iwritefanfictionnottragedies

[iwritefanfictionnottragedies]

You can not tell me that this isn't Bill and Charlie Weasley irl

🙃

[iwritefanfictionnottragedies]

21 Questions (George Weasley x Reader)

First Year: The year in which she was extraordinarily lonely, by no fault of her own. Second Year: The year in which it was imperative that she lay low, for apparent fear of... interacting? Third Year: The year in which, unwittingly, she made a friend. Forth Year: The year in which she became his accomplice in mischief, much to her chagrin. Fifth Year: The year in which he became her ally in conflict, despite her being a cantankerous cow. Sixth Year: The year in which she felt inexplicably... sweaty, to be honest. Seventh Year: The year of questions, some of which were superfluous and some of which were very much consequential. FLUFFY STORY UNDER THE CUT

First Year: The year in which she was extraordinarily lonely, by no fault of her own.

Within 24 hours of her Hogwarts Acceptance letter being delivered her parents had packed their bags and disappeared, as they were muggles who were fearful of what they could not understand. They left her with her belongings, as well as €1,000 and, well, trauma. She was a witch, she was 11 years old, and she was alone. So, alone she went to Diagon Alley to purchase her school supplies. Alone she patiently waited for September 1st. Alone she boarded the Hogwarts Express. Alone, she had decided, was okay.

Months passed by, and even the most observant eye would say that she was thriving. She excelled in her studies, and always wore a smile when speaking with her classmates. She was quiet, but friendly. However, while she was technically no longer alone, a new problem had arisen: she was still lonely. Second Year: The year in which it was imperative that she lay low, for apparent fear of... interacting?

Third Year: The year in which, unwittingly, she made a friend.

Sitting on the floor of the empty Gryffindor common room, she examined her textbooks, which she had laid out in front of the fireplace. In the dim moonlight and the glow of the fireplace, she stared at their cracked spines and ripped covers. Many of them were missing pages in key chapters, particularly her Charms book. "Epoximise" she whispered, her wand pointed at her Potions textbook. A thin coat of adhesive appeared on the book cover, and she laid a page from the Daily Prophet atop it to keep the book from falling apart any further. She smiled at her handiwork before moving on to the Transfiguration textbook. "Epoximise" she whispered again. As the sticky adhesive appeared on the cover of the book, she heard footsteps behind her, which made her jump.

"Easy there, no need to be jumpy." said the lanky ginger boy, "Just a fellow late-night trouble maker here." She smiled at the boy, who she recognized to be one of the Weasley twins. She looked down at the floor, remembering her books. Hurriedly she began to gather them, but the boy sat next to her and said "Don't be embarrassed! I've done that tons of times to my books." She looked at him quizzically and asked "You have? And here I thought I was being creative!" He laughed and said "Oh, it's not creativity. It's poor people ingenuity, I know it when I see it." She let out a laugh, possibly the first laugh to leave her lips in a year. It felt delightful.

"I must apologize," she said, "I know that we've met before, of course, but I can't remember if you are Fred or George." He flipped his hands through the pages of one of the books on the floor and he smiled. "Yes, of course we've met! I'm George," he said, "it's a million times easier to tell us apart when you get to know us really." She nodded, and began to pick up her books to retreat to her dorm. "Here, let me help you!" said George as he reached for her Transfiguration book. "No, wait!" she yelled, and as she attempted to swat his hand away her hand landed atop the book right next to his. "What's wrong?" he asked, looking at her with concern. She rolled her eyes and said "George, we're glued together by my book." He laughed loudly, and she shushed him. "Well then, just undo the charm." he suggested. She gave a sheepish smile and said "Mate, you'll never guess what pages are missing from my Charms textbook..."

They laughed together at the ridiculousness of their situation. "Well," she said, "I'd normally say that we should go see Madame Pomfrey, but obviously she'd know that we were out of the dorms past curfew." George replied, "I guess we'll have to sit here and chat until the morning. It's okay though. I think we'll be best friends by sunrise, if you ask me."

Forth Year: The year in which she became his accomplice in mischief, much to her chagrin.

The courtyard was buzzing with life as many students chose to spend their Saturday enjoying the brisk Autumn air. Sitting on the ground against a tree, she rubbed her temples out of frustration. "I almost made it through an entire year of friendship without getting roped into your... shenanigans. I was so close!" she huffed. "Well," George said, "Close only counts in horseshoes and lemonade." She snorted, "Hand grenades." Fred noticeably perked up at the mention of explosives, but she cut his thought process short. "The saying is horseshoes and hand gren--" she paused, "You know what? Yep. It's lemonade. Now, tell me what you need my assistance with, so that I can go back to... not assisting you." The twins laughed. "We'll make it brief," said Fred, "but I can't promise that you won't be addicting to our 'shenanigans' by the end of the evening. So, here's where we need you..."

By the end of the year she had been given detention on 9 occasions for her participation in their hijinks.

Fifth Year: The year in which he became her ally in conflict, despite her being a cantankerous cow.

"LET GO OF ME," she shouted as she strained against George's grip, "I'M GOING TO BREAK HER FUCKING LEG, AND I'LL BREAK YOURS TOO IF YOU DON'T LET ME GO." George continued to hold her back even as she violently pushed and pulled against him, attempting to break free so that she could reach Alicia Spinnet. Across the common room, Alicia simply smiled as she stood behind Fred. "I don't know what her problem is." Alicia said feigning innocence, "I was only being honest with her, as a friend, and the next thing I know she is attacking me!" She let out a loud, sarcastic laugh, and lunged toward Alicia. George tightened his grip on her and said. "ALRIGHT, you cantankerous cow! Tell me your side of the story!" She shot him an angry glare.

They stepped away to the corner of the room. George gave her a very serious look but hesitantly nodded so that she'd begin talking. "George, she was talking shit." she said. George gave an exasperated sigh and asked, "Enough for you to want to break her legs?" She inhaled deeply, gathering her thoughts. "George," she said, "she was talking about my parents. She was taking the piss about me being abandoned. That's not okay. I'm not okay." Her eyes met his, and he saw the tears forming in her eyes. "Okay," he said, anger burning through him, "let's do this."

George turned towards Alicia, fire in his eyes, and cracked his knuckles. She gasped and said "You wouldn't hit a girl!" George laughed and drew his wand and said, "No, I wouldn't hit a girl. My mum raised me better than that! I'll curse a girl though." Her eyes grew wide as he waved his wand in her direction. "Mimblewimble," he cast the tongue-tying curse on her, "Hopefully this will teach you to keep my best friend's name out of your mouth."

When the dust settled, she nudged George's arm and asked, "Did you really call me a cantankerous cow?" He laughed and said, "I stand by what I said, honestly. But you're my cantankerous cow, so it's fine."

Sixth Year: The year in which she felt inexplicably... sweaty, to be honest.

In the early hours of the morning, she was awakened by Hermione. She grumbled and rolled over, "Please Hermione, just a few more minutes." Hermione laughed and said "Listen, I'm already being generous. You've received a much more pleasant wake up call than Ron and Harry did. If you get up right now, and dress at lightning speed, you'll have time for a cup of coffee before we leave for the Quidditch Cup." She rolled out of bed and traversed the dim hallways and steep stairs of the Burrow. She entered the kitchen to find that George was already working on coffee. She took a look at him, noting that his hair was tousled in various directions from a poor nights' sleep. He was still wearing what he'd slept in, a maroon pair of pajama pants. He had no shirt on, a detail impossible for her to ignore. As much effort as she made, she couldn't take her eyes off of him.

"SHITE!" George yelped, burning his hand on the coffee pot and breaking her trance. "Need any help?" she asked. He looked up and his exhausted eyes met hers, and he smiled. "Of course I do," he said, "can you grab two mugs?" She nodded and crossed the room, avoiding making eye contact with him and his bare chest as she squeezed past him in the narrow path between the sink and the kitchen island. She laughed at herself as she grabbed the coffee mugs. 'Merlin, woman. It's just George, nothing you haven't seen before.'

She crossed the room again, but this time as she attempted to squeeze past him he stopped her in the narrow space. She was caught between the countertop and George, and her heart began to race. His face was close to hers, and he looked her in the eye with a serious look of determination. "So," he said, "How are you feeling about this?" She audibly gulped and broke eye contact to look down at this toned chest again. "I- um, I don't know how I feel about this," she said, "I feel... sweaty, to be honest. Is it hot in here?" George laughed loudly and grabbed the coffee mugs out of her hands, moving away from her to pour coffee. "I wasn't talking about our proximity," he said shaking his head, "I was asking how you were feeling about tonight's quidditch match." The two burst out in laughter, the kind of laughter that makes your belly ache and tears gather in your eyes.

When they settled down, he slid her the cup of coffee. "Have you been staring at my chest?" He asked, a curious and entertained tone in his voice. "Obviously," she said with a nervous chuckle. "It's okay," he said, "to be fair, sometimes I stare at your chest too." He peered down at her cleavage and then winked at her flirtatiously, and she playfully punched him in the arm. However, she felt the blood rush to her face, and it was then that she knew that she was in trouble.

Seventh Year: The year of questions, some of which were superfluous and some of which were very much consequential.

She and George crawled out of the 3rd floor window of the Burrow, laughing she clumsily held onto him for dear life. It was the first day of Summer break before their seventh year, and they were thrilled that Molly had invited her to stay with them until their term began. At George's suggestion, they laid next to each other, precariously perched on the rooftop, to watch the sunset. Their laughter died down as they watched the pink sky turn orange. "How exactly do people watch the sunset?" she asked, "What do we talk about? Do we just sit in silence?" He let out a low chuckle and said, "21 Questions, how about that?" She raised an eyebrow and replied, "I suppose that works. You go first." They both stared up at the sky, and George sifted through his brain for a good question. "Where do you want to be in 10 years?" he asked. Her eyes went wide. "Oh, serious questions." she said, "I suppose I want to be teaching by then. Potions, obviously. Married, might eve have a bun in the proverbial oven. My turn now! What's the luckiest thing that's ever happened to you?" He said "Easy. Meeting you." "That's a copout." she protested. "No it's not. My turn now." he said, "If you could commit one crime without getting caught, what would you do?" Her heart skipped a beat, but she was quick to reply with "I'd steal your heart. My turn. Who do-" "WAIT, do you hear sirens?" he interrupted, "I think they're coming for you." She rolled her eyes. "Shut up," she said, "Who do you look up to the most?" With a seriousness in his voice, George replied "You."

There was a silence that followed, but her thoughts filled that silence with a million questions. Before any of those questions could make the journey from her brain to her mouth, George's hand found hers and held it gently. Her heart began to race. "You're such a git," she said, " You're just trying to make me flustered. It's your turn, as your question." He didn't laugh. "Do you ever think about me?" he asked, "I mean, about us. Together?" She gave his hand a squeeze. "Honestly?" she asked. "Honestly."

"I think about it all the time." she said quietly.

He released her hand, and her heart dropped. Then he rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He body was close to hers, and his eyes were starting intently at her. Her eyes were still on the sky, too nervous to look at him. "It's your turn." His voice was barely above a whisper. "How do you know if you've fallen for someone?" Without hesitation he said, "When you want to share the world with them."

Finally she met his gaze as she rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow, matching his position. With their faces only inches apart, his eyes searched hers looking for a sign that she understood the meaning in his words. Her eyes glanced down from his eyes to his lips, and then back again. "It's your turn, George." He moved closer, his breath tickling her lips as he spoke. "Can I kiss you?" She smirked and whispered back, "I'd be quite confused if you didn't."

Gently, he leaned in and quickly brushed his lips against hers. She rolled onto her back, pulling him on top of her. "Kiss me again" she said. And so, he did. One of his hands found it's way to her waist, and her hands found their way to his hair. They were a tangle of limps and lips and desire, but it was cut short by one final burning question. "My turn," said George, "is cereal a soup?"

The pair burst into laughter, and he rolled himself onto his back and laid next to her. As she laughed, she couldn't help but think to herself that perhaps this was the start of something bigger than either of them could have anticipated. However, even if it wasn't, she knew that this would be a Summer to remember.

[iwritefanfictionnottragedies]

The One (George Weasley x Reader Oneshot)

George is surprised to see an old friend at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, but if he’s being honest, he never expected that he’d see her again. George Weasley x Reader, and some Neville Longbottom x Reader!

Warnings: Angst, post-war, grief, mention of alcohol. Loosely inspired by The 1 by Taylor Swift. This is my first time posting my writing on tumblr, please feel free to give me advice as I have no idea what I’m doing, truly. :) The story begins under the cut!

"Alright, love." Neville said, "I'm to stop by Gringotts before we head home. Why don't you take the boys for ice cream while I'm there?" You looked down at your sons, who's eyes were now wide with excitement. "ICE CREAM! ICE CREAM! ICE CREAM!" they shouted. You shot a sideways glare at Neville and groaned a sarcastic "Thanks for that idea, dear..." He laughed before leaning in and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll try to be quick, I promise!" he said, "Best of luck, dearest." He walked towards Gringotts and you turned to begin your journey to the ice cream shop, your two sons following closely behind you like little ducklings.

Of course, you knew that you'd have to walk past the joke shop on your way to get ice cream, and your stomach was in knots. You laughed at yourself for being nervous about walking past a building. You weren't even going inside. Even then, it was just George. Sure, you hadn't spoken in almost 9 years, but seeing an old friend surely wouldn't be a bad way to end the day.

But, I suppose that was the problem. He was certainly more than an old friend, and if you were being honest your stomach was in knots because it's immensely difficult to fall out of love.Of course, that's not to say that you weren't in love with Neville. He was incredibly kind and loving, and he was a wonderful father to Alex and Ben. You put each other back together after the war. He made you feel whole. You could not wait to marry him. Neville was your last love.

Yet there are many different kinds of love, you see, and some loves never end. So here, stopped in front of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, your heart was beating out of your chest because you knew that your first love was likely right behind that door.

You felt Alex tug on your sleeve, which snapped you out of your little daydream. "Yes, little guy?" you smiled down at him. He pointed towards the red door only feet away, "Mummy, Ben went inside the joke store. Are we still getting ice cream?" Your heart sank. You couldn't run from George any longer.

Entering the shop, your eyes darted around excitedly. Despite being overwhelmed by a million emotions, you still could not resist feeling like a "kid in a candy store". You wanted nothing more than to grab a basket and fill it to the brim with fun gadgets, but Ben was still missing.

You wander the store a bit, and eventually find your son sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. Also sitting on the floor was George, excitedly chatting with Ben about Peruvian Darkness Powder. "Can you show me, Mr. Weasley?" You smile, and approach them from behind. You gently interrupt, "Pardon me Mr. Weasley, I believe you have something of mine." Still facing your son, he says "Do I?" You laugh and say "Yes, one of my children."

George chuckles as he stands up, dusting off his suit. When he turns to face you his eyes grow wide. He says your name in a whisper. "Georgie." You reply with a smile. You want to run into his arms, but you extend your hand instead. He shakes your hand firmly, his touch lingering a bit longer than friendly handshakes do. In his eyes, never leaving yours, you can't be sure if you see joy or sadness. Perhaps, you think, its nostalgia.

"Ben, go take a look around." You say as you hand your son 5 Galleons. He smiles brightly at you and then darts down the aisle, shouting "Thanks mum!" as he goes. "Alex, stay with your brother and don't let him buy something that will damage anything, house nor human." Your younger son nods and follows after his brother. "Where's the fun in that?" George snickers. You playfully nudge him with your elbow, laughing with him. He smiles, yet he watches you intently, as if he's concerned that you'll disappear if he takes his eyes off of you."

I see the shop is doing well." You say, looking around at the walls of jokes and candies. He nods, "I'm quite proud of it, honestly. Mum refers to it as "her grandbaby" seeing as it's the only thing I talk about." You let out a laugh, and he grins at you. A short silence fell between the two of you, so you look over at your sons. They were running from a Time To Go (a shouting alarm clock on wheels) which they'd set loose on the floor of the shop, their contagious giggles filling the air. You smile, your heart feeling warm as you watch your little boys play. However, you feel George's eyes on you."

You're a mum." George said. You nodded simply and smiles flashed across both of your faces. "Alex is five years old," you said, "and Ben is eight." You looked into George's eyes and it was obvious that his mind was processing, though he remained completely still as he gazed at you. "They look like very fun little ones." He noted. He took a few steps towards a bench and motioned towards it, offering you a seat. You sat down, still facing the boys, and he joined you. The conversation was pleasant, but you had a million burning questions that you knew you shouldn't ask. As it turns out, he was facing the same dilemma.

The tension was palpable, and just as you were about to speak George spat out "How is their father?" You smiled and quietly said, "He's really well. We're really well. It's Neville, actually. I'm not quite sure whether or not word got around about us." You looked down, uncomfortably shifting around on the bench. "Yeh, I'd heard rumors about you two." George said, "I didn't believe them though." You looked at him and tilted your head curiously before asking "Why wouldn't you?" George let out a humorless laugh as he ran a hand through his ginger hair. "I just found it hard to believe," he sighed. It was obvious that there was more that he wanted to say."

George, please." You said, your eyebrows knit together in frustration. "Tell my why you found it so hard to believe." He shifted to face you, taking your hand in his. Your heart was pounding, but you locked eyes with him. "Do you remember the last time that we saw one another?" he asked. The memories flooded your mind, but you were unsurprised, as they frequently came to you in waves over the years. This time though, your hand was in his, and a tear rolled down your cheek as you nodded at him. "Why then," he said, "would I find it easy to believe that you would run away with Neville and not speak to me for nine years?"

You swallowed nervously. You couldn't be sure if the nerves were due to having to confront your past, or if they were due to his hand still wrapped around yours, his thumb gently rubbing circles on yours and making you feel like a teenager. Either way, he was waiting on you to speak. You looked down at your feet again. "Everyone copes with their trauma differently, George." you said, "After the Battle of Hogwarts some people cried, some people screamed, some people threw things, some people shut down emotionally completely. After seeing Tonks' body in the Great Hall, I started screaming. I didn't think I'd ever be able to stop. When I finally did stop, I just... collapsed."

You wiped away the tears that had creeped their way down your cheeks. George was no longer looking at you, his gaze was on the ground as well. "Neville saw me hit the floor." You said, "He picked me up, sat against the wall, and let me sleep there with my head in his lap. When I woke up, he asked me if I had anywhere to go. I hardly knew the man, honestly, so I was surprised that he asked. He offered to let me stay with him and his Nan, but I told him that I'd stay at a hotel for a few days. I asked him if he would stay there with me... and we haven't spent a single night apart since. I wanted to send you an owl, but I didn't know what I was supposed to say. Not after leaving things with you the way that I did. Then, only 5 weeks after the battle, I found out that I was pregnant. Neville and I were strangers, then lovers, then parents. That's when I knew that my life would be very clearly divided in two: my life before the war, and my life after the war. I had to try to leave you in the before because I didn't want to complicate the after  that seemed to be falling into place. I'm so sorry, George."

George sighed heavily, which led into a long silence. There was only the sound of your sons playing idly across the shop. Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder next to him, he was so close to you but he'd never felt so far away. You were waiting for him to say something, anything really. Finally, he turned his head, looking into your eyes intently, and said "I'm sorry too. The memories of that night have played over and over again in my mind for the last nine years, and I always wondered how you could have possibly chosen to leave the whole thing open-ended. It was selfish of me not to consider that you had legitimate reasons." You looped your arm through his and leaned your head on his shoulder, which took him by surprise. "It was quite a night, wasn't it Georgie?" you said with a sigh. Silently, the two of you remembered the night before everything changed.

Nine Years Ago-----The sunset had long ago faded into inky blue darkness, and as you and George walked the empty cobblestone streets of a nameless muggle city, you were thankful for a moment of calm before the impending storm. You walked arm in arm, passing a flask of firewhiskey back and forth. George took a sip, and as he handed it back to you he asked, "So, my dearest, what do you plan to do after this is all over?" You smiled and took a sip, thinking before telling him "This, I suppose!" He laughed and asked you, "What do you mean this?" You stopped walking, handing the flask back to him. "I mean bothering you." you smiled, "Going anywhere you go. Having my nose in your business. Making each other better people. Best friend shit." He nodded his head. "Best friend shit." he repeats, smirking at you. You were a sucker for that smirk, just as you had been since you were children. 

He took a final sip of firewhiskey and tucked the flask into his pocket. "Do you believe in magic?" he asked. You laughed loudly and said, "Well love I'd say I do. I would hope you do too. If you don't, I've got some wild news for you about that stick you've been carrying around since you were twelve." He pushed you away playfully, ruffling your hair. "Not that kind of magic, you doorknob." he says, "What I mean to say is, we should go make a wish." He raised his arm and pointed in the direction of the a beautiful fountain just a short walk away. "Race you there, babes." you said, and with a wink you were already running.

George arrived at the fountain a few seconds before you did, so you punched him in the arm. "You only won because your legs are practically longer than my entire body." George smiled brightly, but his smile dropped when his eyes met yours. "Okay, so it's obvious that we believe in magic." he said, "What about soulmates?" You carefully considered your answer. "I don't believe in soulmates," you said, "but I do believe in the one." George looked at you quizzically, your answer not being the one that he expected. "What does that mean?" he asked. You smiled and said, "I believe that every person that you fall in love with is your soulmate. It's meant to happen, and it's significant in it's own way. Then, one day you fall in love with a person that... they're the last person you'll ever love, you know? That's what makes them the one."

George nodded and with a subtly shaky voice he said, "That's fair." He looked down quickly and grabbed your hand, pressing a single knut into your palm. You smiled up at him and said, "So, we just throw it in and make a wish, right? I'm gonna wish fo-" You were cut off by George's urgent "SHHH SHHH SHHH!" You laughed, but he didn't laugh along with you. Instead he said, "Face away from the fountain, close your eyes, make your wish silently, and then toss the knut over your shoulder and into the fountain." You nodded in understanding. "Really," he said, "the wish has to stay secret, or else it won't come true." You laughed at his seriousness, "I promise, I won't tell you what I'm wishing for."

You leaned the back of your knees against the fountain, and closed your eyes tightly. You thought hard about your wish, repeating the words over and over again in your head. You tossed the coin over your shoulder. When you opened your eyes, George was standing in front of you. As he locked eyes with you, it was clear that he had more to talk about than tossing knuts in fountains. He leaned in close to you, pushing your hair back as he whispered in your ear, "I don't think this is 'best friend shit'. I don't think it has been for a long time, love." His lips tickled your ear and you felt a shiver go down your spine. He was right, of course. You'd been in love with him for longer than you could remember. You did not, however, have any idea that felt the same way about you.

Perhaps it was the firewhiskey, or perhaps it was the feeling of his breath on your skin, but you felt bold. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his body closer to yours. He wrapped his arms around your waist and his eyes locked with yours. This moment was the culmination of 12 years of friendship, misadventures, pranks, fights, stolen glances, and hidden desires; your skin tingled everywhere that it touched his. He leaned in, and his lips gently brushed yours. It wasn't enough for you, as you pulled him even closer and deepened the kiss. He pulled away, and you both paused for a moment, staring at one another at very close range. Your hearts were beating so loud that any passerby would've sworn they heard distant drums. "I'll see you in a few days, love." he whispered. With a loud crack, he apparated away.

The next evening began the Battle of Hogwarts, and he would not see you for nine long years.

Present Day ------- Your head was still resting on his shoulder, both of your silently recalling your last moment together before the world fell apart. "We were something, don't you think so?" you asked. George laughed. "Something indeed." he said, "I'm truly embarrassed that it look me that long to kiss you." You blushed at the comment and replied sarcastically, "You're embarrassed?? I was so embarrassed that I avoided you for nine years." He smirked again, that smirk that made you feel like your heart was going to fall out of your feet.

The door to the shop opened, snapping you out of your nostalgic little trance. You heard Alex shout, "Dad! Dad, can I please buy this one?" You saw Neville walk in, and the joy on his face as he approached your sons made you melt. "One second little man," he said as he walked past the boys, "Hey love, Nan just called me and says that dinner is ready earlier than expected. She also wants to talk to us about flowers for the wedding, although I tried to remind her that plants are kind of my thing." He laughed as you stood up to greet him with a kiss. When you separated, he noticed who you were sitting with. His eyes widened and he said, "George! I'm so happy to see you. I would love to catch up with you sometime. I'm a little jealous that the missus beat me to it!"  George smiled weakly and said, "That would be lovely, mate."

"Well my sweet," you said, "We shouldn't keep Nan waiting. Go ahead and take the kids and I'll meet you there, I'm going to say goodbye to Mr. Weasley, here." Neville replied, "Of course! Everyone say goodbye to Mr. Weasley!" Ben and Alex followed him out of the store as they waved and shouted "Goodbye!" to George.

Once they left, the shop was silent. George broke the silence and said to you, "I think that I figured it out." You raised an eyebrow. He nodded and said, "We were soulmates." You nodded in agreement. "Have a good evening George." you said, "I'm glad we could catch up." He smirked that god awful smirk and said, "I'm glad we could too." Hesitantly, you approached him for a hug goodbye. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around you tightly, whispering "Farewell." before releasing you.

You made your way to the door, and as you put your hand on the doorknob you heard George across the room say, "Hey! What did you wish for?" You turned to look at him and he repeated, "What did you wish for? That night, at the fountain." You smiled at him and replied, "You're right, of course, that we were soulmates. But that night at the fountain, I wished that you would be the one."

With that, she turned and walked out of the door to go and be with the one, her last love, her forever. George, once again, watched the one walk away.