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donaweasley · 1 year

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Everything is Fair in Love and War

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Plot:

You had met the twins at Hogwarts; you’re a year junior to them. Although you are best friends with both of them, you cannot help your heart’s inclination towards the younger one. During one of your stays at the Burrow, some feelings threaten to spill out but…will they?

Warnings: None, really. Just some high school mischief and fluff.

Read time: ~11 mins

Note: I've assumed that the reader is 14 years of age here but you're free to put in any number you like! And you can put the reader in any house you wish to!

Next Chapter: A Walk in the Dark

The three of them - Fred, George and (Y/N) - were hanging out in the twins' room. Ron and Ginny were confined to the kitchen by their mother, courtesy of the fight they had earlier in the morning.

"Freeedd!" Mrs. Weasley's sharp voice shot through the house.

Fred groaned while the other two chuckled, knowing very well that he was only one step away from being pushed into a chore.

"What is it, mum?" He asked in an almost equally loud voice.

"Come down here, I need you to put these dishes on the shelves."

"But Ron and Gin are already there!"

"They already have enough to do. Just get down before I shout myself sore."

"I'm keeping (Y/N) company! She's our guest."

"One of you would be enough to keep her company for a while. Now get down here before I confiscate your broom!"

The last three words finally urged Fred to move towards the door. George and (Y/N) sniggered only to receive a death glare from him before he wearily walked out.

"See, told you I'm mum's favourite twin", George smirked, and plopped down on the vacant space that Fred had left beside her.

"Ha ha ha. Yes, I can see that everyday."

"Do I smell sarcasm?"

"Do you?" She sniffed the air. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Huh! Whatever you say, darling, I know I'm the favourite one. And not just for mum." With the last word he leaned in slightly, and playfully kicked her leg while giving a smug look.

(Y/N) felt her cheeks warm up because no matter how much she denied, he was right. He was definitely her favourite twin, too. But the questions that clouded her mind were, "Does he know that I have a crush on him? Shit!! How? Am I that obvious?"

If he knew, there would have been nothing more embarrassing and painful to be teased by both brothers only to eventually face rejection.

No. Not happening!

She mustered her courage, gathered all her emotions that were scattered around George Weasley, and decided to play cool.

To push her rising discomfort away, she kicked him back. Lightly.

"In your dreams, Weasley!" (Y/N) tried to sound vain but facepalmed herself mentally when the words sounded pretty shy.

Idiot me!

George simply laughed and kicked her again. This went on to and fro for a while until he accidentally hit a little hard.

"Aah!" She shouted and tried to kick him harder but George had much quicker reflexes than she’d probably ever have. (Y/N) immediately found her legs wrapped in his, unable to move them at all.

"Leave me, Weasley!"

He simply laughed at his friend’s miserable state. Now, George has this infectious laugh that always left its effects on her.

And soon, through an avalanche of laughs cascading from both of them, she was hitting his arms and back.

There were rare, almost zero incidents, when (Y/N) had actually won a fight with either of the twins. The only way she could win was emotionally. Sometimes. Their tall and strong frames effortlessly dominated her on any given day.

And the same happened again.

She was already partially imprisoned by George. The remaining of her limbs were soon held tightly in his hand. In one hand.

Oh! Why am I so tiny before them!!

She tried to jerk herself free but in vain. Obviously.

"George!! Let go of me!"

"You should've thought before you started hitting me."

"I didn't start! You did! You kicked me first."

He made a face as though he received the biggest shock of his life.

"What?? That was just...just...a touch! I'm sure you barely felt it!"

"No, it was not! Now", She was grunting by then, trying to free herself, although she would never confess that she was rather enjoying it thoroughly, "leave me, buffoon!"

"I'd expect some respect, missy!"

"Okay, how about", she pretended to think, "baboon? You have the exact same kind of limbs. And face, too!"

"What? Are you blind? You call this handsome and charming man a baboon?"

"Hah! You are very delusional, I must say then!"

"M not! You're mental, I must say then."

"George", She drawled out his name, "you're so taallllll! Look at me. I'm so tinyyyy! Let me goooo." She tried to make puppy eyes and pout.

He sighed. "Alright. Say 'please'."

The girl pursed her lips and looked away. That, she wasn't going to say.

"I didn't hear anything yet!"

"Fine then. I won't say it. Keep me holding all day long. Your mum will come to my rescue", she shrugged.

"Okay!" And he wrapped his arms around her tightly, and started tickling.

"Not fair!" She squirmed and shouted, trying desperately to free herself but failing.

"Y’know it: everything's fair in love and war", he panted as he tried to keep a tight hold on his prey and continue his torture.

"Oh! So, we’re at war, are we?" (Y/N) was laughing like a maniac by then. Her cheeks and tummy were hurting.

"No, darling! I’m in love with yo-"

He almost mumbled the last few words. The most important words, at least to (Y/N). And then he stopped abruptly. Both in words and actions.

Her head shot up to face him.

What the hell was that? What did he just say? Did he mean it?

(Y/N)’s thoughts were screaming and running wild inside her head. She could feel her ears burn.

Thankfully, she wasn't the only one who went red in the face. George's face was as red as hers was.

They sat frozen, with her still locked in his grip.

"I... I...", George tried to say something. She wanted to hear something. That thing. But all they could do was stare into each other's eyes.

"Is this the moment then?" she thought. "Will he... Shall I... Does he..."

But alas! Before any of her wishes could come true, George snapped out his trance. He quickly released her from his grip, and looked at the floor, thus snapping her out of her trance as well. Suddenly they both found the floor pretty interesting.

There was an awkward silence looming in the room. (Y/N) felt thrilled, disappointed, hopeful, shy - all at the same time. It was like her mind was having an emotional indigestion.

Shoving all thoughts behind into the closet of her mind, she turned towards him.

"Let's go dow-", they both said together. Thankfully, the laughter that followed, although a nervous one, chased the heavy and uncomfortable silence away, making the air easy and breathable again. But the hint of pink that had settled on their cheeks wasn’t going anywhere easily.

He got up and offered her his hand. "Downstairs", he smiled.

"Downstairs", she agreed and took his hand.

---

Meanwhile, in the kitchen...

"Aah!"

"Leave me, Weasley!"

"You should've thought before you started hitting me."

"I didn't start! You did! You kicked me first."

"What?? That was just..."

Fred looked at his mother with an exaggeratedly helpless face, "See, mum. This is exactly why I didn't want to leave them alone. One of them is going to get hurt."

"Okay, how about...baboon?"

Molly sighed and shook her head while Ron and Ginny exchanged funny glances.

"Oh! So, we’re at war, are we?"

"No, darling! ..."

And then there was silence. An abrupt silence. All of them paused their work and looked up towards the twins' room.

"D'you think one of them is dead?" Ron asked with wide eyes.

"Oh! Shut up, Ron! George must have hit (Y/N) and now he's regretting it", Ginny justified. "He's going to regret it so much!!" Her eyes lit up with the idea of her friend taking revenge on her brother.

"Did they finally kiss?" Fred quipped.

Three pairs of wide eyes shot towards Fred.

"Bloody hell!"

"Already?"

Molly simply gasped.

Fred threw his hands up in the air. "Just guessing!"

All the Weasley's could clearly see what (Y/N) and George could not: that they fancied each other. A lot. So, it wasn't the idea of them being together that shocked them but the thought that they could finally see through their friendship and acknowledge their feelings was what left them speechless.

The more the silence lingered the higher their curiosity peaked until they heard footsteps descending the stairs.

All eyes were fixed on the stairs, waiting to find an answer and cool down the questions that were bubbling in the pits of their stomachs.

---

George and (Y/N) made their way downstairs rather quietly, hand-in-hand though. Holding hands was perfectly normal for them but the silence was unusual, unless they were on to some mischief. And it felt pretty weird. The unspoken tension between the two was still hanging in the air, and her stomach churned at the thought of the possibilities that might be going on in George's mind.

As they reached the final flight of stairs, (Y/N) realised that the rest of the family were staring up at them as though they were anticipating a dinosaur to descend into the living room. George, too, had evidently noticed it because he stopped in his tracks, trying to gauge the situation.

"You all okay?" He asked with furrowed brows.

(Y/N) was sure she noticed Molly's eyes flick between their faces and their interlocked hands. But before she could even think "why", she was knocked off her feet.

"Did you two kiss?" Ron blurted out.

"What??" They shouted in unison.

As if the existing tension wasn't enough, it felt like thunder had exploded between them, exactly where George and (Y/N) were standing. With a jolt, they released each other's hands and stepped away as much as the staircase would allow them to. The pink on their cheeks turned to deep red, and she found herself at an utter loss of words.

What a ridiculous question!! In front of Molly? In front of Molly?? In front of George? What would he be thinking? What if he's so embarrassed that he never speaks to me again?

Wait! Why did Ron say so in the first place?

Her train of thoughts got interrupted by a flustered George shouting at his little brother, "Have you gone bonkers?? Why the hell would you say so?"

"So, you did not?" Fred sounded sceptical.

(Y/N) stepped forward boldly, "Of course, not! Why are you all looking at us like this?" In contrast to her bold step, her words came out in a squeak.

"Oh! Nothing!" Molly looked as though she had suddenly returned to Earth. With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the whole situation. "Carry on", she said, and went out of the house casually as if nothing that had happened was out of place.

George and his partner-in-crime, both utterly baffled, looked at each other, trying to make out what just happened. None of them had the slightest clue.

They went down the remaining steps very cautiously, as if the slightest action might trigger another weird question. All the siblings were pretending to work diligently but their faces gave away the knots in their minds. Gingerly, they made their way to Ron, knowing that he'd be a much softer target than either Ginny or Fred.

"Ronnie?" (Y/N) placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, (Y/N)?" His voice was absolutely cool as though nothing odd had happened.

"D'you mind explaining?" George stood facing his brother.

"What?"

"Ron", George almost growled which startled us all.

"Okay! Okay!"

Through a rush of words, he explained their ideas and speculations, ultimately leaving both George and (Y/N) red-faced again.

When he had finished, Ron received a good smack on the back of his head, the action instantly reminding them of Snape.

"I didn't say anything! He did!" Ron shouted, pointing towards Fred.

"Uuuhhh...I was just... guessing?" Fred raised his hands in the air in surrender.

"It isn't funny", a red-faced George warned him.

"Noted!" His twin nodded enthusiastically.

The guest in the Burrow didn't know what to say. Or how to react. A part of her was hopping like a little girl because they thought that she and George were a thing. But George here was furious about the whole situation. Her heart dropped. She tried to look annoyed and faked a scoff but probably her eyes gave the disappointment away because she noticed Fred looking at her in a rather odd way.

Little did she know then that George was reflecting her thoughts. That he was pulled into the same whirlpool of conflicts that had messed up her mind.

They sat down at the table to lend a hand to Ron and Ginny while exchanging awkward looks and smiles with each other.

***

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#george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fluff #george weasley x fem #george weasley series #george weasley love #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fic

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beautifulbuckys · 2 years

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Can’t Stay Away (George Weasley x Reader) [6/6]

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Christmas Day was the day of gifts and family time, and apparently accidentally cuddling with the person you’re supposed to hate?

Warnings: Some swearing, teasing, confrontational attitudes??

A/N: Well folks, this is the end. I’ve never written a complete series before, so this is a first! Hopefully, this fits all my lovely readers ideas of the ending :) Thank you guys for sticking with this stories, and remember requests are always open!

“Baby, it’s cold outside,”

“Baby? Don’t baby me, Arthur. You must return that chemistry set back to the store!” The familiar voice of Molly Weasley rung through the living area. Wait, why am I in the living area? Her tone was cutthroat, much too aggressive for the morning. Was it morning? A grey light shone through the window. It seemed to be morning. Christ, my neck hurts.

A beat.

“Molly look,”

More silence.

I sluggishly open my eyes to find Arthur and Molly standing in front of me. I notice a wide smile on Molly’s face. I’m still on the living room couch, where I was last night. I must’ve fallen asleep. Ginny was no longer asleep in my lap, her presence absent completely. Instead, I'm tucked into George Weasley’s chest. He’s still snoring loudly, mouth slightly agape. I fell asleep with George Weasley. I kissed George Weasley. Oh shit.

Molly must have noticed I was awake, as she approached me slowly. “Good morning dear. How’d you sleep?”

This is embarrassing.

I smiled, trying to bury the embarrassment. “Very well actually; I didn’t realize I was so tired. I don’t even remember falling asleep here, honestly. I guess I was just so excited for Father Christmas. You know me, just so childlike at heart!” I spoke through gritted teeth. George continued to snore softly, remaining still on his place on the couch.

“I don’t think that to be true,” Harry spoke, scaring all three of us. He must’ve snuck down the stairs. “I saw you and George snogging last night!” Molly looked at me curiously, as Arthur stood in shock. How did Harry know? Was Ginny actually awake and witnessed the entire account? I don’t want to be in deep shit with the Weasley’s.

“Harry,” I warned. He smiled, turning on his heels to the kitchen.

“I suppose the giving spirit was in the air last night!” Arthur spoke, kneeling by the fireplace. It was a cold morning, as most winter mornings were out here. Although it wasn’t snowing, you wouldn’t mistake today as a fall day.

Molly smiled, “I’m so glad to see you’ve given George a chance. Merlin knows how long he’s wanted to ask you out!” Molly’s cheering was loud, echoing off the creaky wooden walls of the cramped home.

“Mom!” A groggy voice behind me whined. You couldn’t help but laugh.

As the rest of the family makes their way downstairs, the levels of chaos rose. Ginny and Percy were antsy to open the presents labeled with their name. Fred insisted everyone needed to eat first. Harry and Ron had run outside to discover if the reindeer had eaten the reindeer food the pair had left out on the grass. Molly and Arthur found themselves in the middle of the redhead whirlwind.

I still hadn’t gotten up from the couch. Nor had George! I was still lying on his chest, my hand tucked underneath my head. It was comfy. No doubt about that. His hand was on the small of my back, thumb slowly tracing circles. My shirt was slightly raised, exposing some of the skin of my lower back. Our position wasn’t compromising, by any means. However, it didn’t really leave room for secrecy. Nor did Harry’s comment earlier. Note to self: make sure to slap him on the arm later. He won’t even be able to say he didn’t deserve it. The shit-eating grin that sat on his face showed no remorse or regret.

Eventually, both George and I found ourselves getting up. Molly and Fred insisted breakfast came before presents. Percy voiced some opposition, but Arthur reminded him of last Christmas.

Last Christmas was something special. Much like this year, Ginny and Percy insisted we open presents before breakfast. Begrudgingly, the Weasley parents agreed. They learned from their mistake quickly. Ron and Ginny found themselves particularly hangry that morning. It led to intense arguing over gifts and eventually, punches were thrown. Percy was incredibly jealous of Ron’s quill set and picked a fight he wouldn’t win. From then on, Molly refused to even hear the arguments about breakfast.

The fried eggs and breakfast potatoes were a delicacy. Fred had helped Molly in the kitchen. He’d found a knack for cooking after accidentally acing a potions exam. Since then, he’s been a massive help with his Mother in the kitchen. The potatoes were heaven, many at the table agreed. Ron groaned once the perfectly seasoned starch hit his tongue. I’d have to agree. They were Heaven on a plate.

“These are delicious, Fred!” Arthur cheered, retucking his napkin into his shirt. I’d witnessed it fall twice since he began eating. It didn’t deter him though, he just continued happily and occasionally fixed the misplaced napkin.

“Thanks, Dad!”

“So George,” Harry bites his fork aggressively. He has this strange look on his face. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed. His smile has been replaced with a scowl. He’s trying to be intimidating! “How was cuddling with my sister last night? You better have kept your hands to yourself!”

I can’t help but laugh, “Harry, there was no humanly possible way he could’ve kept his hands to himself,”

“Better have been a gentleman,” Molly added, replicating Harry's scowl.

“Perfect gentleman, just as I always am. Harry, my hands were only placed on the most appropriate places, promise. Take your sister's word for it,” George was slightly squirmy in his seat. Was Harry’s intimidation tactics actually working? George’s face was dusted with a slight rosy blush. Holy shit, it was.

The rest of breakfast went by peacefully. Now and again, I’d catch a small look tossed in George’s direction from Harry, but nothing crazy. The topic of conversation went back from George and me to Christmas. Ron was raving about how amazing his presents were last year. Ginny was preoccupied with a conversation with her Father about muggle toys. Arthur loved discussing all things muggles, that was no surprise. He found them the most interesting creatures to exist. Christmas time was his favorite. Arthur had a special fascination with how the muggles treated Christmas. Frankly, it was adorable. No shame for it.

The unhinged childlike attitudes returned once plates were cleaned. Everyone was desperate to open their gifts from Father Christmas and each other. Nobody wasted time, sucking down their juices and eggs before Draco could spit an insult at Harry.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and I all bolted to the tree, seating ourselves around the living room. Percy, Molly, Fred, and George filled in the spots we scattered to. Naturally, George found himself sitting next to me.

“Hi there, gorgeous,” He smiled as he plopped down on the hardwood floor.

I returned his cheery demeanor, “Morning to you, handsome. Excited about your gift?”

“My dear, you’re the greatest gift of them all,”

“Gag!” Harry dry heaved playfully. His dark hair was a mess, strands sticking up or down all over the place. He was one to talk, as he looked like a dragon attacked him during his peaceful Christmas Eve slumber. George rolled his eyes, reaching over me to push Harry gently. The two of them chuckled, with filled my heart. George and I have had rocky times; that’s not difficult to deny. However, as times changed so have my opinions on him. It makes me overjoyed to see how Harry noticed and excepted George wholeheartedly. It was a simple gesture. However, it didn’t go unappreciated.

Before I knew it, Molly began tossing presents around. George had received a few small, burlap-wrapped boxes. That’s how you know it’s from the Weasley’s. Their wrapping preferences were neutral and more conservationally driven. You can reuse burlap and twine for years! Presents from Father Christmas were more extravagantly wrapped. Boxes from the man were proudly representing reindeer and Christmas light bulbs much like the American muggle holiday movies.

I was next, as Molly tossed me 4 small boxes to start off with. I elected to open the smallest one first, choosing to work my way up the totem pole. The brown box tied with twin rattled when I shook it. As I opened it, I noticed it to be a shiny pair of earrings. I knew they were from Ginny instantly. While at Hogwarts, she’d found a hobby in jewelry making. She and a few Hufflepuff and Slytherin girls sat in the dining hall during lunch and made all things jewelry. The earrings were gorgeous. They were small golden bells, ones like you’d find on the collar of a cat. They jingled too!

“Thank you, Ginny, these are gorgeous! I can’t wait to wear them! I’m going to try so hard to match them to as many outfits as I can!” I cheered excitedly, holding the small brown box to my chest.

The other two, medium-sized, boxes contained various gifts. One box, as expected, contained the knitted Christmas sweaters Molly always made. The box also included a small pair of white wool socks. I recall having a conversation with her in the fall, expressing my regret in not purchasing warmer socks while you two were out shopping. I adored gifts like that. She remembered an insignificant conversation and made something from it. The other box housed two brand new scrolls, the ones with silver and turquoise detailing. I had an admiration for intricately detailed things. I am definitely saving these scrolls for important class work!

The larger box was decorated with colorful wrapping paper. Inside, it contained stacks of brand new (not used!) Herbology and Astronomy textbooks. Those two were hands down my favorite subjects at Hogwarts. These weren’t going to go unused!

As time went on, excited ‘thank you’s’ and cheery squeals were shared. The living room was littered with scrap paper and thrown burlap bags. Many of the family members were now wearing their Weasley Christmas sweaters. I quickly tossed mine on, wanting to feel one with the family. Ginny was wearing the new headband Fred had gotten her. Molly was quick to clasp the gorgeous necklace Ginny had made her around her neck. Hugs were shared between Ron and Percy. Honestly, I believe that's the most tranquil I’ve seen the two brothers.

“Molly, Arthur, I truly can’t express how grateful I am that you allow us to join you on these holidays. I’m touched you purchase Harry and I gifts and try to make us feel included. You guys are our family, related or not,” I spoke, pulling Harry into my side. Our smiles were huge, even though we stuck out from the Weasley family, we considered them to be family.

Arthur faced me, pausing his Christmas cleanup. “Don’t even mention it. You two are family. It pains me to know what you both have gone through. Ron and the twins are lucky to have friends as lovely as you. Or more than friends, whatever that is about,” Arthur spoke the last sentence to himself However, I heard it loud and clear.

“I’m so happy you both continue joining us. You two are so lovely, you’re like another daughter to me deary,” Molly hugged me tightly, I felt like I was being sized up by a boa constrictor.

After the heartfelt moment, Molly was quick to make everyone clean up. With her authority, she guaranteed everyone’s presents were quickly stored away in their rooms. Ginny began assisting Fred to carry his presents upstairs. They always had Christmas agreements. He enlisted her help in exchange for Christmas goodies. A hard deal to turn up, really.

“At least I won’t have to worry about my Mom not liking you,” George laughed, learning under the tree to get the last present.

“Same here,” George handed me the gift. It was a larger box, yet thin in width. It was wrapped in brown paper, similar to the paper bags muggle grocery stores used to help you carry your food and other goods. On it, it had the words ‘From: George’ written on it, a heart accompanying his name. “You really didn’t have to get me anything,”

“Just open it,”

I took the command and ran with it.

Gently, I tore the paper. The wrapping job wasn’t gorgeous but the attempt didn’t go unnoticed. George really tried. Once I finally tore all the paper, I was left with a black velvet box. On the back, I noticed a small silver hinge. It was supposed to open. He didn’t just get me a box. I don’t know why I thought that in the first place. I felt a tinge of nervousness in my stomach. However, I didn’t let it get to me. Slowly, I opened the black velvet box until it wouldn't let me anymore.

Holy shit.

Inside was a stunning pearl necklace tucked on top of some white silk. The box had a small mirror on the inside.

“George,” I muttered, my eyes glued to the necklace. After the years of hating him for ruining something he didn’t know about, he tried to make it right. After his apology, his confession of liking me back, and now this, I had already forgotten what he did. He didn’t.

“I’m so sorry about what I did to your Mom’s necklace. I always wondered why you were always so angry around me. I had no idea. Not until very recently. Please, let me make this right. I know it’s not the same. It’s not your Mom’s. But this one is yours, for what it’s worth,” George said, placing his hand on my knee.

“I love it,”

“I know after last night, we’re kind of in a weird place. I actually had this whole cheesy speech I prepared for when I gave you this. I guess I kind of backed out. I really, really like you. I don’t want to screw this up any more than past me already did. I want a restart. No more animosity and anger. I want to treat you right. Buy you flowers and all the corny stuff Ron wishes he could do with Hermione,”

“Let’s do this then. You gonna ask the special question?

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course,”

A restart, huh?

Good thing New Years was right around the corner.

______________________________________________________________

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maricoolerthanme · 2 years

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Squeaky Stairs; George Weasley

synopsis: reader is visiting the Weasleys on Christmas break and sneaks out with George in the middle of the night because of hot chocolate.

warnings: fluff, literally 1 curse word, somnambulism.

pairing: george weasley x gn!reader.

an: this is pretty short, I know. But there will be a part.2 so don’t worry about it! I loved writing this, hope you enjoy it as well!

wc: 0.5k

request: yes | no

navigation | main masterlist | george masterlist | gif credit

You closed Ginny’s door carefully, trying to avoid any sound it could’ve made when two hands gripped your waist from behind. You gasped and turned to look at the person.

“Georgie,” you said quietly, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

“Hello darling,” he said with a cheeky smile. His hands were still on your waist.

You smiled at him and shoved his shoulder. “You scared the hell out of me!”

He chuckled softly, “Come on,” he took your hand and guided you downstairs.

You were spending the Christmas holidays at the Burrow. This afternoon in particular you and George planned on spending the night together drinking Molly’s hot chocolate, waiting till midnight when it was finally Christmas.

So that’s why you're here, walking out of Ginny’s room, with your best friend waiting for you at the door.

George had gone from the third floor to the second one easily without much noise. So he wasn’t expecting the rather loud squeaky sound the wooden made right on the first step of the stairs.

The two of you tried your best to step on the right places of the stairs but were obviously failing. Each step taken was louder than the next. Merlin, the burrow kitchen never seemed so close and yet so far away.

George couldn’t take it any longer, letting out a burst of laughter loud enough to wake up the nearest rooms. You tried to hold back and shush him up, but his laugh was contagious, and you couldn't seem to control your own chuckles from coming out of your mouth, which only led to louder laughter from the boy.

You two didn’t realise that you were now sitting in the middle of the stairs, panting for breath, as you both couldn't seem to contain yourselves over each other's laughter. But that was until you heard a door opening.

You froze. “George,” you whispered, trying to warn him. The sound of footsteps came from upstairs. The redhead was still laughing, not realizing that someone had woken up. You, on the other hand, were silent, your stomach twisting in nervousness as the footsteps got louder, meaning the person was just getting closer.

“George!” you whispered yelled, and in a sudden movement both of your hands came up to press over his mouth. The laughter died on his lips and his eyes widened at your action, looking deeply into your eyes.

You looked up at the last sound of wood squeaking, only to see Fred at the bottom of the upstairs stairs. He was barefoot and in pyjamas. And his eyes were… close?

"It's Fred… is he asleep?" you asked looking at George, realizing how close you were to him, he was still looking at you intently and while your hands were still over his mouth. He nodded slowly.

Your hands dropped from his lips, revealing his now rosy cheeks, the sight just filling your stomach with butterflies. And with that, the thought of Fred's sleepwalking episode completely disappeared from your mind at that moment.

The air thickened with his stare. You looked up the stairs where Fred once was, only to see that he had disappeared, probably heading back to his room. "Should we get some hot chocolate?" he spoke, and you remembered why the two of you were in the middle of the stairs.

"Of course…" you said. He helped you up, and the two of you walked the last few steps of the stairs.

You realised that day you have fallen for your best friend.

Shit.

۫ ⋆ ࣪. ୧ 🍶 ୨ ִ ۫ ⁎ .

Thanks for reading! Taglist is open!

#marie posts ꒰ఎ ໒꒱#george weasley #george weasley imagines #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader fluff #george weasley series #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fic #george weasley x reader #george weasley x reader insert #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #george weasley/reader #george weasley/you #george fabian weasley #harry potter characters

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tbmunson · 2 years

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From The Outside Masterlist

As of now, this is looking to be a 6 part series. First part will be posted in November

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Age gap, Affair, Cheating, Sex, Drama, Lying, Fighting. This list will update as parts are posted.

Summary: 2nd person POV. OC. You start working at the shop during the summer, just after your 18th birthday. You and George are so attracted to each other but considering he’s married and you’ve got a boyfriend, you try not to act on it. After sharing a late night kiss it proves harder than you thought. You fight the feelings until a particularly bad day at the shop and it all spirals from there.

Part 1

#George Weasley #george weasley x fem!reader #george Weasley x reader #george Weasley x Slytherin!Reader #george weasley series #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley smut #george weasley fluff

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haveanotherfandomblog · 1 year

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Roses and Thorns

Chapter Three: Halloween

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!OC

Genre: Adventure, Angst, Comedy, Fluff

Word Count: 5.2K~

Warnings: N/A

Masterlist || <<Previous | Next>>

Mid-September brought a slightly less than subtle change to the weather. The sun spent most of its time hiding behind the clouds as the wind ran rampant through the ground of Hogwarts. Gwen liked to spend her free periods outside, soaking in what little bit of sun was left before winter came barreling in and made it near impossible to go outside.

Though she was beginning to miss the warm weather, her mind was kept occupied by her studies and Quidditch. All Cedric talked about for the first two weeks of school was Quidditch--him and Tamsin. Any time spent in the Hufflepuff common room was spent talking about the game, and the pair explaining to her the fundamentals of what they called “the best game in the whole world”; though she did get a kick out of telling them it was just the wizard version of basketball.

Quidditch tryouts for the Hufflepuff team were on the second Saturday in September. Cedric paced around the common room all morning, wringing his hands until they were a nice, bright shade of red. Tamsin and Gwen sat on the couch, attempting to study, but ultimately just watching as he paced until tryouts.

They all made their way to the Quidditch pitch. It was a large field with slightly overgrown grass and stands that stood high upon stilts. On either side of the field sat three hoops. Gwen gave Cedric a charm bracelet she had made for good luck before following Tamsin up the stands. There were scattered students in the stands, most of them older and using the excuse to come outside. There were a few other Hufflepuff students she recognized from her year: Heidi, Maxine, James, and Arthur. They were seated in the front row, watching intensely for the tryouts to start.

Cedric made his way to the middle of the pitch, clutching a broom in his hand. One by one the players began rising in the air. The Captain, Jenetta Weaver, a sixth year, was in the middle of all the players, directing them around the field. She was a fierce looking girl with long brown hair pulled into a French braid and a serious expression that always made her seem slightly confused.

She blew a loud whistle, then tossed one of the balls in the air. Immediately, the players dove for the ball, tossing it to one another and making a beeline for the hoops. One of the seventh years, who Tamsin said was a Hufflepuff Quidditch legend like Jenetta, was pacing the hoops. She had short black hair kept back by a bandana that Gwen knew was being kept in place by magic. She watched in amazement as she blocked the ball with practice ease, a smirk on her face.

Cedric was floating in the air, watching as everyone played. Another Hufflepuff student was waiting in the air with him. He didn’t do much in the air, just watched the other players.

“Tamsin,” Gwen called, pulling her out of her conversation with Heidi. “What position is Cedric going for again?”

“Seeker. That’s the one that goes after the golden snitch.” Gwen nodded her head as she watched the rest of the players. One boy, a seventh year named Marshall Allen, was hovering nearby Cedric, his hand wrapped around a bat. He had short blonde hair and was big and burly.

A black ball came whirling towards them. Cedric had barely turned half an inch before Marshall was swinging the ball, knocking it clean towards the other side of the field. Gwen gave a gasp as the other Hufflepuffs buzzed with excitement. She went to lean on the railing, more concerned with Cedric’s wellbeing than with the possibility of falling several feet.

Then he began to dive. The girls jumped from their seat, watching as he dove straight for the bottom of the pitch. They waited with baited breath as he slowly pulled the broom up at the last minute, keeping one of his hands outstretched. He slowly turned his broom before he wrapped his hand around something.

Jenetta blew her whistle, waving to gather everyone’s attention. He rode up to where she was and triumphantly held the golden snitch in his hand. Gwen hollered, clapping and waving as she jumped in the stands. The other students murmured around her, giving her odd stares. She didn’t care as he waved back before passing the snitch to Jenetta.

Tryouts continued for some time. She didn’t realize how late these could run, but she was determined to stay the entire time. Most of the other Hufflepuff students had ventured back inside, leaving Gwen, Tamsin, Maxine, Heidi, and a couple of boys from Cedric’s year in the stands.

It was almost dark when Jenetta announced her decision. She would, of course, remain as one of the chasers along with Jaqueline Beck, a seventh year. Malcolm Preece, a skinny second year with brown hair and fair skin was to join them as their third chaser. Marshall Allen remained a beater, and Anthony Rickett, another second year with a round figure and ashy-blonde hair, would join him as the second. Hufflepuff legend Ida was to remain keeper, and Cedric was the new seeker.

Gwen was beside herself, cheering and jumping and dancing. She grabbed Tamsin’s hand and dragged her down the stands, running to where he was dismounting. She tackled him to the ground, laughing and cheering. His second year friends joined her, dog piling him as they cheered. Tamsin let out a laugh before joining in, patting his shoulder aggressively. He let out a laugh, staring up at the darkening sky.

“You did it!” Gwen shouted for maybe the thousandth time as they entered the castle. “Are you going to tell your parents? I bet they’ll be so proud! This is so exciting! OMG, now I want to play Quidditch! Don’t know if I’ll be any good, but it’s always worth a shot, right? You did it!”

He nodded his head, doing the dance to enter the common room. The other Hufflepuff students gave him a round of applause . He bowed his head before collapsing onto the couch. He was still drenched in sweat but he didn’t care. Midnight barked and jumped onto the couch. He made himself comfortable on Cedric’s lap before promptly falling asleep.

“So, when’s the first game?” Gwen picked Midnight up from his spot and set him on her own lap. He provided little protest as she went to scratch his ears.

“Well, the first game of the season is sometime in early November, but the first Hufflepuff match will be mid-to-late November,” he said. “That’s when I’ll get to play.”

“You’ll be great,” Tamsin assured him. “You were like an all-star out there. Before you know it, you’ll be a Hufflepuff Quidditch legend.” He laughed softly, shaking his head. Only time could tell.

***

The rest of September was highly uneventful for Gwen. She spent most of her time studying for her classes. Cedric was swamped with school-work and Quidditch practice, so she hardly ever saw him, and when she did, he was always exhausted. Tamsin spent most of her free-time hanging out with their other dormmates, giggling over things Gwen didn’t understand. They never excluded her, but there was little fun to be had when every joke had to be explained.

No, she didn’t understand their wizard jokes, but she harbored no ill-will. She simply opted to put her focus where her family excelled, in their studies. It provided her with great comfort that Mark was always as eager to study as she was. The only problem was he was selective about which subjects he wanted to study for. Half of their classes fell to the bottom of the list. His favorites consisted of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Charms. He only put in an effort with potions to avoid detention with Professor Snape.

Ava was willing to give each class equal attention, but getting her to sit down and put forth the effort was another story. She would have rather spent her Saturdays wandering and exploring the castle. As fun and exciting that sounded, Gwen knew they needed to do well in school if they wanted to stay. She assured her there would be plenty of time to explore after their work was done, but getting her to focus was like getting a dog in a bath: chasing her around until you lured her with a treat.

The only person who put in the same amount of effort as Gwen was Richard. When he sat down to work, he didn’t stop until everything was done and done perfectly. Every step in his process was meticulously thought out and planned, and while the other three certainly threw more than one wrench into his work, he never left the study group or said anything mean, he simply continued on and reworked what he needed. He also helped Gwen make sure Ava and Mark completed all their work so the pair wouldn’t have to serve detention.

***

Gwen would want her kind personality and academic achievements to be her mark on Hogwarts. Unfortunately for her, her legacy would consist of wit and mischief, and it all began at the beginning of October.

October First marked the start of another school week, and the official countdown to Gwen’s favorite holiday. She and Richard were on their way to class, discussing the homework from the weekend, when two unexpected visitors stepped into their path. Richard latched onto Gwen’s arm, forcing her to stop and pay attention to the people in front of her.

“Hey there, Gwenny ol’ girl,” Fred greeted, an innocent smile on his face. His nose was still slightly swollen, despite the magic of Madam Pomfrey. “Heard ‘bout your friend making the Quidditch team. George an' me got on too, see. Beaters.”

“Congrats.” Gwen moved to step around them, tugging Richard along. Fred stepped to the side, bending his head down slightly.

“What’s the rush?”

“We need to get to class. Have a nice day.” She sidestepped them once again, and he followed suit. She exhaled loudly through her nose, frustration beginning to bubble inside her. “Can I help you?”

“Have a piece then.” George produced a piece of candy from his pocket, wrapped in shiny silver plastic. “Go on. It’s delicious. Toffee flavored.” He stuck his hand out farther, a matching grin on his face.

Something in Gwen’s body pinched the base of her spine and worked its way up to her neck. She glanced over to Richard, who seemed annoyed rather than suspicious. She gently pushed his hand away, reaching back to find Richard’s.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.” She pushed between the boys, tugging Richard along. Once she felt they weren’t going to follow, she took the chance of looking back. Both boys looked infuriated and disappointed.

“What do you suppose that was about?” Richard asked, pulling out his books. He set them neatly in the corner of his desk, spines lining up with the edge and the top sides lining up as well.

“I don’t know.” Gwen frowned, turning back to look at the door. “I doubt anything good.”

Her instinct was right. By dinner time, she saw multiple students, from all the houses, covered in massive blue polka dots, all claiming the same story: Fred and George Weasley had offered them the toffee flavored candy in the shiny, silver plastic wrap.

Ava told Gwen they had received a week’s worth of detention and had lost ten points each. Gwen shook her head and returned to her table. Those boys sure seemed to have a knack for getting themselves into trouble.

Cedric had told her they were just as bad their first year too. Sooner or later they were going to do something they couldn’t come back from, and when that happened, she just hoped they didn’t take half the school down with them.

***

Gwen, Mark, Ava, and Richard had agreed to meet every Saturday in the library to review the week’s lessons and to catch up on any work. The four fell into a routine, and while it was still far from a friendship, Gwen knew that they’d be inseparable by the end of the year.

The only issue came from Richard. While the rest of the group had other friends to hang out with, Richard seemed to be a loner, and not the stare-off-into-space-brooding-bad-boy type. It was more along the lines of help-no-one-within-a-ten-mile-radius-will-come-near-me type, and that bothered Gwen to no extent. He refused to spend time with any of his housemates, including his dormmates. In fact, he only went to his dorm to sleep. It didn’t help that almost all students outside of Slytherin avoided him too.

He assured her he didn’t mind spending time alone, and she knew that some people needed time alone, like her sister Nat, and others simply liked it, like her sister Penny, but the two of them still interacted with other people.

On days Gwen didn’t need to study, and most of the students were just hanging around, and Cedric was busy with his Quidditch practise, her and Richard would spend time walking around the black lake, bundled up as Jack Frost nipped at their noses. He wasn’t much of a talker, like her brother Nick, but Gwen found comfort in having someone listen to her without interrupting. In a family as big as hers, being heard wasn’t as easy as it should have been.

It was a Saturday after a particularly hard week in Potions, two weeks after the candy incident, that Gwen ran into the Weasley twins. Running being an operative term as the four of them had been on their way to the library when a familiar sharp pain entered Gwen’s back and shot up her spine. She stopped in her tracks, furrowing her brows.

“Gwen? What’s wrong?” Ava asked, tilting her head. Gwen didn’t know what to say. She looked around the corridor, but there wasn’t another soul.

“I don’t know. Something just feels… off.”

“I think you’ve been working too hard,” Mark said, turning back around. “Why don’t you get some rest, we’ll catch up tomorrow.

BOOM!

The entire corridor lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Fireworks shot out bright colors into the castle ceiling and produced dancing creatures of all kinds. The loud noise had startled Ava, Mark and Richard, as the three of them quickly ducked for cover.

Gwen, on the other hand, gave out a laugh, looking up and giving out a long whistle as the creatures disappeared.

“Oi! Come on!” Fred and George stumbled from their hiding spot, looking at her in utter disbelief. She gave them a grin, shrugging her shoulders. Her group rejoined her in the middle of the corridor, looking less than thrilled with the Weasley’s.

Of course, Mr. Filch was also less than thrilled with the mess and fire hazard they had caused. She’d never heard such shouting before. They slumped their shoulders as they were escorted to Professor McGonagall’s office, and given another week’s worth of detention, and lost another ten points each.

“I don’t know what their problem is,” Ava said, sitting with her back against the window. “They keep losing our house points and soon wea not gonna have any.” She put three piles onto the table and pulled out her ink and quill.

“Forget the points,” Mark said, dumping his bag’s contents onto the table. “They’re putting everyone in danger with stupid pranks like that. I mean, the amount of fire hazards from that prank alone could have had devastating consequences.”

“How come you didn’t react? Did you know about it?” Richard sat with his back against the door, moving to put Mark’s items into a controlled space before setting his own books down.

“I didn’t know. I just got a weird feeling. Besides, those weren’t that bad. I mean, you haven’t seen real fireworks till you’ve been to D.C. on the Fourth of July.”

“Wow, you Amaricans are a lot mora tough than I thought.”

As the days passed, Gwen found her excitement for Halloween dwindling. The other students didn’t seem to care about the holiday, seeing as for them, it was always Halloween. They didn’t care for carving pumpkins, there was no way to watch scary movies, and nowhere to go trick-or-treating. The excitement of Halloween was almost non-existent, and that brought her cheerful demeanor down several notches.

Tamsin was the first to notice her shift in behavior. Instead of her normally cheerful jigs, Gwen’s violin seemed to only produce slow and melancholy tunes. Even in the common room, they could hear her sad songs that even made the Fat Friar sad.

She decided that Gwen needed a nice pick me up, and there was no better place for spooky lore than the library. On their way there, another sharp pain shot through her spine, causing her to stop in her tracks. She held out her arm, stopping Tamsin as well. She opened her mouth to protest, but was quickly shushed.

She was not amused by Gwen’s sudden odd behavior and pushed her arms away, placing her hands on her hips. She gave her a pointed look, looking around the semi-empty hallway.

She brushed off her annoyance, watching as Mr. Filch marched down the corridor, Mrs. Norris hot on his heels. He grumbled as he passed the girls, ignoring most of the students as he went to round the corner.

Loud screaming startled the corridor as he fell backwards, legs stuck together like a mermaid. The children’s mouths fell open as Mr. Filch flailed about the floor, yelling and pointing like a mad man. Gwen covered her mouth as Tamsin struggled not to laugh.

It was no surprise when the culprits turned out to be Fred and George. They emerged from around the corner, faces almost as red as their hair. They turned their heads and saw Gwen and Tamsin staring at them, disappointed but not surprised. Fred looked like he could strangle someone as George drew his mouth into a thin line.

“What is going on here?” Professor McGonagall’s voice carried through the corridor loud and clear, effectively silencing everyone except Mr. Filch, who was still flopping around the floor like a fish. She cast an unamused stare down at him before pulling out her wand and giving it a slight wave.

His legs were released and he scrambled to stand up, turning a nasty stare onto the twins. Professor McGonagall held up her hand, silencing him at once. She turned her sharp gaze onto them, releasing a slow and steady breath.

Of course, with his impeccable timing, Peeves came swooping in from another corridor, laughing and pointing at the pair. Though usually excited for the encouragement, both looked like they wanted to throttle the poltergeist.

“Oh ho ho! Looky what we have here! Silly silly boys!” He let out another rambunctious laugh circling above them. Professor McGonagall simply shooed him away, with threats of Dumbledore and the Bloody Baron. He stuck out his tongue before flying away to cause problems somewhere else.

“Everyone, get to your classes. Now.” The other students scrambled to avoid getting detention. Tamsin pulled Gwen along, eager to leave Professor McGonagall’s war path. “As for you two, after your fiascos this month, I see it only fit that you both receive a month’s worth of detentions. As such, you both lose twenty points-- each.” Gwen felt bad that they kept getting into so much trouble, but she couldn’t understand why they did it. No one was laughing, not even them. Hopefully now they learned their lesson.

When Halloween was right around the corner, Gwen found herself in a sour mood almost everyday. Her sunny disposition was nowhere to be seen, and the entire Hufflepuff dorm was filled with her low and somber music. Even Richard was beginning to miss her chatter. Her mood was a mystery to everyone, herself included.

Halloween had always been a happy time in her life. Her family always went trick-or-treating in Grandpa Dave’s nice neighborhood, followed by a trip to a haunted house, and ending the night with a big party at their house. Yet the excitement for her family’s favorite holiday was nonexistent.

“Oh, chea up Gwen,” Ava encouraged. They had just finished their last class of the day and were going to drop their books off in their respective dorms. “My dad told me tha’s always a big feast for Halloween. Sure to be a sight to see.” Gwen shrugged, fiddling with the edges of her notebooks. “Don’ worry, you’ll feel tons betta when you get some suppa in you.”

“Okay.” Gwen waved goodbye as she continued down to the common room.

Most of the students were rushing out of the common room, eager to feast upon the delicious food they’d been smelling throughout the day. She pushed past the sea of hungry students and went to her dorm room, where her dormmates had already deposited their stuff. Heather’s books were piled neatly into her trunk, the lid left open in her haste. Heidi and Maxine had both placed their books on top of their trunks before they’d undoubtedly ran to join Tamsin, whose books laid in a skewed pile on her bed.

Gwen carefully placed her charm book on top of her other books before carefully closing the lid. She shuffled to the common room, which was almost empty save for the other Hufflepuff pets that weren’t owls.

Midnight was amongst them, lazily perched above the fireplace, his tail flicking back and forth. His bright blue eyes watched her carefully as she shuffled through the barrel hole and made her way to join the other students.

Ava’s dad was true to his word, the Great Hall was a spectacle to behold. Candles floated above them, casting a spook-tacular glow around them. The ghosts were floating around as well, moaning and causing quite the ruckus with Peeves. Candy and other Halloween themed food lined all five tables.

Cedric was seated near the end of the Hufflepuff table, chatting with the other Quidditch players. Their first Quidditch game was only a matter of weeks away. He waved her over, giving Tamsin a shove as she chatted with Heidi and Maxine. She moved over without breaking away from her conversation, shoveling her food into her mouth.

Gwen sat between the two, grabbing a fair and healthy serving of food. Cedric returned to his conversation of strategy and Tamsin only offered her a smile. Their plates were piled with delicious food and sweets of every kind, both magical and muggle. Gwen grabbed her fork, but couldn’t bring herself to take anything. She pushed her food around her plate, resting her chin in her hand.

She glanced around the Great Hall. Ava was sitting amongst a group of Gryffindor girls, giggling and chatting. Mark was eating and listening to whatever the other boys in their year were going on about. Richard was seated at the end of the table, a book in his hand as he read and ate silently.

It seemed no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to enjoy the festivities like the other students. Even the ghost choir, who were singing a beautifully haunting melody, couldn’t put her in a good mood.

“You doin’ alright Gwen?” Cedric asked, pulling himself away from his teammates. Gwen let out a sigh, stuffing her mouth with mashed potatoes. “That bad, huh?” She shrugged, keeping her eyes on her lap. He gave her back a gentle rub, moving to eat his own food. She set her fork down, excusing herself from the table and turning in for an early night.

She knew that right about now, her siblings were seated in a circle in their living room, negotiating candy trades, with Kate and Lily easily swindling their other siblings out of their fair share. While that was going on, her parents would be seated on the couch, her dad with his cup of decaf coffee and her mom with her cup of herbal tea, watching in amusement as they waited for guests to arrive.

She knew Aunt Penny would have the coolest costume, and she’d have brought the pumpkin pie cupcakes with the white frosting sprinkled with cinnamon and nutmeg. Uncle Derek would have new ghost stories to tell and games to play.

The only thing Gwen couldn’t figure out was if they missed her as much as she missed them. She wished she could call them and let them know she wanted to be there. She wanted to hear the new story and have one of Aunt Penny’s cupcakes. She wished she could have gone trick-or-treating and carved pumpkins and gone to a haunted house.

Instead, she was left wandering towards her dorm. Maybe if she hadn’t been so deep in thought and self-pity, she would have felt that sharp pinch slither up her spine. Maybe she would have heard the echoes of footsteps and muffled laughter. But alas, as she wound the corner to the stairs towards her common room…

SPLASH!

Water poured down on her, leaving her completely drenched. Her mouth fell open as she let out a gasp, looking around. Fred and George fell from their hiding spot, holding their sides as they howled with laughter. There were tears in their eyes as they rolled around the floor.

Now, Gwen loved a good prank. Pouring water on someone wasn’t too bad, and on any other night, she might have joined in on their laughter with a promise to return the favor. But this wasn’t any other night. And if they’d taken two seconds to look at her, they’d have seen what they did had a worse effect on her than they intended.

Tears welled in her eyes as her lip began quivering. One of the twins, she wasn’t sure which, hit the other, looking at her. Both stopped laughing as her tears began falling down her face. They glanced at each other before they both ran for it. One of them paused, turning their head back briefly before they disappeared from view.

She took a seat at the bottom of the stairs, bringing her knees to her chest. She rested her head on her knees, shivering as her tears mixed with the water dripping from her hair. This had to be, by far, the worst Halloween of her entire life.

“Gwen?”

She lifted her head to see Richard standing in front of her. His hands were gripping his satchel and his brows were furrowed. He took a seat next to her, eyes darting all over her.

“What’re you doing here?” She let out a sniffle, smoothing out her school robes. She used the back of her hand to wipe away her tears, not that it made much of a difference.

“I saw the Weasley twins leave shortly after you did. I wanted to make sure they didn’t do anything. I guess I was too late.” He reached into his bag, scrunching his nose as he pulled out his wand. “Reverte.”

The water vanished from her and left her nice and dry, though she was still cold and her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. She gave a breathy chuckle, using her sleeve to wipe her nose. She thanked him and fiddled with her robe, keeping her gaze down on her robe.

“So, do you want to talk about it?” He tucked his wand back into his bag, scrunching his nose as he fixed his glasses. She shook her head, tucking her knees back under her chin and earning a slight chuckle from him. She turned her head. It was the first time she’d heard him laugh.

“What?”

“First time you don’t want to talk, and it’s the first time you need to. Come on.” He gave her a gentle nudge.

“It has nothing to do with the twins,” she confessed, squeezing her legs. “It’s just-- it’s stupid. Getting worked up over something so silly.” She paused, but he wasn’t giving up that easily. He nudged her again, giving her a pointed look. “It’s just-- me and my family always celebrate Halloween with a big celebration. It’s almost as big as Christmas for my family, and, well, this is my first Halloween I won’t be celebrating with them. I dunno, I guess I just-- I don’t know.”

“It’s okay.” He gave her an awkward pat on the back. “There’s worse things to miss.” She turned her head, giving him a deep frown. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being upset. It was something important to you.” He drew his mouth into a thin line, furrowing his brows. “Why don’t you just write to your family? I’m sure it’ll make you feel better.”

She mauled over his words. He was right, if not for the reason he thought. Both her parents had degrees in psychology and both would be able to help her. She stood up suddenly, startling him into standing as well.

“Thanks Richard. You’re a good friend.” She gave him a strong hug, which, after the initial shock wore off, he returned hesitantly, giving her back a couple awkward pats. She skipped off to her common room, her mood better than it had been for most of the month. The first thing she did was pull out a roll of parchment and a quill.

Dear Reid Family and Extended Loved Ones,

I hope you guys had a spook-tacular Halloween! Mine wasn’t too interesting. Actually, mine wasn’t fun at all. They threw a big feast and had a ghost choir, but there wasn’t any trick-or-treating or haunted houses or Aunt Penny’s cupcakes. I’m sure Uncle Derek had a lot of cool stories to tell. Surprisingly, the ghosts here don’t tell many scary stories. They’re just really, really, really sad. I guess that’s what happens when you’re dead.

On a happier note, I think I’ve entered my first prank war. These two boys, brothers, have been trying to prank me all month. I’ve avoided it for the most part, but they got me today. It wasn’t too bad, just some water, but now I’ve got to think of a good comeback. (I’m looking at you for help Daddy!)

I was a little upset today because I missed you guys, but Richard (that’s my friend in Slytherin) really helped me today. He was actually the one who suggested I write to you guys. I can’t wait to see you all in a couple months for Christmas! I love and miss you all!

Love,

Gwen

She carefully folded the letter and slipped into an envelope before scrawling her mother’s name on it. It was a quick and uneventful trip to the owlery and back to the common room. By her return, most of the students had returned and were heading to bed for tomorrow’s classes.

“Gwen.” Cedric waved his hand, jogging over to her. “You okay? You left pretty early.”

“I’m okay.” She gave him an affirmative nod and a chipper smile. He smiled too, chuckling. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Well, you certainly look happier. Come on. You should get to bed. We still have classes tomorrow.” He nudged her towards her dorm room before he headed off to his own.

She climbed the stairs until she reached her room. Everyone was already asleep, happy in their candy-induced comas. She changed in her pajamas before also climbing into her bed. Midnight jumped onto her bed as well, snuggling right by her face as drifted off.

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weasley-wizard-writes · 1 year

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I absolutely LOVED 'Waiting on a Magpie.' I will say I nearly fucking cried several times throughout it but it was so beautifully written! I was genuinely enjoy if you did make a series. No pressure obviously!

Awww I'm so glad that you liked it, and thank you so much for the feedback! It always means a lot when someone takes the time to let me know they enjoyed something (even if I did request said feedback for the sake of gauging interest in a new series), and this really made my day.

I have changed a lot as a person since I started this blog all those years ago, and every once in a while I worry that I've become a worse writer over the course of years and years of academic essays and journalism pieces, so this really does help me with my confidence as I try to start this blog up again.

Sorry for the little rant there, and thank you so much for the feedback! I've been feeling super creative again lately and seeing any interest at all in my ideas helps me get motivated to make them a reality, so this is just the boost I needed!

I hope you're having a great day anon, and thanks again! <3

#george weasley x reader series #waiting on a magpie #george weasley series #potential series #harry potter fic series #harry potter fics #feedback :)

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incorrectquotesharrypotterv · 6 months

Text

Y/n, texting Hermione: Hermione! Help I'm being kidnapped.

Hermione: Where are you?

Y/n: I'm with some strange person. In a car. Help.

Hermione: I'll call George.

George, answering his phone: Hello?

Hermione: Where's Y/n? They texted me that they were being kidnapped.

George: Y/n? What you mean, they're right next to me-

George:

George: I'll call you back. *hangs up*

George: MY NEW HAIRCUT ISN'T THAT BAD!

Y/n: WHO ARE YOU?!

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the-original-gays · 3 months

Text

Percy: Mum, I have something to tell you. I'm gay. And dating Oliver Wood.

George: Oh, me too! Gay, not dating Oliver.

Ron: I just agreed to be Harry's boyfriend, so I guess I am as well.

Molly: Oh, wow, does anyone in this family like girls?

Ginny: I do.

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odinsonslut · 1 year

Text

Young

⊹ genre: Fluff mostly, minimal angst

⊹ pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin female reader

⊹ themes: Friends to lovers

⊹ summary: Fred rejected your advances, claiming you’re too young. You set out to seduce him, which backfires. Unwarranted comments were made in your presence, and George attempted to comfort you, finally explaining his fears and feelings in the process.

⊹ warnings: Swearing, third-party slut-shaming of the reader, mentions of an emotionally toxic relationship, very brief mention of drugs.

⊹ word count: 1.7k

⊹ a/n: I don’t know why I’ve chosen to base this whole fic off of rejection yet again, but It’s completely different to the last, trust. A cute Fred one today because I’ve had a recent fixation on the twins and can’t seem to write for anyone else atm.

Confidence has come naturally to you since the first day you walked through the castle doors. Many would wager that’s why you ended up in Slytherin over Hufflepuff. You’d never had issues letting people know how you felt about them; rejection had never been a concern or a fear simply because your self-assurance wasn’t so easily deteriorated.

This wasn’t ever in question until two weeks ago. You hadn’t thought twice about approaching Fred after months of mutual teasing, or so you thought it was. You went to his spot on Gryffindor’s table in the morning, greeting him with a single pumpkin pasty. You waited till he took a bite out of it before making some quip that you couldn’t seem to, or rather didn’t want to remember, about owing you a kiss and maybe something more in return for it, to which he painfully, tragically mustered a chuckle past his lips, probably the most awkward position I’ve seen him in, before finally finding the words to let you down easily.

“You know I love you endlessly, but we’re friends” He could’ve just as easily stopped there, but he continued.

“You’re just a little too young for me.”

Young

He briefly dated Amelia Farrow last spring, and she’s four months younger than you, so obviously, it wasn’t an age issue. He saw you as immature, a kid. He couldn’t even begin to picture you as attractive in any form. Actually, feeling affected as a result of rejection was unfamiliar; it was scary. How had you allowed yourself to feel enough for a man that your own stability suffered? As a result, you didn’t just feel hurt, you felt inferior, and that was harrowing enough in itself.

You were just beginning to fall into another rant directing every expressional detail from the twitch of his bottom lip to the scrunch in his left brow when you were interrupted by a loud sigh.

“Babe, I couldn’t live a day without you, but swooning over a blood-traitor Weasley is way more than I can handle for the 7th time this morning”, Pansy quipped after a supportive kiss on my cheek.

“Give me a solution then”, you pleaded, faux pouting while hugging her thighs desperately.

“Seduce him, love; you’ve got the best ass on anyone in this entire school. Malfoy tells me he’s got a preference for it, says he lets a lot slip when they’re off smoking muggle grass.”

“Teach me how. You’re probably the only girl in our year every Slytherin male wants to shag a second time.”

It was the first quidditch match of the year, so naturally, you put on your uniform from 3rd year to cheer the team on. Malfoy found your overreaction to rejection amusing, like a fish out of water, to use his words, so he didn’t mind playing the role of the pawn in your game. You spent all game cheering Draco on, making sure you were just enthusiastic enough to attract Fred’s attention.

The game finally came to an end. Gryffindor just barely scraped by, with Harry catching the snitch. I could already see Oliver Wood pushing Fred about, demanding a valid reason for his poor performance during the game. He pushed Wood off of him and stormed off with an exasperated look on his face.

I caught up to him a few feet away, deciding to skip past the jokes, figuring he wasn’t quite in the mood.

“Hey, you okay?” I timidly asked, reaching out to stroke his hand

“You sure move on quick, don’t you?” He spoke harshly, ignoring my question completely

“Are you serious? You reject me, then get mad at my attempts to move past that?” I shoved his shoulder, feigning annoyance. I knew exactly what I was doing, trying to prompt a reaction out of him.

“And what the hell are you wearing? Damn near sent Adrian Pucey spiralling into the benches with your ass out like that.”

“So I had both team’s beaters distracted, huh?”

“I wasn’t distracted so much as horrified.” He immediately followed

You shoved him playfully. “Shut up, weasel. You’re literally still staring at my tits.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t put that outfit on for me to stare at?” He whispered as we came to a halt just outside the quidditch changing rooms

To my dismay, I couldn’t think of anything to do or say but scoff at him, to which his grin grew even bigger.

He turned to leave, my brain regaining activity without the pressure of his eyes in contact with mine.

“I put it on so you’d have a clearer image to jack off to tonight.”

I headed back to my dorm before he could get another word in.

I approached the great hall hand in hand with Daphne Greengrass, completely satisfied with the way I left things with Fred yesterday, convinced I’d won. The smile on my face immediately dropped as I heard the conversation taking place at the Gryffindor table.

“- he’s even got a Slytherin girl in his pocket, dressing up like a little slut just for him.”

“Tell me, Weasley, does she like it rough?”

“Seems like the kind of girl that’d take it in the back.”

Your heart dropped as you heard comments from miscellaneous men in the house, jeering over each other, collectively patting an angry-looking Fred on his back and shoulders in a congratulatory manner.

We made eye contact. Before the men at his table sensed my presence, too, I broke away from Daphne and sprinted out of the Hall. I sank by a tree in front of the lake as I took shallow breaths.

What hurts is that every assumption they made about my character felt deserving. When did I become the girl so desperate for one man’s attention that I so pathetically made myself more sexually desirable in his eyes? So that his lust would cloud his judgement and throw me lay at the very least? I hadn’t even realised how delirious I was acting and how painfully obvious it was to everyone but me just how much more I clung to the idea of him. It was like a montage of clarity was playing in my brain, of the way I continued running up to the Gryffindor common room every morning, taking every opportunity to make what I thought was subtle physical contact with him. God.

I let out a little yelp when I finally opened my eyes. Fred sat right next to me, leaning his head against the tree the same way I was.

“God, you scared me half to death! fucking cunt” I muttered the last part, allowing my anger to peak through

“I had Malfoy help me make sure those guys’ mouths stay shut. I’m sorry you had to hear that, and I’m sorry they were able to say more than two words without me hexing them and their mothers, to begin with. None of what any of them said is worth your care. They heard us talking outside the changing rooms yesterday. They’re all jealous little virgins that have-

“They were things I needed to hear” I cut him off before he fell into a rant that honestly wouldn’t have made a difference to the way I felt.

He looked at me incredulously, struggling to find the words to respond.

“I was seeking your attention so incredibly desperately. It embarrasses me to think about it. You said no; I should’ve respected that and left it as it was. I took your reasoning personally, and for the way I’ve acted since that day, I apologise, truly,” I continued.

He sighed. “I only said what I said out of fear. I’m sure you remember I briefly dated a Hufflepuff girl in your year, Amelia. I made a mistake getting involved with her. She didn’t know how to separate love from attachment, and it got to a point her dependence on me started affecting her mental well-being, along with mine. Nobody saw much of me during the time we were dating because I was just so caught up with making sure she was okay since she relied on me completely. I didn’t realise I was even allowed to have boundaries at all in a relationship. She constantly made me feel selfish and uncaring for wanting space or even just time with my family. When you told me how you felt about me, I had recovered from the relationship, but I hadn’t yet allowed myself to consider a future relationship with another person. I said what I thought I needed to say to avoid our relationship turning into the one I had with Amelia. But ever since you told me how you felt about me, it made me realise nothing about us has ever been platonic to me. I have never thought of you that way, and even when I tried to, I didn’t know how to look at you in any other way than lovingly. I feel so much for you. I could see myself loving you so easily. I’m just really afraid. I don’t know if I’m ready to navigate that all over again.”

It took me a while to respond, taking in everything he said in a state of such vulnerability. I noticed a stray tear on my skirt; it was his. I immediately reached out to hold his hands in comfort. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off yet again.

“I will never allow anyone to say a word against you ever again, love.” He added

“I care a lot about you, Fred. I reacted the way I did, with such force and conviction, because it’s unfamiliar to me too, feeling so deeply for someone. Whatever you want to come from this, we can do. I want to learn to keep my independence through my feelings for you. I don’t think declaring something more than friendship will change things between us overnight, and I think all we need to do is keep being us.”

“Okay”, he responded timidly but surely.

He could’ve just stopped there, but I’d come to learn that’s never something to expect from him.

“I absolutely did jack off to you last night, though.”

I kicked him in the shin as we walked back to the castle, hand in hand.

End

✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩

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george-weasleys-girl · 9 months

Text

North Star Series

NSFW Alphabet for George & Y/N

18+ only

~•~

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

George is the king of aftercare. And, while he insists on taking care of the cleanup, it's still very much a mutual activity. Showering together and taking turns washing each other. Cuddles, kissing, checking in with one another, especially if they tried something new or things got a little rough.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself - his arms. He's very protective of Y/N and loves how he can wrap them around her, cocooning her in his warmth and safety.

On Y/N - her hips. He adores the way they sway when she walks and how she knows exactly how to use them in bed to drive him absolutely crazy.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

George, first and foremost, loves cumming inside her. But, he admits there is just something so satisfying about seeing Y/N covered in his seed.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It happened during the week George stayed with Y/N while she was sick with the flu. He's never told anyone about it, including Y/N. Despite knowing she wouldn't care, he's still too embarrassed and ashamed about the whole matter.

George had a nightly ritual of masturbating before going to sleep. During the week she was sick, he'd wait until Y/N was asleep, then slip off to the bathroom and take care of business. One night, he couldn't get away. She was asleep but had managed to wrap herself tightly around his arm, preventing him from moving without waking her up. After almost an hour of trying to ignore his raging hard-on, he slipped his hand beneath the covers and jacked himself off, then used his wand to quickly clean up the mess.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Both were virgins when they got together. It was a bit of trial and error in the beginning, but they spent a lot of time experimenting and exploring each other. It didn’t take long for them to learn how to make each other feel amazing.

F = Favorite Position

Any position that allows them to see each other's face. The only exception is 69.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

George can be a bit silly at first, but once things really get going, he's very focused on the task at hand.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

George will trim things occasionally, but since Y/N doesn't care either way, it's not a priority.

And yes, the carpet most definitely match the drapes.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

They're both incredibly intimate during sex, even quickies, holding each other close, hands roaming over as much of one another's bodies as possible, deep passionate kisses...

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

They both masturbated daily before getting together. And while the frequency is less now, they still indulge and have incorporated it into their sex life, often enjoying mutual masturbation/showing off to one another.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

DIY Porn - It all started when Y/N was in the US, and they sent risqué moving photos to each other. Then George figured out how to rig the cameras to make very short films, and it just took off from there.

Praise kink - This is especially important for George. After feeling second-best for most of his life, he needs to know he's doing a good job.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

In the warmer months the rooftop was their favorite. But once the weather cooled down and now with Death Eaters flying around at all hours of the day and night, the bedroom has taken the top spot.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

"Everything Little Thing She Does is Magic." Seriously. It really doesn't take much to turn George on.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sharing. Nope. Not happening. George has had to share everything with Fred his entire life. Y/N is his and his alone.

Pain. Aside from a playful slap on Y/N's ass or the occasional love bite, neither have found inflicting or receiving pain as particularly arousing.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

They both love giving and receiving oral equally. That's why they enjoy 69ing so much. They will go for hours slowly teasing and pleasuring each other.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It really just depends on the situation. If they're squeezing in a quickie, it's fast and hard. All other times George likes to draw it out as long as possible.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

While they both prefer proper sex, they're certainly not adverse to the occasional quick romp. Usually, in her lab, during one of George’s breaks.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

As far as experimentation goes, they'll try almost anything once.

George is definitely the riskier of the two, but he'd never force Y/N into a situation where she's uncomfortable.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

George can go for one, maybe two rounds. But he can last for HOURS.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

George had invented a few things for each of them to use while they were separated, but they rarely use them now that they're together again.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

George loves to tease, but he can never maintain doing it for long. The side effect of getting Y/N riled up is that he gets himself riled up as well, and one thing leads to another very quickly.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

George tends to be quiet in the beginning, with little moans and whimpers, but gets louder as he gets closer to his climax.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

They set their alarm an hour early every morning so they have time to start the day properly.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, pictures, or words)

Everything about this man is long and slender.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

There's no such thing as having too much sex. Right?

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Once the aftercare is done and they're snuggled up in bed, it doesn't take long. A matter of minutes.

~•~

@milivanili99 @slytherclaw1978 @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @fancy-pantaloons @samberriejams @totalwitch2 @aslanvez @mrsgweasley @morally-grey-obsessed @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @planetkt @thankyouforanonymity @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @peachesgaeass @Yoursarahg

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem!reader #north star series #george weasley smut

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sleepyremu · 6 months

Text

being the significant other of people on the quidditch team

summary // short little headcannons of what it would be like to be the s/o of golden trio era quidditch players

warnings // mentions of celebratory sex 😝 i can make a more nsfw version y’all like this 🤭

authors note // hi i’m gonna be active again!! i will def post a marauders era version of this too

golden era:

harry potter

harry likes inviting you to watch him practice while you do your homework, especially when it’s warmer out

he swears he does better at practice when you’re there

you love seeing his concentrated face when oliver is giving him pointers on maneuvering his broom in new ways to be faster when he spots the snitch

you love the crinkle in his nose that he has when he’s spotted the wings and is trying to figure out where it has gone next

he’s got to be so cute when he wins

like seeing you in the stands after he catches the snitch?? UGH!!!

i feel like he would have a little signal or motion or something he would do during a game when he sees you to let you know that he’s thinking of you

think like blowing a kiss or something of the sort

he would do it right before the whistle is blown and maybe even when he’d catch the snitch to let you know that he won for you

i don’t think he’d ever let you forget that he LOVES when you’re beaming at him from the stands, even when all of gryffindor is cheering for him, all he can think of is your smile and laugh

he would love celebratory one-on-one time. harry is NOT a super big partier after every single game, he’d rather spend quiet time with you in the common room just enjoying how you feel in his arms

the greatest prize for him is just time with the person he loves the most

i get this headcannon a lot with james, and i think harry has it too where he LOVES seeing you in his jersey 🫢

he’d find you so hot beautiful wearing his name plastered on his back

fred weasley

fred loves to make a total show out on the field for you

he winks at you every time he smacks a beater into that guy from slytherin who just won’t take the hint that you’re his girl

he loves impressing you on his broom, doing tricks and goofing off just to make you smile

this guy is the total opposite of harry when it comes to how he likes to spend time after winning

fred is the life of the party. he’s so hyper and excited when he wins and he loves to take it out on you

if he can catch your hand after gryffindor rushes out onto the field, he’ll whisper something about meeting him near the bathroom in 15 minutes

if we’re talking celebratory sex, fred weasley is the king

he relishes in winning and getting your kind reassurances that he did a good job and that you’re proud of him

“freddie, let me give you a proper celebration, hm?”

“say no more, darling.”

fred loves to celebrate not only with you, but with everyone in gryffindor

he is so cocky and full of himself but in the most charming and sexy way

he knows he deserves the attention

he would be dragging you to parties after games and making you take shots to celebrate his victory

“cmon, love, just one drink f’me? i did so well on the field for you, let me get my pretty girl all hot and bothered like i was lookin at her in the stands…”

george weasley

george has never really showed off during practice than when you happen to walk by the quidditch pitch when you first started dating

some feeling took over him when he saw you in your cute scarf and hands in your pockets, grinning at him with a scrunched nose

he just had an instinct to speed up and down the pitch, spinning on his broom towards you and hard stopping right next to you to peck you on the cheek

he didn’t have to look behind him as he went to join the rest of his team to know your cheeks had flushed and you had frozen in place

that was the first form of pda between you two and you knew he only did it because he just couldn’t help himself

he somehow always finds a way of twisting his own victory into celebrating you

he’d find a reason to buy YOU a gift because HE won his match

this sick twisted adorable little game of his always has you preemptively trying to avoid getting presents from him

“george, why are you buying ME a necklace when YOU won your match?”

“just think of it as my reward for doing such a good job, hm? i get to see my princess wearing jewelry a winner got for her. just makes me wanna keep making her proud.”

george is a happy mix of celebrating with just you and with the entire house of gyffindor

he can get behind a massive function after a well deserved win (aka any time gyffindor beats slytherin)

unlike fred, he doesn’t have all that energy built up needing to be released right after a game

he lets his victory deep into him all the way before he celebrates with sex

he’s so sweet and intimate normally, but some sort of switch turns on when he is successful in a match

he takes his time basking in a victory, and slow and loving sex turns him on so much

draco malfoy

he’s very nonchalant when you pass by him during practice, he knows he doesn’t need to impress you and boy does he have fun being a cocky son of a bitch about it

“darling, i could do tricks for you on the pitch, but you know i don’t need to do anything except look at you to get your heart all funny.”

he likes that you give him his space when he plays because he lets you in on every other part of his life, and he appreciates that you understand he likes having something that is reserved just for him

draco is a very possessive boyfriend (it’s not new information, i know)

he thinks it’s so hot when you wear his jersey to his game

you’d surprise him in his dorm, just the two of you, before he heads to his game, wearing his name on your back and smiling and he’d just freeze

you would get scared for a moment, thinking you did something wrong and that it was too much too soon

but that fear would dissipate in a few seconds as he cracked a stupid grin and peppered kisses all over your face and neck, telling you how good you looked

he’ll pull you into his arms after his game when everyone is on the pitch and says lowly in your ear

“merlin, you have no idea what you’re in for when none of these people are watching us. you were such a distraction, baby.”

draco isn’t a very clingy person, and typically he’s not very grandiose about your relationship

so when slytherin is partying after a victory, he’s not all over you the whole night

he’ll let you talk to your friends and you let him celebrate with his team

but he never loses his manners

i bet his mama taught him that

he’ll come up to you offering to refill your drink, asking if you need anything, firmly holding your hips to his when he talks to you and promising he’ll check up on you in 20 minutes before he gives you a departing squeeze to your hand

he knows the two of you had your fun right after the game in the locker room and will probably mess around a little more after the party to celebrate his win

oliver wood

quidditch is life for him. you know how important the sport is and you respect how seriously he takes it

it doesn’t go unnoticed whatsoever

he can see you trying your best to keep up with his rants and intently listening to his words, even if you weren’t quite sure what all of them meant

he never gave up the chance to rant to you about a recent match he watched or an idea for a new play

he appreciated that you attempted to absorb his words, and just knowing that you were happy to sit and listen to him talk for ages sent a sweet tightening feeling to his chest

oliver would be the type to try and teach you how to ride a broom and tell you that you were amazing at flying even if it was terribly obvious you and a broomstick was a disaster waiting to happen

“you’re a natural, y/n!”

“oliver, i love you, but please don’t lie like that to my face.”

“but you look so adorable after you’ve fallen into the mud- ow! don’t pinch me! this is my scoring arm.”

oliver shamelessly invited you to come to every single practice he held so you could see him in his element

he always had the cheekiest grin on his face when he won, and it kept with him when he met back up with you

he had the most incredibly stupid little victory dance and you thought it was so cute

once, for christmas, you bought him golden snitch boxers you thought were so funny that you could have sworn he’d thrown away

he genuinely wore them because they were from you (and also they were surprisingly soft and stretchy)

you knew he actually wore them because on laundry days, you would see them pretty frequently in the freshly done basket of laundry

“y/n, they’re my lucky underwear.”

oh come on guys how could we deny that oliver wood loves to be called “captain” after he wins a match?

he’d like taking you semi-publicly, like in the locker room, and you calling him “captain” or “sir” just stirred something in him that made him even more fiery than he usually was after winning a game

#harry potter #harry potter series #hp fandom #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #fred weasley #george weasley #fred weasley x reader #george wealsey x reader #draco malfoy #draco x reader #oliver wood #quidditch #golden trio era

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donaweasley · 11 months

Text

A Walk in the Dark

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Plot:

After an awkward incident involving your one and only crush George Weasley, he tries to sort the uncomfortable situation out. But will it lead to some revelations or...just a heartache?

Previous chapter: Everything is Fair in Love and War

Warnings: Teenage, high school fluff.

Read time: ~10 mins

Note: I've assumed that the reader is 14 years of age here but you're free to put in any number you like! And you can put the reader in any house you wish to!

Next story in the sequence coming up!!

The morning was eventful, with Fred, Ron, Ginny and Molly of all people, assuming that George and (Y/N) had shared their first kiss in the redhead’s room while the rest were downstairs. Yes, pretty much embarrassing, given the fact that the visitor was buried deep in her humongous crush on her said best friend. And disappointing, too, given that George was furious at them, which subsequently made her conclude that he was repelled at the thought of any kind of romance with his best friend.

The rest of the day was awkward. (Y/N)’s heart was wearing a frown but she had to keep her bubbly personality up to show everyone that she didn't give a damn about who thought what about George and her. She did, to be honest, give a damn...or two...quite a lot, actually. George had calmed down but she found him being slightly uncomfortable around her. She attributed it to her own dejected mind, and called it a figment of her imagination.

After dinner that night, when they were all seated in the living room, George slipped in to sit beside his bestie for a brief moment.

"Wait until everyone's gone", he breathed into her ear. His warmth, once again, aroused those tickles in her stomach which had taken the poor girl almost all day to quieten.

For the rest of the night, she couldn't focus on the conversation anymore as her head was muddled with questions as to why he might have asked her to stay back.

Why?

"You okay, (Y/N)?" She almost jumped out of her seat when Ginny called her.

"What? Yeah. Yes. I'm okay. Just...just thinking that I haven't called my parents for two days now. I should call them tomorrow. Can you please remind me?"

"Yup. Okay!" She smiled reassuringly.

"Great! So we're all going out tomorrow evening", Ron's face brightened up.

As the night grew older, the group of friends became more and more tired, and most of them eventually retired to bed. Had (Y/N) not been on the verge of imploding, she would have probably fallen asleep on the couch.

The twins and (Y/N) were usually the last to go to bed. So, there they were, seated on the floor near the couch. Fred was just about to jump to another topic when George stopped him.

"Fred, you go, I'll be coming in a while", he said.

Fred stared at his twin as if the latter had grown another head.

"After what you did this morning, I don't owe you an explanation. I owe you a prank. Pulled on you", George clarified before Fred could ask anything.

This made her giggle.

"Fine, I'm going but..." Fred tried to feign a tragic face.

"That's okay, brother, I won't make out with her", the younger twin put an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder.

"Hey!" Thoroughly embarrassed, she tried to give him an offended look.

"What? You want me to make out with you?"

She just prayed that neither of them would see the heat creeping up her ears.

"Shut up, George. It's not funny."

Fred sat there staring at the duo with furrowed brows while George and (Y/N) chuckled nervously.

"Alright, then", Fred finally spoke up, "I'll leave. (Y/N), I hope that you won't break my heart." Very theatrically, the older twin put a hand over his chest.

"I'll remember, drama queen!"

With a quick hug, Fred left her with his brother but not before glancing at them over his shoulder with a wicked smile plastered on his face. And once again, George and (Y/N) descended into that uncomfortable silence.

"So?" She broke the silence.

"So..."

George pondered for a while.

"Care for a walk?" He finally said.

"Now? This late?"

"Don't worry, I won't bite", he winked, and she melted into a puddle beside him. It was a relief that he didn't notice.

Probably. Hopefully.

"It's not your bite that I fear, mister. It's the...dogs...and other..things", She said quietly.

"You mean, ghosts?"

"Shh!"

George laughed. "You forget that you're living with a ghoul here!"

(Y/N) shuddered at the mere thought of it. She had never seen it although the sounds and the stories were enough to scare the shit out of her.

"Really?" George was still laughing, "after all these years of living with ghosts at the school, you're still scared?"

"They are ghosts of Hogwarts! They are a part of the school. Okay, I'll go. Let's drop this topic. Right. Now."

"Alright! But I can't guarantee anything."

"Guarantee what?"

"Well...y'know...about what we might meet on the way."

"Shut up! I'm not scared! I'll have you by my side!" She wrapped an arm around his.

"Aha? What if I am not me...?"

"Shove off!" She pushed him away. "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

George was laughing. "Okay! Okay! Come."

He pulled her up and gently pushed her towards the door.

It was refreshing outside. The moon was a thin curve against the clear starlit sky. The cool breeze and the quietude soon made (Y/N) forget the events of the day and the turmoil in her mind calmed down a bit. But as soon as George stepped beside her, her “stupid” mind - as she called it - transformed the entire scenario into a romantic one.

Ugh!

"It was getting stuffy inside", George smiled.

"Yes, it was...kind of. … Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Why you brought me here, of course."

"Why? Can't a guy ask his best friend out on a walk?" He feigned hurt.

She rolled my eyes, "Of course, he can. But you forget that I know you only too well to know when you simply need a walk and when you're bursting to say something."

He smiled sheepishly, "Caught me, huh?"

"As always!"

"Okay", he inhaled deeply, and the butterflies in her stomach started fluttering violently in anticipation.

"This might sound odd. No, it's definitely going to sound odd", he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

Oh, those usual signs of nervousness! But why is he nervous?

Inside her head, a voice was screaming in anticipation, "Oh! C'mon, just say it Georgie!!"

"Okay, look. What happened in the morning...y'know with my family saying those weird things and all...well, you're not mad, are you?"

"What? No! Not at all!" She tried to sound absolutely casual. "Why?"

"No, it's just...it was awkward, and..."

"And?"

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, "I noticed that you were a bit off after that. So..."

"Oh!" She had to come up with a lie, and quickly. "I was just thinking that...umm... it's so much fun at your house, and I'll have to leave in 5 days. Yeah. That was what made me sad." She gave him her widest smile.

He smiled back, clearly not convinced at the flimsy explanation, "You sure?"

"Yes. Of course." She noticed him looking suspiciously at her, and so she looked away.

"You looked somewhat uncomfortable yourself. All okay?" She smartly diverted the questions towards him.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine”, he replied nervously.

"You sure?" She tried to mimic him.

George laughed, "Yes. It's just that", he stopped walking, "I was worried about what you might be thinking. You looked slightly upset."

He was looking at anywhere but her, and shifting his weight on his feet. "I don't want to lose my best friend, y'know", he finally looked at her after a pause.

"Best friend", She thought. "I wish I were a little more than that to you, Georgie."

"You won't", She smiled and took his hand in hers. "Never." She held out her pinkie towards him.

"Pinkie promise?" He laughed. "Really?"

"Umm, yeah! Let's say this is our version of the unbreakable vow."

"Okay", he locked his pinkie with hers, "done!"

"Done!"

They both laughed. And then somewhere in that happy moment the laughter faded away and was replaced by silence. A comfortable silence where only their eyes and smiles spoke. For a moment (Y/N) thought that she saw the same love in his eyes as she held for him.

But no. That’s impossible. He has just confirmed it himself. I’m his best friend. Only his best friend.

She decided to act before her emotions got the better of her.

"Let's go", She tugged lightly on his little finger which was still locked with hers.

"Oh!" His smile dropped, "You're sleepy?"

"No. I just...I don't know. You want to stay here longer? I don't mind. It's pretty nice out here anyway"

"No, it's okay, we can go. No problem. Besides, who knows what might be lurking in the shadows." He looked around with a frown but his eyes shouted "mischief".

"Ha ha! You can't scare me, Weasley. Besides, I have my best friend with me. He'll protect me", She smiled at him.

"Yeah, you can count on that", he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

I wish you knew what you're doing to me, Georgie!

"So", he spoke in that peculiar tone which was always followed by a mischief, "I remember you saying that you are not afraid of...my bite!"

For the God-knows-how-many-times that day her ears heated up again.

"Where are you headed exactly?" She asked him with furrowed brows.

"Just saying", he shrugged, "what if I'm a vampire in disguise? See, I have brought you this far from home, on a dark night, in the wee hours. And I'm so attractive that you couldn't say no to me. Now", he leaned closer, "what if I grow fangs and-"

She punched his chin.

"Ow! You little villain, you!"

"Oh! Did the little, weak human hurt the mighty vampire?"

He groaned.

"Now stop that acting, and let's go home before they start thinking that we have gone off snogging again."

At this, George straightened up and forgot all about his drama. (Y/N) raised a brow at him. Smiling sheepishly, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder once again, and they started off towards the Burrow.

"You know, George, if you try to scare me once again, I'll bite you."

George chuckled, "I wish!"

"What?" She froze.

"What?" His eyes were as big as saucers.

(Y/N) stared at him. "What did you just say?"

"What did I just say?" He gulped nervously. "I said 'you wish!'. Yes, I said 'Hah! You wish!'"

"Noooo..." She was sure she heard something else.

"Oh! (Y/N), you're hearing things. What else would I say? Come now, let's get inside before you start seeing things."

He pulled her towards his home which was now only a few more steps away. His words were still ringing in her ears. She looked up at him. Even in the dark, she could make out the tint of pink on his cheeks.

What the hell is going on?

They stepped inside, and George carefully locked the door.

"Care for some snacks?" He asked a bit nervously.

"Nope. I'll just get some sleep."

"Yeah. Me too."

He walked her till Ginny's door.

"Alright, good night, mate", he held out his fist.

"Good night", she punched it lightly.

Instead of heading upstairs to his room, George still stood there as if debating with his thoughts. Both the twins and (Y/N) usually hugged before going to bed but given the incidents of the day, it wouldn't be a surprise if they were having second thoughts.

After watching George's unrest state for a few seconds, she decided to drop her guard and take action.

"Hey", she touched his arm, "come here."

She wrapped her arms around his waist. It seemed to work instantly because she felt him relax. The next second, his long arms had her enveloped in a bear hug, swaying her lightly.

"Thanks", he smiled when they pulled apart.

"Idiot!"

"What? Why?"

"Nothing. Now go. It's pretty late."

He stood there, waiting for an explanation.

"Goooo!" She turned him around and pushed him.

He laughed, "Okay, as you say. Good night!"

"Good night", she smiled.

That night, (Y/N) went to bed with a heavy heart, knowing that the boy on whom she had been crushing for so many months now, sees her only as his best friend.

That night, George went to bed wondering if he had let go of the only chance of conveying his feelings to the girl who he had been in love with for over a year now.

***

Taglist:

@olivetheoryx @yep4nai @scram1326 @ariaterum @persephone13 @gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley @nunanuggets @lolhelpimtired @madmadgirlperson @dontfallinlovelol @r4ttusr4ttus @emilykolchivans @queerponcho @loveforweasley @turvi @lovers-111 @waitforiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit @justafangir1 @the-holy-trinity-l @minatozsana @baddiebbarbietngz @moomscore

#george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #harry potter imagine #hogwarts fandom #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem #george weasley fluff #george weasley cute #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fandom #george weasley love #george weasley series

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beautifulbuckys · 1 year

Text

The Fire and the Flame [1/8]- George Weasley x Reader

“Impossible is in, I don’t know if you know that.”

“You’re impossible, did you know that?” George laughed, standing up and pushing himself out of the ancient wooden chair. As he stood, the chair creaked, even louder when he relieved the back of the wood from his heavy book bag.

Summary: As Quidditch season starts, your schedule gets flooded with Quidditch players who are too busy with their schoolwork. What happens when your newest pupil isn’t what you thought he was?

A/N: Hi! This is my small dabble back into writing, I really missed it <3

Quidditch season was fun, sure.

The thrill of typically innocent house-to-house competition was thrilling. Everyone rooted for their team, sports lover or not. Some muggleborns compared it to muggle ‘futball’. The constant woosh that Quidditch players made from feet above you, balancing beautifully on their thin broomsticks.

What wasn’t fun? The influx of students needing to be tutored. Sure, you loved tutoring those in need. Though typically, the students you tutored were having genuine struggles. It was a different kind of magic to watch a subject click for someone struggling. During Quidditch season, it was a different story. Nobody was struggling because they didn’t understand why you needed a frog eye for the midnight projection potion. They weren’t struggling because they couldn’t grasp the certain hand flicks needed for more advanced charms. People were now struggling simply because they were falling behind. This especially happened to the Quidditch players themselves. You honestly can’t blame them. They’re amazing at a celebrated sport and they’re committed to something grand! However, it’s frustrating when you’re mandated to tutor them and they act like you’re a burden for being required to. Every single time you’ve tried to tutor the star chaser, they’ve given you a sour attitude and made you feel small.

Amd now? You’re stuck in the library waiting for your newest Quidditch star pupil to arrive.

It was almost curfew, but tutors get an excuse as we’re hand selected by the heads of our houses. Pupils gain that advantage too, if they select the late time slot. Although it’s judging a book by its cover, many Quidditch players suspiciously chose this time slot.

Quietly, you assemble your Wizardry Poetry textbooks that you’ve been studying for the year. Wizardry Poetry is a small, less popular elective. Many people that take the class take it to get out of Snape’s detentions, as he seems to have a small space in his miniscule heart for her. Nobody calls him out for it, they just quietly take advantage of the crush. Although it’s not the most popular, it’s exciting. In your opinion, poetry is a light shone into a dark corner nobody wants to explore. Poetry is raw emotion, something people typically cower away from at the opportunity. That’s what makes wizard poetry so exciting. Many pieces written by the famous wizard poets highlight the balance between dark magic and light. It’s a weapon used by those already wielding a powerful tool.

“Erm,” A deep voice suddenly broke the calming silence of the Hogwarts library. “Are you my poetry tutor?”

You picked your head up from your bookbag, noticing the tall Gryffindor beater standing sadly behind the seat across from you. “Oh yes! Hi. Feel free to take a seat,” You cringed at the formalities. The pupils you’re used to aren’t shy about loudly announcing their presence and obnoxiously filling the small table space. This was new. “George, right?”

He nodded, “How’d you know?”

You chuckled quietly. “You’re the quieter of the two.” The boy said nothing in response to this, seemingly validating your point. Although you’re not particularly friends with the 2 boys, you knew them. You were in the same year and had a few classes with the twins. This is how you knew the difference. Both George and Fred were in your potions class. They sat next to each other, to nobody’s surprise. Fred, who always sat on the left, had a knack for clanging glasses together and making unnecessary comments. Although they were together in that class, you could just tell George was more reserved than his brother. They both laughed together and made jokes, but it was obvious. George was in your Wizardry Poetry class. When it’s just him, his reserved nature becomes a lot more apparent. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly are you struggling with?”

You knew him in class. He definitely wasn’t struggling. He grasped the subject pretty strongly whenever he was called upon to read or make a comment. To an outsider, he might’ve been a poet already.

“Well, honestly, I’m just more busy than anything else. Quidditch is just getting to the exciting part of the season and I have sunrise practices every morning. The team’s practice schedule is no joke,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “And honestly? I think poetry is kind of stupid,”

Stupid?

“Poetry isn’t stupid.”

“Sure it is,” George said. “It’s boring and tries to be all deep and stuff. Maybe if it took itself a little less seriously I’d feel the opposite,”

You shouldn’t be as offended as you are. You strongly disagreed with him. Poetry was a gorgeous example of literary art. Sure, it can be difficult to scan for meaning and purpose. However, you feel that the payoff of understanding the raw emotion written by an artist. “Whatever you say George, I’m not here to change your mind, just change your grade. Have you started the assignment she gave us on Tuesday?”

Our poetry teacher assigned us an arguably simple project due at the end of the semester. We were expected to craft a page long piece of poetry about our experiences with magic. She said we had full creative capabilities with our projects, and she wasn’t going to judge or grade our topic chosen. She was mostly looking for our understanding of poetry and is expecting us to pull ideas from previous wizard poets.

George gently shook his head, the shoulder-length red hair he grew out dancing on his shoulders. “Nope,” He popped the ‘P’ in nope, flashing a cheeky smile.

This was going to be a long few weeks.

As George and I reviewed his work and created an academic plan to ensure he doesn’t fall behind, it became painfully obvious why George was failing. He grasped the subject with the grip of a giant. It’s not that he didn’t understand stanzas and line numbers. George just didn’t have a reason to care. He had no aspiration of ever becoming a poet, and it became noticeable that George only joined the class to get out of Snape’s detentions. It didn’t make sense though. How could he understand so much and just not care? Did he not have a personal connection to the class?

Maybe all he needed was a lifeline.

“I think this session was really helpful to you George. Please remember, we’re meeting Thursday at the same time,”

George raised his eyebrows at you, awkwardly grinning. “I might have a surprise Quidditch practice,”

“Why would you know about it if it was a secret, George?” Was he seriously trying to skip out on our session? You found that the session was something that could strengthen George’s academic record. It also helps that he was someone actually enjoyable to talk to. Who knows, maybe you could even teach him the real magic of poetry while you were at it.

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sweetpandorabox · 1 year

Text

George Weasley as a Boyfriend 🧨🦁

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Warnings ⚠️: Slight mentioned of sexual themes and some spicy stuff.

Dating this mischief-maker yet kinder and handsome twin could include:

👨🏻‍🦰👂🏻🧹

He's very affectionate but in the most caring way, unlike Fred who's more playful he learns how to style your hair for you (like braids and ponytails) by asking Ginny to teach him, instead of holding hands like most couples do, he offers you a piggyback ride everywhere so you don't have to walk. He gives you a playful noogie when you tease him, tucks your hair behind your ear so he can see your face better, randomly making out of nowhere because he really needs it, and of course some light pranks here and there to make you laugh.

He and you aren't allowed to sit together in any classes that the two of you share together, not because of PDA since he's usually more lowkey rubbing your thigh under the table, but because the both of you just cannot stop laughing around each other for no reason which distracts the whole class.

The both of you wear a matching bracelet that George made himself, you wear his initial in yours and he wears your initial in his, and the two of you made a promise to each other not to take it off ever or not lose it, all to show that the two of you belong together.

He's a really patient boyfriend, no matter how angry you are and taking it all out on him or how annoyed and upset he gets he's never once raised his voice at you or dumped all his frustration at you in any way. He's even the first one to apologize after every fight, even if he didn't start it.

He calls you cute nicknames like Babe, Gorgeous, Dream Girl, or Precious.

Likes when you call him Georgie, Darling, Stud, Freckles, or Dreamboat (you used to call him that teasingly before you guys started dating not knowing he was into you, and still uses it to this day).

His love language is probably quality time, just like Fred he values his memories with you and loves making new ones all the time because those are truly precious over other things.

Anytime he needed a password he always uses your name and last name, your birth date, your favorite color, or the date when he asked you out to be his.

He can sing quite well and would sing a song when you're sad or aren't feeling the best, then he would offer his hand which you always take and he would spin you around before slow dancing with you to his singing as the music.

He would sneak into your room at night when you're asleep and kiss your forehead then leave something on your nightstand beside your bed so you'll always wake up to something new every day, whether it's a fresh bouquet of flowers in a vase, a book he issued for you that he thought you may like, a box of treats like chocolate and sweets or one of his sweaters/hoodies that smells like him.

He's shyer then Fred and still have that occasional blush, stammer and avoid eye contact with you when you change your appearance a little bit or did something that he found really attractive like twirling your hair or biting on your pen while focusing on something.

He tells funny stories about you any chance he gets to all his friends and Fred who finds it adorable that he's so excited to talk about you all the time.

He owns a polaroid camera that was made in the muggle world that he got from his dad as a "don't tell your mother I broke her favorite tea cup" present and takes it every time the both of you are out on a date, and he would ask to take pictures of just the two of you, let it print out and kept it in a bundle inside his sock drawer.

Holidays at the burrow Molly and Arthur love you and make you feel like a part of their family, but you happened to be closer to Ginny because it's like having a little sister. You'd talk about boys, quidditch, fashion, and more.

Instead of focusing on making joke products and trying them on you, he keeps trying to find ways how to make cool things that you can keep and that would impress you because, to be honest, he's just a little boy trying to impress his girl.

Sometimes out of nowhere he just goes "Will you marry me precious?" and get down on his knees or put your hand on his heart because he can't believe you're real and that never fails to make you blush so you just answered "Of course I will, but not now" with a giant smile on your face.

Hornier than Fred, but instead of being rough/playful and degrading during sex he seems to be more of a praiser and more gentle in the best way.

When you lay down on the Gryffindor common room couch he would sit on the opposite side, put your feet on his lap and message it asking about your day and what he can do for you today as well.

When he isn't with you during the holidays (Summer, Winter, and more) he would send you a cute little postcard every single day and a little gift through his family owl Errol.

As soon as he graduated and got the joke shop open he surprises you by saving up his money and getting his own place close to the shop so you can move in with him which you obviously accepted when he asks. The next thing on the list is a ring to marry you.

Taglist:

@igncrantbliss @milivanili99 @thatdummy-girl

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tbmunson · 2 years

Text

From The Outside: 1. George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Notes: If this isn't for you, don't read it. It is 2nd person POV, but also OC.

Summary: You walk into the shop on your birthday and leave with way more than your bargained for.

Warnings: 18 + ONLY! Cheating, Affair, Sex, Drama, Lying, Fighting, Secret Keeping.

WC: 6.6k

Masterlist, Harry Potter Masterlist, George Weasley Masterlist, From The Outside Masterlist.

The Battle of Hogwarts was fought just over a decade ago, not that you were there to remember much. The only thing you could remember about that time, other than what was taught at school, was the bad feeling that hung around for a while and then celebrating your 8th birthday like always.

Ten years later and you were celebrating your birthday the same way. Almost. Your friends replaced your parents on your trip to Diagon Alley. They'd taken you for brunch and the four of you got most of your back to school shopping done. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue over everything when the girls decided to call the shopping trip quits.

"Are you sure?" Lydia asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

You nodded back and smiled. "Absolutely. I only have one more shop to go in. I can handle it myself." You assured her.

"Maybe she'll find the love of her life and finally leave that Gryffindork alone." Rowan teased from down the nearly empty alley, making you roll your eyes. The tease stemmed from the old school feud between your boyfriend's house, Gryffindors, and yours, Slytherin.

"Andy isn't that bad." You defended, though deep down you knew it was over. He'd seen you once since school let out, not to mention he was supposed to be here now.

"I've got to get the training schedule finished for quidditch!" Had been his excuse every time you'd asked to see him.

Mary Alice rolled her eyes and patted your shoulder. "Whatever you say, Elodie. See you later." She squeezed you before skipping off to join the other two girls.

You watched them disappear around the bend of the walk way before heading towards the only shop you hadn't been in: Weasley Wizard Wheezes. You stepped into the empty shop, a total 180 from when you'd passed by earlier.

"Hi, welcome in!" A man's voice called from somewhere you weren't able to see.

"Good evening!" You called back as you looked at a few things on a display table.

"Can I help you find anything?" The voice asked as a presence settled behind you.

You weren't uncomfortable. Quite the opposite actually. You felt safe in the presence of the man whose face you didn't know. "No, thanks. Just shopping around." You replied, not sparing a glance just yet.

"Just shout if you need anything. I'll be around." He said and you nodded, letting him now you'd heard him. His footsteps sounded, signaling he was leaving you to browse in peace.

You'd made your way around the store, somehow managing to dodge the man whom the voice belonged to, and stood in front of the Pygmy Puffs.

"When my brother and I first bred them, we only got pink and violet. A few years later they started popping out in different colors." The voice stated as the presence settled in behind you again.

You stuck a finger into the cage, letting a black one latch on like it was hugging you. "I think they're absolutely adorable. I've always wanted one but my parents would never allow it." You sighed, pulling your finger back from the creature that now looked to be pouting. You could feel the strangers body coming closer to your own until he stopped just behind you.

"Well, I think that one likes you. What if I just gave you one?" He asked, hand settling on the latch of the cage.

You turned to look at him for the first time, taking in first his brown puppy like eyes, then his crooked smile lined perfectly by small folds in his skin, showing just how much he liked to laugh. You could see he was missing an ear, but you could barely pay attention to it as you took in the bright orange hair spilling from the top of his head. "You'd give me one? Wouldn't you get in trouble?" You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at him.

He let out a laugh, showing exactly how the lines creasing his skin got there as he shook his head. "I don't think so, love. It is half my shop, after all." He winked at you.

Your heart skipped as the name rolled off of his tongue so easily, stunning you silent. You could only nod as you fought the blush that tried to claw its way up your face. "Oh." Was the only noise you could mutter.

"Mum and dad can't get mad if it was a gift, now could they?" He asked, finger pointing to the small button pinned to your shirt by Mary Alice earlier that day. It's my birthday!

You looked down and shrugged. "They probably wouldn't be thrilled with another mouth to feed." You replied, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked down at the small black puff that was still looking up at you.

The man watched your lip, wishing he hadn't. "Why don't you work here a few days a week. You'll make enough to take care of him, and have extra left over. Plus, you get a discount on everything." He said before he realized he had. They did need some extra help with it being so close to back to school, the shop would be busier than just he and his brothers could handle.

You looked up at him again and nodded. "I can do that." You smiled, unintentionally making his heart rate increase.

"Great. Come in tomorrow morning. I'll introduce you to Fred. That's the co-owner. Ron our younger brother works here too, so he'll be here as well." He smiled, opening the cage and sticking his hand in for the puff that had been eyeing you for the past five minutes. "And you can take this little guy home tonight." He offered the small animal to you.

You grinned wide, taking it gently and brushing your hand over his. You felt the electric shock but tried to ignore it as you cuddled the creature into your neck. "What are we going to name you?" You asked, before realizing the man that just gave you a birthday gift and a job had yet to give you his name. "And what should I call you, other than boss?" You asked, still smiling.

"Oh, right." He chuckled, offering his hand out for a handshake. He was trying to see if he would feel sparks he'd felt just seconds ago. "George. George Weasley." He smiled as you reached out, setting his skin alight again. He knew now he was in trouble.

"Elodie Whits." You grinned and laughed as the small puff made a home in the pocket of your dark overall dress.

George watched the creature nestle in, comfortable, happy. How he longed to be like that again. He had been once, years ago, with a girl he was now married to. Things had changed over the five years of dating and six years of marriage.

Angelina was a wonderful woman, helping when needed. Going above and beyond. Doing everything she could for herself and George. They'd known each other in school, that's where they met almost twenty years ago. She wanted more than George was willing to give her though. She'd always wanted kids, having been an only child. George was the opposite. Having been one of seven, he wanted a few years of peace.

He didn't blame her for wanting it. He had at one point agreed to having kids and they tried, but nothing came of it for a while, which he now thought had been a blessing in disguise. He wasn't sure if or how long the marriage would last. He was just waiting on her to decide.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." He smiled, reaching down to a small cage under the Pygmy display. It was filled with food, treats, and toys. "Everything you need for him. Feel free to bring him to work with you. Seems like he wouldn't want it any other way." He laughed, resting a hand on your lower back to lead you to the front.

"I don't think I'd be able to leave him." You chuckled, petting his head with one finger. You tried again not to let the blush creep up, but you lost the fight this time, a light pink settling on your skin.

"I've just got some paperwork I need for you to fill out before tomorrow." He said, stopping you at the end of the counter and walking around to the register. He grabbed a small stack of papers and handed them over. "Nothing too bad, just the application and whatnot." He added, sending you a quick wink. He noticed the pinky red that covered your face and smiled.

"Thank you." Your voice was small as you took the papers from him. "Have a good night, George. I'll see you tomorrow." You added, turning to walk away.

"Let me lead you out. Gotta lock the door anyways." He said, quickly rounding the counter and settling his hand on your back again.

"Thank you." You said again, smiling a bit bigger at him.

He pushed the door open, allowing you out of it. "Have a good night, love."

"You too." And with that you walked away from the shop, smiling to yourself, wondering what you'd just gotten yourself into.

***

It had been two weeks since that day. Two weeks since you'd met George. Two weeks since he'd given you a birthday gift. Two weeks since you started working for him. In that time you'd met his brothers and his wife. She didn't seem to like you very much, the little that she saw of you. You had barely spoken to her seeing as she only popped in from time to time so you couldn't be sure why. Maybe she knew George had given you the Pygmy puff you always carried around in your pockets or on your shoulder. Maybe she'd caught your longing stares on him while he was putting up a new display. Maybe she didn't like the way the two of your laughed and joked through the day. Maybe she knew you had a crush in her husband.

You still smiled and greeted her everyday you worked: Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday, just like you did with the rest of them, then avoided her for the time she stayed. Today was no different than any other, aside from the fact that Ron had gotten sick half way through and wasn't able to stay and do inventory like every Saturday night. George offered so casually to teach you, you didn't think anything of it. Once you found out he was married, you'd assumed he had no interest in you and that the events of your birthday were just him being nice.

The store had been closed for close to an hour now. You and George were just about finished with inventory. You'd been up on a stool, counting some of the top shelf items and relaying the numbers to George. You were on the last one now, the snack boxes that were kept on the top shelf to prevent kids from getting into them and eating them.

"I count 27." You stated, moving to stand straight, but losing your footing. You squealed as you felt yourself falling. Only you didn't hit the ground.

George had been standing close enough to catch you, arms wrapping around you, pulling your chest to his. "Careful there." He said, brushing some hair away from your shocked face. His finger ran over your cheek as you smiled up at him.

"Thank you." You blushed, hiding your face in his chest, making him chuckle a bit.

He kissed the crown of your head as he rubbed your back before he realized what he was doing.

You looked up at him, trying to read his intentions. You were usually good at that but tonight you questioned yourself. He was married, you reminded yourself as your lower lip settled between your teeth.

George couldn't stop himself. He reached a hand up, gripping your chin lightly and tugging your lip from your teeth with his thumb. "You've got to stop doing that, love." He mumbled, looking from your lips to your eyes. "It drives me insane."

You blinked at him a couple of times, speechless.

"Maybe insanity is the reason I want to touch you so badly..." He squeezed your hips, making you release an involuntary squeal. "Maybe it's the reason I think you want to touch me, too."

You whined and reached up, resting your hand on the side of his face. "You're not insane, George." You whispered, fingers tracing lightly over the stubble on his jaw.

He chuckled as your faces gravitated closer to each other. "Maybe we both are." He said in a low voice, making you whine as his nose brushed yours. "Tell me to stop." He whispered, eyes closing on their own.

"I don't want you to." You couldn't hide the want and need that laced your voice. You craved him so badly. Your bones ached for him.

The gap between your mouths closed, though it wasn't clear which one of you did it. It didn't matter anymore. The feeling of your lips molding together was so much better than you'd thought it would be. His hands rested on and squeezed your hips while your arms hung around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You felt his tongue slide over your bottom lip and immediately gave him the access he was looking for.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring every inch as he backed you up against the wall. His hands fell from your hips to grope your ass, pushing and squeezing roughly.

You whimpered as your fingers disappeared into his beautiful orange hair, tugging at the roots.

His mouth detached from yours and planted kisses down your jaw and to your hairline where he nipped and sucked, branding you as his.

"George, baby." You begged, hands falling and clawing lightly down his back.

He pulled away and looked down at you. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." He stepped back, leaving you cold, chilled to your core. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes as he tried to snap himself back into reality. Only this was reality.

You pouted a bit and stepped up to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. You were both guilty of the same things. "I shouldn't have let you. But I did. I wanted it. We don't have to talk about it again if you don't want to. I won't tell anyone." You promised, hand slipping down to rub his back.

"We can't do it again." He said, reaching out to fix your hair.

You nodded, agreeing.

The agreement between you two proved difficult in the coming weeks. You longed to touch him again, feel him against your skin. You knew how wrong it was, imagining him pinning you to his chest while his lips kissed down your neck, especially as you worked the register next to his wife. You didn't think it would be an issue since he wouldn't look at you for more than a few seconds at a time, at least that's what you noticed.

He couldn't keep his eyes off of you, as long as you weren't looking at him. He imagined himself holding you again. Sweeter, softer than before. He thought about what it might have been like to have you in his bed at night to hold and kiss. What it would be like to make you laugh again. It was all things that didn't happen anymore in his current relationship. He missed it.

Now that you knew how to count inventory you and George were together most Saturday nights, freeing Ron from the responsibility. You'd count the store front and he would count the storage room, keeping yourselves separated. It was the best way.

Today had been particularly busy, kids running around, mixing items on shelves. You'd spent the first half hour trying to straighten things up before you could even begin counting, so you were behind.

"Storage room is good. How's it going out here?" George asked, emerging from the basement.

You looked over at him, exhaustion in your eyes. "I've barely started. Everything was everywhere, Georgie." You didn't mean to let the name slip, especially with that whining tone, but you couldn't take it back now.

He nodded and smiled at you. The name was the confirmation he'd been looking for. He'd spent the last month wondering if you were mad at him, upset, repulsed. He knew now that you weren't. "That's alright, love." It had been the first time he called you anything other than your name since the kiss.

Your stomach flipped in the best way as you walked up to him. Exhaustion or boldness, you weren't sure which was the reason you decided to say what you said next. "You don't know what you do to me when you call me that, Georgie." You bit your lip instinctively as you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

He grunted slightly, fighting himself. He wanted to reach out, pull you into him. He wanted so badly to kiss you again, but he knew he shouldn't.

"I know it shouldn't do the things it does. It's only a name. A simple word. Yet, it pulls me deeper and deeper into you. I know it's wrong. I have a boyfriend. You're married for Merlin's sake." You let out a bitter and exasperated laugh. You were so close to him now. You could feel the way his breath fanned across your face.

His mind was all over the place all at once. You were taking over his mind, taking over his senses. How pretty you were. How good you smelled. What your lips felt like against his. The sound of your laughter. The way you tasted that night. He was consumed by two things. You and guilt. Guilt that he craved you more than anything on the planet. Guilt that you were the one invading his thoughts at night while he laid next to his wife. He needed you.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you into him, hesitating for only a second before smashing his lips onto yours once more. He groaned into your mouth as you pushed your hands up his chest, wrapping them around the back of his neck to bring him closer. The kiss was a clashing of teeth and tongue, pure need and lust.

You whined at the the way his hands sank under your ass so he could hoist you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you to the basement door. You detached your lips from his to kiss around his neck, careful not to leave any marks on him, although every part of you wanted to.

"If you don't stop me, I won't stop." He mumbled, as he reached the landing of the creaky steps.

You pulled back to look at him, taking in his lust blown eyes. You were sure yours were in the same state. "Does it look like I want you to stop?" You reached out, popping the top button of the patterned dress shirt.

"You're a little minx, you know that?" He growled, hands slipping back up your body.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from his. You were drinking in the way he seemed consumed with you, hoping he was because you were with him. Every thought you had, he was in the background of, looming.

He sat you on the table meant for opening boxes and stood between your legs as you finished opening his shirt. "If we do this, love, no one can know. And we can't do it again." He held your chin in his hand, looking into your eyes with an intensity that made you melt.

In this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be his dirty little secret. "Never again." You nodded, giving him the most innocent eyes he'd ever seen.

He groaned as his shirt fell to the ground. "No marks." He added, hands resting high on your thighs, under your skirt.

"Yes sir." You gasped, fighting the urge to scratch over his freckled skin. "Please touch me." You whispered as your hands fell to his hips, gripping at his belt loops.

He licked at his lips as his hands pushed higher until his fingertips were brushing against the damp lace of your underwear. "Shit. You really want this then?" His finger trailed up and down your covered slit, pressing lightly against the bundle of nerves.

You moaned and nodded. "Yes. Yes please. George, I need you." You begged, hips rolling on their own in search of friction.

"I know, I know darling." He cooed, removing one hand to rest on the back of your head and guide your lips to his. His other hand rested on your hip, pulling you to the edge of the table before bunching your skirt around your hips. "Green. How could I not have guessed." He chuckled, dipping his fingers into the waistband and tugging them off.

"House pride, Mr. Weasley." You smirked, moving your hands to work his pants open.

He smirked, running a finger through your folds. "I can see the ambition and determination." He leant down and kissed your neck as your hand slipped down to rub him through his underwear. "Feel what you do to me, love?" He asked, nipping at the skin hard enough to be felt but soft enough not to leave a trace.

"Fuck, yes." You groaned as he circled your clit with his thumb while his fingers teased your entrance. Your eyes closed and you sighed as he pushed them into you. "Feel so good." You whined, one hand holding the back of his neck while the other slipped into his boxers to really feel him. You moaned out as your hand ran down his full length.

He knew he should feel bad, but he didn't. He couldn't. Not when it felt this good. "I want to see you, love. Can you take that shirt off for me?" He asked, pulling away from you.

You pouted and watched him lift the fingers that had just been inside of you to his mouth before wrapping his lips around them. "I'll do anything you want me to do." You said, mesmerized by the sight. You gripped the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, exposing the matching bra to him.

Foreplay was something none of the guys your age were good at, given they even tried it, which was not very often. They were never like this.

"When is the next time you'll see your boyfriend?" He asked, lining the edge of the cup, flicking his gaze from there to your eyes.

"School. He's too worried about quidditch drills." You answered, slightly confused by why he was asking.

He nodded and reached behind you, unclasping your bra, but holding it. "This okay?" He asked, eyebrow raised as he waited.

"Yes." You answered with a nod.

He let go, letting the article fall down your arms until you allowed it to fall to the floor. "So beautiful." He mumbled, reaching out to push you gently until you were laying down on the table. "Still want me to touch you?" He asked, hands running up and down your torso.

You whimpered and nodded. "Please."

His hands pushed up your body, grabbing onto your breasts and pinching your nipples between his fingers. He smirked before bending down and taking one into his mouth.

You gasped at the feeling, eyes rolling back into your head. "George, fuck." You couldn't understand why these minimal touches had the largest effect on you. You were aching for him.

"Is that what you want?" He asked, looking up at you, warm breath fanning over your saliva coated nipple before he latched onto the soft skin, leaving his claim.

You whined, so turned on by how simple it all seemed to be in this moment, everything else forgotten about. "Yeah. I want you to fuck me." Your eyes were half lidded, looking down to connect to his.

He growled, dropping his head once more. He bit at your collar bone, sucking a dark bruise there as well as his hands worked to push his pants and boxers down before he stood up straight.

You looked down at him, taking in his body before settling your eyes on his cock. He was bigger than you thought he'd be, not that you thought he was small. He was definitely above average. You watched closely as he gripped himself at the base, moaning when he slid his tip from your entrance to your clit then back down.

"You ready, love?" He was already pushing in slowly, watching you crumble under him.

You nodded, unable to form words due to the pleasure flooding your body.

He set a near teasing pace. He wanted to savor this. It was the one and only time, after all. Right?

You reached out, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers with his as his pace increased bit by bit. His free hand moved to rub at your clit, matching the mild pace. You were a mess of moans, whines, and gasps with your eyes mostly closed. "Feels so good." You were breathless as you spoke, free hand grabbing at your chest.

"So wet baby. You ever been touched like this before?" He asked, making you think more than you thought you could.

You shook your head. "They don't know how." You answered, feeling the building pressure in the pit of your stomach. It was a feeling no other man had brought you before.

"Who doesn't, love?" He was bent over you now, hand resting next to your head, still laced with your own.

You squeezed his hand as your brows knitted together. "The ones my age. Don't know how to touch me like you do." You moaned, reaching a hand up to pull him down to you. "Don't fuck me like you do." You pressed your lips to his, feeling the impending orgasm pushing full steam ahead.

"Scream for me, love. Tell them who can make you feel this good, hm?" He urged, picking up his pace as he felt you tightening around him.

"George! Oh George yes!" You yelled out as the coil that had been tightening snapped in two, flooding all of your senses with him

He spilled into you, groaning and giving you everything as he bit down onto your shoulder, making you scream a bit louder at the pleasure caused by pain.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, only the sound of your breathing echoing around the room.

A million thoughts ran through your head, but you couldn't speak any of them.

"You're amazing, love." He brushed your hair back and pressed his lips to yours one more time before standing and finally pulling out of you. He wanted to apologize, not because of what the two of you had done, but because you couldn't do it again.

"You're not so bad yourself." You smiled, stuck in the after sex haze. Once you were dressed you wrapped your arms around him from behind. "I'll see you on Monday." You mumbled before rushing around him. You knew you'd be too weak if you looked at him.

"See you Monday, Elodie." It hurt him to say almost as much as it hurt you to hear.

You nodded and ran up the stairs, not looking back.

The next day was spent in your bed, fingers tracking over the claim he laid on your collar bone, thinking about him. Thinking about what Monday would bring.

You walked into the shop, waving at the two gingers that were setting up the displays. "Morning Ron, Fred." You smiled as you made your way past them.

"Morning! I heard about Saturday night." Fred said, standing up straight.

You froze and turned around, slightly panicked. "Yeah?" You asked, nausea causing your stomach to churn.

"Yeah, I didn't realize how bad it was. George said the store was a mess. Said it took over an hour to straighten up in here, much less count. Next time it's like that I think we'll all stay." He said with a curt nod.

You sighed, relieved that he was only talking about inventory. "Yeah, it was something else." You chuckled, pushing a hand through your hair.

"Glad it wasn't me. They make me do it alone." Ron said, popping his head from behind the display, making you laugh.

"You would have been here until noon on Sunday." You joked, continuing your walk to behind the counter to sit your bag and Alfie, the Pygmy puff's cage, down in your cubby.

The boys laughed at the joke before going back to doing what they had been before.

You looked up in time to see George coming down the stairs.

"Good morning, El." He greeted you, a gentile smile on his face. Maybe this would be less awkward than you initially thought.

"Good morning." You smiled back, resting against the counter as Alfie climbed up your arm to settle onto your shoulder.

"Morning." The sharp voice belonged to a very annoyed looking Angelina, descending just behind George. "It was bad Saturday, huh?" She raised an eyebrow at you expectantly.

You nodded. "Yeah. It was a mess in here. Every time I thought I had everything where it went, something was missing, or it had been hidden where it shouldn't have been." You replied, which wasn't a lie. You'd found things hidden in boxes and bins and under displays. Only you hadn't counted anything.

"Told you. We were here until after midnight trying to sort it out." George stated, stepping onto the landing and gesturing to the store that was in perfect condition.

However, that was a lie. The store closed at 9:00 and you'd walked out teary eyed around 11:00. You were left to assume that he stayed and actually counted everything once you left. You felt bad about leaving, but there was no way you could face him after that. Not that soon.

Angelina scanned you, looking for anything obvious but found nothing.

That's how the mornings went that week, warmth from George and ice cold from Angelina, though you couldn't blame her for having her suspicions, mainly because she was right. You also couldn't bring yourself to feel bad about it either, seeing as George was getting the worst of it. You wondered what it was like for him at home if she was the way she was at work.

Saturday came, much calmer than the last, so again, it was you and George left to do inventory, much to Angelina's dismay. She'd stormed out at about ten til nine, leaving you and George alone to lock up and count.

George wasn't blind. He could see the way his wife's attitude was irking you. "Love, what's wrong?" He asked, coming to stand behind you as you put Alfie in the cage to start your work. He put his hands on your hips and watched you smile as he pulled you into him. "You can tell me." He whispered into your ear, letting his lips lightly brush over them.

You shuttered with chills at the sensation. "I don't like her being rude to you. I don't mean to overstep because it's not my business and she obviously has every right to be cautious, you know, considering, but she is being just nasty to you." You answered as his hands slipped from your hips to around your body, locking you against him.

He chuckled, vibrating your back gently. "Considering I'm here, holding you, thinking about what we did last weekend for probably the hundredth time, I think maybe I deserve it a bit... Tell me, love, have you thought about it?" He swayed you gently from side to side as you nodded.

"All the time, Georgie. Can't get it out of my head." Your eyes grew heavy with lust and want and need as his hands trailed your body, dipping into the waistband of your skirt.

He latched his lips onto your skin behind your ear, creating a mark there, which caused you to whimper. "If we get inventory done quickly, we can do it again. I can't stay away from you like I thought I could. I'm foolish for even thinking I could." He confessed, squeezing you a bit tighter.

And the two of you did. You repeated the process every Saturday up until the last one, just before you left for school. You'd also managed to fall back in the routine of laughing, talking, and joking through the shift. Everything felt so good with each other once again.

It was your last day before you had to get ready to go back to school and George had brought you up to the office to talk to you about working winter break. "I figure you have off the week you get back from school, then if you're okay with it, work Monday through Saturday. We're going to be insanely busy and the less new hires, the better." He shrugged, looking over a few papers so casually, acting as if he wasn't the cause of your three orgasms and shaking legs.

You nodded at him, nearly jelly in the chair. "Yeah, I can do that. I'll get to see more of you." You smiled, making him do so as well.

"I'm going to miss you and I'll write when I can. Just, don't write back, love." His eyes fell at the end, reminding you why exactly you shouldn't write back.

You nodded and stood on weak legs to walk over to his desk. "I know. I won't." You said, settling on top of the desk where he'd just finished fucking you not ten minutes ago. "If you can't write either that's okay too." You reached out and put your hand on his just as a knock came at the door.

Your eyes widened as you scrambled to make your way back into the chair rather than the top of the desk.

George rose quickly, straightening himself as he walked to the door, giving the room one last look before opening the door and sighing. "Oh, hey. Come in." He stepped out of the way to reveal his twin's smiling face.

"Just came to see our best employee off. George talked to you about winter break, yeah?" He asked as he walked into the office.

You smiled at him and nodded. "Yeah, we were waiting on you but it got late. I'll start the Monday after I get back here and work until the Saturday before we go back there." You said, crossing one leg over the other. The move had a cool breeze flow up your skirt, reminding that you had yet to find your underwear. You sat up straighter, on edge almost.

"Yeah, that sounds great." Fred said as George settled back into his seat. Fred looked around the room, eyes catching on something he was sure was not meant for his eyes.

George could see the look on his brothers face and knew immediately what was happening. He followed his line of sight to the black lace that was hanging over the edge of the pot containing the large plant in the corner. Shit.

You could see the panicked look in George's eyes. "Well, I'm gonna head out. I've got to pack and get ready. Got a long trip in a few days." You chuckled awkwardly, standing and straightening your clothes out.

George stood again and cleared his throat. "I'll, uh, I'll walk you out." He came around the side of the desk and opened the door for you.

"See you in a few months, Fred." You waved, following George's direction.

Fred waved back with a quick "See ya."

George closed the door and lead you down the stairs silently, which worried you. He stepped onto the landing and looked back up at the office door. "He saw them." He said simply, making your heart sink.

You paled, eyes going wide. "I- we looked everywhere. He was in there for two minutes. He couldn't have..." you shook your head, gripping the fabric of your skirt to ground yourself.

George let out a dry laugh. "That's Fred for you. I'll talk to him. Don't worry, love." He assured you, placing his hand on your lower back as he walked you to the door. "I'll miss you, really." He rested his hand on the knob as he looked down at you.

You met his gaze and had a better feeling. "I'll miss you too, Georgie. Write me soon." You added, resting a hand on his chest.

He nodded and bent down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. Fred had obviously figured it out, so keeping it from him was the least of his worries. "I will. Have a good night."

You nodded and walked out of the door, leaving George to go face his brother alone.

After a moment he made his way back up the stairs and opened the office door to see Fred leaning against the desk, one arm folded over his chest, the other bent at the elbow with the black lace dangling from his finger.

"Probably should have given these back to her, you know?" He said in a monotone.

George ignored him, moving to sit in the chair once more, starting at his brothers back.

"Really, George. What are you thinking? Obviously I can't tell anymore." Fred stated, turning and dropping the fabric on the desk and settling his hands on the edge as he leaned on it.

George looked up at him and sighed. "I- ever since I told Angelina that I don't think kids would be a good idea right now, she's been cold. Distant. We haven't had a good moment together in almost two years, Fred. I just- I wanted some happiness." George had told his brother all about his relationship with his wife, but never that he was unhappy.

Fred was a bit shocked. He nodded and settled in across from his brother. "And Elodie. Screwing her makes you happy?" He didn't mean it as harsh as it sounded. He truly was trying to understand.

George sighed and leaned back in the seat. "It's more than that. We talk and laugh and get to know each other. She's more than some girl I'm banging. She makes me happy. She makes me feel like I used to."

Fred nodded, knowing that was true. When it was the four of you in the shop he was happy, laughing, playing around like when they first opened the shop. When Angelina showed up, it was as of his mood switch immediately. He would do what needed to be done and that was it. "I know, but that doesn't make it okay. I won't say anything to either of them, and I'm fine with her continuing to work here, but I trust you to make the right choices."

George sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know if I trust myself to." He stated, eyeing the lace that sat in a crumpled pile on the shiny wood of the desk.

Fred stood and nodded. "I believe you can. Try." He said, leaning over to pat his brothers shoulder.

George nodded, knowing he couldn't lie to his brother. He would have to actually try and keep away from you. "I will."

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