned once more. However, her vision began to return a little bit. (Y/N) couldn’t find the will to form words, instead opting to nod in thanks. She didn’t dare look at the wound she had sustained, suspecting her arm would be mangled if the pain was anything to go by. “Look after Fred for me; I’m going after Rookwood, the one who blew out the wall,” added Percy before running off down the hall. (Y/N) watched him go, unable to ask him where the others both cared for were. The only comfort was knowing she wasn't alone; she had Fred, unaware he had been killed in the explosion.

(Y/N) must have been huddled behind the armor for what seemed like hours. The shouts of spells being cast echoed around the corridor, despite that (Y/N) was able to summon the strength needed to move and help those fighting to defend the castle. She wasn’t able to summon the words to cast the spell; all she could do was sit there with Fred, in pain and hope no Death Eater found them to finish off the job they had been so close to succeeding in. (Y/N) soon lent against Fred, almost finding his green jacket interesting as they waited, the fear taking root and grew with every fast-paced and often thunderous footsteps come down the stone corridor.

“I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I, therefore, command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity. Harry Potter. I now speak directly to you. On this night you have allowed your friends to die for you, there is no greater dishonour. Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman, and child who tries to conceal you from me.” The words echoed around the ruined castle and the grounds, yet this time, there would be no girls screaming out in terror. Instead, there was only silence for what felt like hours. (Y/N) didn’t hear a soul speak a word or even footsteps to indicate someone else was around. Soon enough, the peacefulness was interrupted by familiar voices. One brought happiness to (Y/N) even.

“Percy said they were hidden behind a suit of armor,” uttered Charlie, his voice filled with concern about what he might find. From Percy’s warning, he knew Fred was already gone, and his love was seriously, perhaps even fatally injured; he hoped he was in time to save her even when he knew the pain it would cause if he weren’t. “(Y/N),” spoke the red-haired dragon tamer she'd called your own for so many years. He had spotted her boots and quickly began to struggle to move the armor. Thankfully, Oliver Wood lent a helping hand. The pair of them and Neville stood there for a few seconds before Charlie regained his senses and leaned down to (Y/N), examining the injury to her shoulder and observing the blood pooling around her, his heart already broken to see his younger brother deathly still, cold and with the last smile from his unfinished joke still etched upon his lips. He couldn’t lose you, too; his already broken heart would be shattered beyond repair if (Y/N) left him, much like George would truly be lost if she were to die.

“It's cold,” (Y/N) uttered, looking up to the second son of Molly and Arthur, no longer having feeling in her likely mangled right arm or anywhere around her shoulder; all of it had gone numb at some time ago, although she couldn’t say when. Charlie soon leaned (Y/N) against the wall, blocking her view of Neville and Oliver as they took Fred’s body away, ever more so upon realizing she was none the wise of his fate. Instead, the dragon tamer took his jacket off, gently placing it around her, watching as she snuggled into the warmth it offered. Appearing completely oblivious as to where she was or the concern etched on his features. “Ow!” (Y/N) yelled when Charlie attempted to pull her to her feet; having assessed her injuries, he knew it was far worse than Percy had originally thought.

“Come on (Y/N). Let's get you to the great hall. See if one of the healers can spare a few minutes,” softly spoke Charlie as if he hoped the words to escape his lips would soothe both his growing concerns and looming fears. His memory soon took him for a trip through past events, how the pair had eloped shortly after going into hiding, the dance they shared at Bill and Fleur’s wedding where he had asked you to marry him, even the Quidditch World Cup a few years prior where he had first professed his love for (Y/N) and the Yule Ball that Christmas serving as a lot of firsts, including first dance and kiss. The whimpers of pain to escape (Y/N) brought him more concern, much like he was beginning to hate the rule that no apparition could happen on school grounds. “The others would be happy to see you. George needs you,” whispered the taller redhead as he attempted to get (Y/N) to the Great Hall with as little pain as possible, eventually opting to carry her there to prevent further pain.

Upon walking through the golden doors, Charlie placed (Y/N) back on her own two feet, quickly noticing her lack of balance and how pale she'd gone in the minutes it had taken to get to the hall. Just by looking, anyone could tell (Y/N) had been through hell and back. Her ever-changing hair stuck to your face, as had the dust and dirt from the explosion, and a few scratches scattered her beautiful features, most notably beneath her left eye. Her focus, however, was on those who had been killed during the battle so far, seeing Collin Creevy and Lavender Brown amongst the dead, yet nothing hurt more than seeing Tonks and Remus next to each other, holding hands as they lay motionless on stretchers. Soon enough, her attention was drawn to the rest of the Weasley Clan, Bill, and Fleur looking down in sorrow; Arthur stood nearby with Percy, who at least looked relieved to see you and Charlie. Ginny stood behind Molly, who was leaning on the floor, stroking the hair of one of her twin sons, your heart sinking upon seeing George in tears at the feet of his twin. However, his attention was soon diverted to (Y/N) when Percy pointed in the general direction. Ron was nowhere to be seen, which only caused worry about his whereabouts and well-being.

“I was with him,” whispered (Y/N); Charlie could only look down, knowing she had been unaware she'd essentially been protecting Fred’s body the entire time they were hidden behind the suit of armor. “When did this happen?” she asked as her heart began to break as she tried so hard rack her memory for the answer. George slowly made his way over while Charlie went to get a healer, hoping for the best as he did so. “I was with Fred; when did this happen?” (Y/N) questioned, her hair going light blue to suggest she was upset, hints of the lavender still in there from the pain constantly tormenting her. George could see the obvious confusion, thankful Percy had told him, yet it still broke his heart further to see some he loved in such a way,.

“The wall explosion,” whispered George in response, not daring to speak any louder, knowing if he did, the pain would only grow and strengthen. “He was killed instantly by the rumble,” added the younger of the Weasley twins, watching as it dawned on (Y/N) she had been stowed away with the body of one of her closest friends, his protector against any further harm. “Percy didn’t want to tell you after he saw the injury you had sustained,” finished George as he caught (Y/N) when her knees gave out, the tears staining her dusty cheeks. George was well aware there was little anyone could do to help outside of being there. Just seconds later, Charlie reappeared, sadness in his eyes as he looked upon the one he called wife, knowing there was so much left to do together. There was so much he still wanted to do with her. He still had all the I love you's left to spend on her and his dragons. George quickly realized what the sadness meant and could only look to (Y/N) with a new sense of brokenness, especially when Charlie shook his head to confirm his suspicions. 

“All we can do is make her comfortable,” whispered the elder Weasley as he once again picked (Y/N) up, holding her bridal style. Despite everything, hearing her sweet echoing giggle somehow gave him and George the false hope they needed to believe she would be okay, that she would survive. The same innocent laugh they knew would haunt them for the rest of their lives. The dragon tamer soon sat on the benches to the side of the hall near his family; (Y/N) was resting in his lap with her head against his muscular chest, his arms wrapped around her with one of her hands securely in his, George hugged Ron when he entered the hall. Not daring to speak about what the pain he knew was to come. Bill soon left Fleur’s side to join the pair of you. You were his family, too, the reason his younger brother broke his own vow of never marrying, the reason he spoke of something else other than his dragons.

“When this is over, can we all be a happy family again?” (Y/N) asked with a dazed look in her glazed eyes, not even noticing Hermione appear with concern. All either brother could do was shake their heads to give her the silent answer to her equally wordless question. “The laughter, mischief, love. The never-ending pranks. No war or threat to everything we know and love,” whispered (Y/N). Charlie could only press a soft kiss to the top of her head, his only wish that she would stay with him, yet he knew it wasn’t to be. So, he pulled out his wand, knowing what he was going to do was likely to be his last show of love and affection for his beloved wife.

“Expecto Patronum,” chanted Charlie as he swished his wand, showing his Patronus had changed to match her own. There were tears in his eyes as he saw her smile upon seeing the silvery dragon fly above before disappearing. “It will always be for you (Y/N) until the end,” added the heartbroken Weasley, confessing he wouldn’t love another as he had allowed himself to love her. There wouldn’t be anyone who could ever replace her as his love or soul mate. “Goodbye (Y/N), I know your love will guide us,” cried Charlie as he watched her tangled hair turn from the blue, it had been back to its natural black color for the last time; her body had already limp in his arms. All he could do was refuse to let her go, just holding her in a tight grip, knowing there was nothing he could do to bring his (Y/N) back. “I’ll see you again,” whimpered Charlie as Bill placed a comforting arm around his shoulder, tears of his own staining his cheeks. The toll of the war had come at a heavy price for the Weasley clan; all they could do was hope (Y/N) and Fred’s deaths weren’t in vain, just as he hoped none of those who defended the castle died for nothing.

With Voldermort’s death came the end of the war. The Weasleys huddle together, yet Charlie soon looked around him when he could have sworn he heard your soft voice. “I love you, Charlie, forever.”

Fen's Masterlist

#wizarding world #x reader #reader insert #charlie weasley #fred weasley #charlie weasley x reader #fem reader #george weasley #battle of hogwards #wizarding world onshot #harry potter oneshot #weasley clan #yeah sorry about that

[enweasley]

would it be a good idea to write a fanfiction about my own character in hogwarts legacy? He's a weasley (duh doi) - Finn Weasley. i think it would be cool to write a reader insert about him (cuz holy smokes im falling for him) and base imagines off the hogwarts legacy plot but i dont wanna do it if people arent gonna be interested

lmk :)

ps - i have a bunch of gif ideas for him omg

#weasley #harry potter #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy reader insert #ominis gaunt imagine #sebastian x reader #finn weasley #fred weasly x reader #george weasly x reader #ron weasley x reader #charlie weasley x reader #ginny weasley x reader #bill weasley x reader #percy weasley x reader