#‘I announce to you the death of Fred’

[supjello]

crying I can’t believe quebec’s groundhog fucking died today and they let people dance and cheer for 40 full minutes before telling them in the funniest way possible

[unofficial-writing]

She Calls me Freddie (Pt. 1)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst, topics of pain and injuries (mostly burns)

Summary: The twins managed to buy another ticket to the world cup for you but after the Death eater attack, your trip was cut short

Word Count: 5k

Author’s Note: This series was originally from years ago and i’m so so excited to finally write and put it out. it’s so special to me and I hope you enjoy it! Welcome to part one of many <3

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You were woken up that morning by Ginny shaking you. “Y/n.” She repeated your name a few times before she got a response. You groaned and rolled over onto your other side.

“We let you sleep as long as we could,” Hermione told you. You opened your eyes to see her sitting in front of Ginny’s mirror, doing her hair for the day. “But you won’t have any time to get ready if you don’t get up now.”

“And you will be left behind.” Ginny added with a laugh, taking her pillow and throwing it at you.

“Fine,” You said groggily, throwing the pillow back at her which unfortunately she caught. You sat up and stood quickly to avoid being tempted into lying back down again. If there was one thing you weren’t, it was a morning person. And that particular morning was the morning of the Quidditch world cup, which meant a long walk before the sun was even up.

Satisfied, Ginny returned to her mirror, standing behind Hermione to use the space above her. You walked over to your trunk, digging through it to find an outfit. Unlike the other two, you hadn’t had one planned the night before. You ended up pulling out a sweater and a pair of jeans.

“Are the boys up yet?” You asked as you got dressed, sleep still masking your voice even though you were starting to wake up. Ginny shook her head.

“We haven’t checked yet but I doubt it.” She replied, not bothering to pull her attention away from what she was doing. “I don’t think they’ll get up until they’re forced.” It didn’t take long for the three of you to be ready and leave your room. You split up to go wake the others, Ginny and Hermione heading to Ron’s room and you to the twins’.

You climbed a couple flights of stairs and strode down the hall to Fred and George’s room, giving a swift knock to the door. “Boys!” You called, waiting for a response. After a second knock and nothing, you sighed and opened the door. Both the twins were sound asleep, Fred covered with at least three blankets and George snoring.

“Fred, George, do you realize what time it is?” You asked and with a quick swish of your wand, the lamps in the room were lit. The sun was only just starting to rise, therefore it was still dark in the house.

George responded by covering his eyes, even though the lamps weren’t all that bright. “God, y/n.” he complained. Fred on the other hand was too buried in his blankets to notice.

You sighed and walked over to his bed, removing the first layer of blanket. “Fred, get up.” You told him, hearing only him mumble something inaudible as a response.

“Hm?” You responded. The boy grabbed onto your arms in an attempt to pull you down with him. He failed however, giving up since he was still half asleep. You were able to plant your feet and get out of his grasp. “Poor choice of timing to try and get me in your bed.” You huffed, pulling off the last blanket which got him up quickly. “If I have to be up right now, so do you.”

“Good morning to you too.” Fred yawned, resting his head in his hands.

Once they were both sitting up and looked like they weren’t about to fall back to sleep, you walked out their door, turning back around before closing it. “After breakfast, we’re leaving. And nobody is safe from being left behind.” You announced to them what Ginny had said with a hint of teasing in your voice, hoping it would be enough incentive to keep them awake.

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Downstairs you greeted Molly, who was still working on breakfast. Since you were the first one down, you helped her finish. “Oh thank you, dear!” She said, giving you a warm smile.

Ginny and Hermione were next to come down, followed by Arthur, Harry, and Ron. It was only after you were all seated that the twins came down too. George was first and looked like he was still asleep. “Glad you decided to join us after all.” You said as he sat down across from you.

“Don’t you start, y/n” he groaned, leaning his head back in his chair.

When Fred came down he was wide awake, his long legs taking him out of the stairs and into the kitchen. He ruffled your hair and sat down beside you, close enough that you could smell the faintest scent of gunpowder off of him.

“So last night we were working on these fireworks.” He started to explain, confirming the smell. “We’ll have to show you.”

“Ohhh, is that why you wouldn’t get up?” You inquired with a smile. He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Oh please, like Hermione and Ginny didn’t have a hard time waking you.” He returned. As you talked, you pointed briefly to his food, reminding him to start eating it before he got too distracted by talking. “Once you’re asleep— thanks— nothing can get you up without someone ending up injured.”

“No, that’s only when you wake me up.” You corrected. “And George.” The both of you glanced in his direction, only to see him sound asleep in his chair. Ron beside him slapped his arm, waking him up with a jolt. He sighed and sat back up, returning to his breakfast.

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You left most of your belongings at home, bringing only what you needed for the game that night. The world cup was one of, if not the most important quidditch event in the world. You watch it remotely every year, but this year the twins surprised you with a ticket.

To get there you all would travel by portkey, but it was a hike to get to it. Now on that hike, you found yourself following Arthur Weasley on a wide trail through the woods. He was in an extremely good mood. Everyone was today. Even those who weren’t a fan of quidditch were excited for the event today.

“We’ll be meeting Amos Diggory.” Arthur announced. “And his son, Cedric, which you boys have met.” He gestured to Fred and George. You had met him once a few years ago as well, but you were in a different house and you didn’t get the chance to interact much.

The group reached a large tree where the two waited. “Arthur!” Amos greeted him, he carried a large pack and hiking stick. “It’s about time, son!” Cedric walked up beside him, sporting a smile. He was rather handsome, with friendly eyes and brown curls atop his head. You noticed that he glanced at you first.

“Sorry Amos! Some of us had a bit of a sleepy start.” He replied, turning to look back at his son’s. On cue, Ron let out a yawn.

“You’ve met my boys,” Arthur started and then introduced the rest of you.” This is my daughter Ginny and here is Harry, Hermione and y/n. This is Amos Diggory, everyone. He works with me at the ministry.” The man lifted his head in a friendly way. Arthur then turned to Cedric.

“And this strapping young man must be Credric, am I right?” He asked, shaking the boys hand.

“Yes, sir.” Was his response, that smile glued to his face. After introductions were finished, the group proceeded again down the trail. But Cedric stayed back to greet you.

“Y/n.” Cedric spoke in a charming tone, giving a polite kiss to the back of your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

“You as well, Cedric.” You responded with a chuckle, wearing kind expression on your face. He mimicked it and walked back up to the front of the group. Hermione beside you nudged you with her elbow and gave you a smirk. Behind you, Fred and George exchanged a look, subtle enough to go unnoticed by you. But you hear one of them huff.

“I think he fancies you,” Ginny whispered in a playful voice, leaning in close to be unheard by the rest.

“Oh no, Gin. Y/n only has eyes for your brother.” Hermione added quickly, immediately receiving a glare from you. Laughter erupted from the two girls.

“Shush, both of you!” You told her, glancing back to see if anyone heard. The twins looked occupied with whatever they were talking about. “And I don’t like Fred any more than usual.” Which would normally be true. But there was a different dynamic between you recently. Nothing about your friendship had changed but you had certainly grown closer recently. But the topic wasn’t something you wanted to dive into at that moment, on your hike to the portkey.

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After around an hour more of walking, you came out into a huge field of yellowish-green grass. You had felt the uphill climb for a while now and that was confirmed upon seeing a cliff that dropped downward a little ways off. Beyond it lay the sea, its blue surface darker with the overcast weather that morning. As you worked your way closer, you could taste the air develop a hint of salt and feel the wind pick up.

“It’s just up here!” Arthur called, pointing up the hill where an old leather boot sat. It stood up among the grass as if it was planted there, which it likely had been. As your neared it you were instructed to spread out so that everyone had a spot around it.

“Why are we all gathered around that manky old boot?” Harry asked. You imagined he’d never seen a portkey before before, given that he was raised outside the wizarding community.

“That’s not just any manky old boot, mate.” Fred started, settling into a spot next to you.

“It’s a portkey.” George finished, readjusting the bag he carried over his shoulder. Harry followed to find a spot around the boot.

“Time to go!” Amos announced and began counting. “Three..” you shared a look with Fred, placing your hand on the boot with everyone else. You knew what a portkey was, but you’d never actually traveled by one before “Two..”

“Harry!” Arthur called. The boy didn’t have a hold on the boot. He quickly grabbed it before Amos finished counting.

“One!” As he spoke the portkey lifted off the ground, taking us with it. It began to spin, fast enough that you closed your eyes to avoid dizziness. The spinning lasted somewhere around thirty seconds and once it stopped, you were dropped onto the ground. You groaned at the impact, opening your eyes to see the portkey had gone but the rest of the group was down around you. Arthur, Amos, and Cedric, however, had landed gracefully and now walked past you. Arthur beckoned you to follow.

“Come on, this way!” He called. You sat up, rubbing the back of your head. It had a dull ache, but it faded quickly.

“Plan on sleeping here?” Fred asked, making his way to you and offering his hand.

“Oh shove off, Freddie.” you replied, taking it. He pulled you to your feet easily and walked with you to the rest of the group. You climbed up a slope and when you reached the top, the game grounds came into view.

“Bloody hell.” Ron got out, taken by the sight. There were rows and rows of tents in the outer edge, all with different festive decorations. As you moved inward there were tents selling everything from flags to fireworks, which there were no shortage of.

As you walked through the tents, a few were set off right next to you. They stretch up and burst into colorful sparks, raining back down and forming different shapes and figures.

“Those are brilliant!” George exclaimed, lifting his head to watch as we walked. Smiled and laughter filled the group as you made your way through the maze of festivities. That’s when you parted from the Diggorys.

“See you later, Cedric,” George called out to him as Arthur led the rest in the opposite direction, eventually bringing you to a small tent.

“Don’t worry, it’s much bigger on the inside.” You elbowed Harry playfully after seeing his puzzled expression. You ducked into the tent, which opened into a huge space with multiple different rooms off the main.

“Ok, Girls on the left and boys on the right!” Arthur called out. On your side, there were three beds where each of you dropped your bags. You took out a small paint bag out and brought it into the main room.

“I have face paints for us,” You started, pulling the colors out and setting them on the table. “But I imagine we’ll want some other stuff too. Like hats and flags.”

“We can go get some then,” Fred suggested, stepping down into the room. “They have all the tents just a few down from us.”

“Yeah, let’s go now before it gets too busy.” You responded, abandoning the table and standing to head for the tent’s exit. George came into the room, crossing his arms.

“Be back in time to paint my face, y/n!” George yelled as you left the tent, followed quickly by Fred. You two navigated the area, starting to make your way to the shops. There was a tent for everything you could think of.

“Fred, let’s get a firework!” You exclaimed, taking his arm and bringing him to a vendor. Little sparks fluttered around his tent in all different colors and shapes. “Which is a good one?”

Fred looked about the explosives, eventually landing on a large circular one, with a long stick out the bottom. “This one.” He handed the man a galleon, taking the firework in one hand and your hand in the other.

“Careful where you light that thing!” The vendor called as you were led through the crowd and into a small clearing.

“This looks like barely enough room.” You told him, helping him set the rocket into the ground.

“As long as it’s pointed up,” He started, positioning it correctly. He held a hand out for your wand, which you offered to him. “It won’t bother anyone down here.”

He flicked your wand to summon a spark, which started to move up the little wick toward the firework. As soon as it was lit, Fred stood and pulled you back with him. It went off with a whistle, reaching a little ways above the tents before bursting into a huge explosion. Sparks danced above you before raining back down and eventually fading into nothing. Fred cheered and gave you a high five.

“Now that’s a firework.” He said with both hands still on your shoulders, flashing you a smile. It warmed your chest and gave you an almost giddy feeling.

Fred slipping your wand back into your pocket for you and then you were off again. You went down the aisle of tents, stopping here and there to pick up things like flags, hats, and scarves. You even stopped briefly at a jewelry tent after it had caught your eye.

“Oh, I love this one.” You said pointing to a woven bracelet containing small stone beads.

“Really? You’ve never been much of a jewelry person.” He responded, which was correct. You didn’t really have anything against jewelry, you just never wore anything except for earrings and the occasional bracelet.

“Bracelets are an exception.” You explained. “Maybe I can come back and get it after the game.” You moved on from the stand, continuing down the aisle. You now approached the stadium.

“We probably have everything we need.” You started. “Do you—” You turned around to find that Fred had fallen behind and was now walking to catch up. Once he reached you, you asked again.

“Do you want to go back to the tent?” You asked. He nodded in response.

“Yeah, you still need to paint my face.” The boy reminded you, pointing to his cheek. You chuckled and led him back in the other direction.

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Once you were back at the tent, you broke out the paints. Ginny offered to help so you showed her the basics of it. She ended up doing Ron and Hermione as well as herself. You started with Harry

“Ok, which team?” You asked, prepping one of your brushes.

“I’ll go with Bulgaria.” He requested. “Just one flag though.” You painted the red and black onto his cheeks which he thanked you for. After that you did George, who wanted the same but with the Irish colors and a flag on both cheeks. Once he was done, Fred sat down in front of you with his legs crossed.

“Ok, I’m thinking a huge clover. Covering my entire face.” He gestured to his face, picking up the brush and handing it to you. You laughed, putting a hand onto the side of his face to hold him straight and painting with the other.

“I hope you’re not kidding when you say your entire face.” You said, focusing on what you were doing, which was difficult because the boy kept making faces at you. You had made his entire face white and the clover quite literally covered nearly every inch of it.

“I’m not.” Fred responded. He had given up on making faces and now just gazed at your eyes, which you would argue was even more distracting. Once you were finished, you handed him a small mirror.

“Exactly what I was imagining!” He said, taking your brush from you. “Now it’s your turn.”

“I can probably do it myself, Fred.” You replied, raising an eyebrow. If you knew Fred Weasley, you knew it was safer not to hand him face paint. He gave you a look.

“What? Worried I’ll put a giant clover on your face?” He asked sarcastically. You shook your head, absolutely horrible at saying no to him.

“Fine, just do a flag for me.” You instructed, handing him your paints, but you interrupted him before he could start. “But If you mess up my face, Fredrick Weasley, I’ll never let you touch it again.”

“I won’t! God, woman.” Fred laughed as he spoke. He put a hand under your chin, holding your jaw to keep your head still while he painted. To get back at him, you made direct eye contact with him, chuckling as he struggled to keep his eyes from drifting to yours.

After he finished one cheek he moved onto the next, but the brush strokes were definitely not making a flag. “Freddie?”

“Hm?”

“What are you putting on my face?”

“Just trust me, love.” He assured, glancing down to your eyes for a moment before continuing. You sighed and Fred tilted your chin gently to the side so he could see it better. Once he was done he leaned back to examine his work, taking a little too long before he said anything.

George across the room looked at Ron and started fake gagging, both of them laughing shamelessly. Fred rolled his eyes and handed you your little mirror. He had put the Irish flag on one side and three small clovers on the other. When you looked back up at him he had a smile, knowing you liked it.

“I’m impressed.” You said. “You’re gonna take my job if I’m not careful.”

“Told you, I’m a natural.” He replied, leaning back on the couch. You chuckled, setting the mirror back down on the table.

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Once the sun went down, you and the rest of the group made your way to the stadium. Your seats were at the top level so it required climbing several flights of stairs that sprouted up just beyond the entrance. About one flight up you were stopped by the Malfoys, the father and son pair. You hadn’t really spoken to either of them personally but they had always seemed like prats from the interactions you heard about.

“Blimey dad, how high up are we?” Ron asked, leaning over the railing to try and see down into the stadium.

“Well let’s put it this way.” Lucius started, leaning into his cane. “If it rains, you’ll be the first to know.” Most of us ignored them and continued walking but Harry and Hermione stopped when Draco chimed in.

“Father and I are in the minister’s box.” He added, giving Harry a smug look. “By personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself.”

“Don’t boast, Draco.” His father scolded, jabbing him with his cane. “There’s no need with these people.” Harry grabbed Hermione’s arm, turning her away from the Malfoys. Before he lifted his other hand from the rail, Lucius used the snake end of his can to trap it. Harry jumped at the sudden pain.

“Do enjoy yourself, won’t you? Lucius said. “While you can.” He released his hand and you reached down to put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, turning him away from them again. This time they continued going their own way and you were able to make it up to your seats.

This was the first time you could get a good look into the stadium. Below you were an ungodly number of levels, stretching down to the bottom where the field resided. On either side of the green, three posts grew upward, the hoops at the top almost as high up as you were.

Cheers and whoops came from every direction, filling your ears with the sound. “When does the game start?” You called out over the applause. Fred leaned down to answer but was interrupted by the formation of brooms speeding by above, seeming to just barely miss the top of your heads. White and green clouds trailed behind the players as the flew toward the center of the stadium, creating a firework display there.

Then the Bulgarian team entered, crashing directly through their show and throwing off the display. They flew in a triangle formation, sporting their red and black colors. At the front, the team’s seeker led the group, showing off as he passed through the audience.

“Who’s that?” Ginny asked.

“That sis, is the greatest seeker in the world!” George answered. His voice nearly drowned out by the crowd. Somehow the applause managed to grow lauded than it was before the seeker, Viktor Krum, had made his entrance.

The game lasted for a long time, only coming to an end when Krum caught the snitch. His catch handed the win over to the Irish, who ended up with around twenty more points in total.

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Back in the tent you all celebrated, giddy on the excitement of earlier in the day. You found yourself wrapped in the Irish flag that Fred had picked out, watching them goof around. A loud explosion went off outside, sounding like one of the larger fireworks you had seen.

“There’s no one like Krum.” Ron started, standing up on the table. “He’s like a bird the way he rides the wind.” Fred threw another flag at him, which he caught and balled up in front of him.

“He’s more than an athlete, he’s an artist.” Ron continued, clearly infatuated with the quidditch player.

“I think you’re in love, Ron.” You said, earning a look from him.

“Viktor, I love you!” George sang, taking his brother’s arm.

“Viktor, I do!” Fred added, taking his other one.

“When we’re apart my heart beats only for you!” Everyone finished, being cut off by another big firework going off, followed by shouting from a ways away.

“Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on.” Fred stated, smoothing his hair out of his face. Arthur, who had been gone for a few minutes, entered the tent again, grabbing his son’s shoulder.

“It’s not the Irish.” He said in a tone that made your smile drop. He crossed the tent to reach Ginny. “We’ve got to get out of here, now.”

The scene outside was completely different from what you thought you had heard. The fireworks really had been big explosions. Tents were on fire and people fled screaming.

“Get back to the portkey everyone, and stick together!” Arthur commanded, turning to the twins. “Ginny is your responsibility, do not lose her!” He handed her off, George taking her arm and keeping ahold of her.

The chaos had delayed your reaction time while you tried to process the sudden terror. It took another explosion and more screams to break you out of it. George began running with Ginny in tow and you watched them weave through the mess.

“Y/n!” Fred yelled, taking your hand and gripping it tightly. He dragged you through the tents, following quickly behind George. He hadn’t accounted for the height difference and that you would be slightly slower than him because he continued to lead you through until you started to trip.

“Fred,” you managed to get out, the smell of smoke and burning fabric climbing into your throat. He slowed down a little, probably just considering picking you up at that point. As you passed a larger tent, you suddenly tripped over a pile of debris and Fred quickly turned to grab you. Another explosion hit, sending the tent up in flames and you two to the side. Burns tore at your leg.

The flag, which you didn’t even realize you still carried, caught fire and pain seared through your shoulder as you tried to rip the slip of fabric off. Fred hauled you to your feet, yanking the flag away and tossing it to the side.

“Are you ok?” He yelled above the chaos, his eye darting to your arm and then your leg. You winced but nodded and continued moving. Finally both of you came out onto the hill again. It was dark, but you made it to the bottom where the portkey was.

You had to stop there, gritting your teeth from the untreated burns. Fred slipped an arm around your waist to help support you. After looking around, you saw that only George, Ginny, and Arthur had made it back. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were nowhere in sight.

“Where are the others?” You asked. Arthur looked around the incomplete group.

“Stay here!” He ordered, heading back up the hill. “Whatever you do, do not go back in there!” He disappeared back into the chaos.

“Are you ok?” Fred asked his siblings, who seemed shaken but unharmed.

“A couple scratches but nothing severe.” George replied. You patted Fred’s arm so he’d let you sink to the ground. He took your hand to help you get there, unintentionally letting out a wince. You let go to see a nasty burn where he had grabbed the flag.

“Fred, your hand.” You pointed out, but he shook his head and pulled it away.

“Don’t worry about me.” He replied quickly. Then Hermione and Ron came running down the slope. But Harry wasn’t with them. Hermione landed beside you, setting down her smaller bag which she had managed to save.

“Y/n, what happened?” She asked. the burns were painful but the adrenaline hadn’t worn off so they weren’t yet unbearable.

“Where’s Harry?” You asked her, ignoring her question. She looked around, finding that Harry wasn’t there. She then frantically dug through her bag, pulling out a roll of bandages and some sort of cream. They were muggle supplies, which you had some knowledge on since one of your parents was a muggle.

“Ginny!” Hermione called to the girl, who was looking much younger now. “Wrap her burns, like I showed you!” She turned back around and headed up the hill with Ron, despite George’s protests.

“I’ll show you, Gin.” You said, gritting your teeth. She came over, kneeling down beside you. “Rip the pant leg.” Ginny was able to tear it easily since it was mostly singed anyway. Fred and George grimaced at the burns it revealed.

“Put the cream on and then wrap it.” You instructed, trying to speak calmly through the quickly growing pain. You held your burned arm in your uninjured, the whole side of your body now stinging. She did as you said, the cream bringing some relief to your leg.

Under your instruction, she took of your jacket, decently wrapped your shoulder and arm, and then got your jacket back on to shield the injuries.

“Thank you, Ginny. That was perfect.” You assured her, the stinging was now muted but still very much so present. You heard her sigh in relief at your words.

With your burns covered for now, you took Fred’s hand and wrapped it carefully, apologizing with every sound he made. After a while the screams and explosions had died out, leaving the black, smoky remains of the festival grounds. It wasn’t until about an hour after Arthur had left that he retuned, Hermione, Ron, and Harry now following behind him.

“Is everyone ok?” He asked, making his way through the group. Fred and George helped you onto your feet.

“Y/n got the worst of it,” George explained, leaving you with Fred. “The rest of us are ok.”

“Ginny bandaged everything.” You said, heaving a sigh. “I’ll be alright.”

“Well done, Ginny.” Arthur praised, putting a hand on her shoulder. After a final headcount, you all grabbed ahold of the portkey and took it back home. The walk back was brutal, but both Fred and George helped you and once you were there you received better medical attention. By the next morning you were nearly back to normal.

“How are you feeling?” Fred asked as you walked into their bedroom, noting that you were no longer limping. You expected George to be sitting there too but he wasn’t in the room.

“Better now,” you told him, sitting down on his bed with your back against the wall. “Your mother fixed me right up. But I’ll probably have those scars for a while.”

He chuckled, coming to sit down beside you. Fred pulled you into a big hug, sighing. “Sorry you tripped, I was just trying to get you out of there.” He apologized, releasing you from his embrace. You sat back against the wall again, wanting him to hold you for longer.

“I know, Freddie. Don’t worry about it.” You assured, giving him a soft smile. He returned it. His green eyes gave you that same look they did while you were painting his face.

You sighed. School hadn’t even started yet and you could tell this wasn’t going to be a quiet year. But not even those burns could make you trade it for anything else.

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Click here for part 2!

[ellecdc]

Grounded (for til college)

CBBH-verse: Harry and Ron are read their Miranda Rights after the Flying Car Catastrophe of Second Year as requested by fans of the CBBH series 😊

Over the past eleven years, there have been many family meetings amongst the Potter, Black, Lupin, Weasley, Longbottom and Lovegood tribe.

A family meeting was called when a five-year-old Draco and Harry began fighting over who got to perform the big brother duties for Jasmine Potter, and then again a year later for Aurora Black.

A family meeting was called when every glass, vase, pot, and basket in the manor were turned over to 'stop nargles from hiding in them' (it was Luna).

A family meeting was called when someone moved all of the pots and pans in the house onto the roof (it was Harry). 

A family meeting was called when someone started drawing moustaches on all of the pictures and portraits on the walls (it was James). 

A family meeting was called when Fred and George pranked Neville by hiding his toad, Trevor. Each member of the household spent three hours looking for him – Lily later found him hidden in her underwear drawer. 

Another family meeting was called for going through people’s underwear drawers.

Family meetings were called quite frequently, what with the number of members these families had within them. They were called for fights, for updates, for announcements and for check ins. 

But there are two things that have never happened since these families began calling family meetings:

Never, not once, has James Potter ever called a family meeting. And never once has a family meeting been called whilst the children were away at Hogwarts.

Until today.

“Is it really necessary I’m here?” Regulus drawled as he leaned against the wall behind you in the headmaster’s office as he studied his nails. “I mean, I don’t even have a spawn to punish.”

“Sshh,” Remus spat loudly from his spot beside you standing at attention like a soldier. “You’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“Dad’s mad guys...” Sirius mumbled from your other side. 

“Is it bad I kinda feel sorry for Harry and Ron?” you asked your husband quietly.

He shook his head in response. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so mad.”

“Please, 10 galleons he doesn’t even give them a warning.” Regulus added from his place.

Sirius scoffed. “Oh, you’re on.” 

The murmurings were interrupted when the two twelve-year-olds were ushered into the office with Dumbledore and McGonagall trailing behind them. 

Before anyone could make sense of what was happening, Molly Weasley stood from her seat beside her husband and began screeching.

“RONALD WEASLEY. WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU THINKING?”

Ron’s face brightened to the likes of his hair as he tried to hide behind Harry. James stood beside Molly with his arms crossed. 

“Okay, I know now’s not the time.” You whispered to your husband, “But James’ arms look really good when he stands like that.” which was met with an exaggerated nod of his head.

“When he’s less mad, we’ll tell him.” 

“It was the platform! It was charmed or something and wouldn’t let us on and we missed the train!” Harry tried to argue.

“So, you opted to steal the Weasley’s car and drive it across the country!?” James asked incredulously. 

Harry instantly deflated.

“It was reckless, it was stupid, it was dangerous.” He continued as he started to pace the room, eyes never leaving the forms of the two second years. You gulped loudly on their behalf. 

“You could have been seen. You could have been hurt. You could have died.” He carried on. 

“Your father is now going to be facing an inquiry at work and it is all your fault!” Molly added.

Remus’ eyes furrowed as he leaned into your side. “Well, I mean his father did illegally charm a muggle vehicle...” But you elbowed him hard when the death stares of Molly and James turned towards you. 

“You have absolutely no idea the kind of trouble you could have caused. That you have caused.” Molly continued as she returned her attention to the boys.

“You two have always been mischievous, which I feel I have taken in stride because you are, after all, the product's of Marauders. But this? This exceeds mischievous. This borders insanity.” James said severely. You and Remus exchanged a wide-eyed gaze.

“Mr. Potter and I have discussed your punishments, young men.” Molly stated as she considered the two boys in front of her. But it was James who read them their sentence.

“You will spend the entire summer working at Uncle Moony’s bookstore.” 

This was met with a “what!?” cried out from Ron, Harry, and Remus.

“Why do I have to be the bad guy?!” Remus cried in distress.

“I don’t think you are, Moons.” Sirius said with a chuckle. He turned to regard his friend when he saw a look of understanding cross your features.

“I think it’s Regulus.” You clarified for the werewolf with a smirk.

Sure enough, the three of you turned to see a disturbingly wicked grin spreading across Regulus’ face.

“They’re just lucky Lily was at work and couldn’t be here for this.” Sirius muttered as you all turned your attentions back to the boys. “They’d be working for Regulus ‘til college.” 

[emeritusemeritus]

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 5

Part 1 2 3 4 5

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. SMUT. The smut has arrived! P in V, oral (both). Angst, sadness, grief. Tags will be updated with each chapter. Not Beta-read or spell checked.

Honeymoon time 💕

Your wedding to George was a jubilant celebration with your family and friends, a chance to bask in the love you were so thankful to receive from everyone around you. You'd honoured Fred in many ways that day, including photos of him, an empty chair with his name on and many other little ways to make it seem like he was there. You'd noticed George had worn his chain under his suit shirt and the sight of it made butterflies flutter inside you.

It was a small and quaint wedding that had admittedly been rushed in planning, only two weeks after you'd announced your engagement, but it was perfect. No one had doubted your intentions and the day had gone completely to plan, except for the regular hiccups that seem to occur when a group of people are brought together. Muriel had been characteristically foul as usual and had clashed with your great aunt Ariadne though she'd avoided the more triggering topics which was one consolation.

You danced with your friends and your now blended family late into the night, with George eventually stealing you back from dancing with Bill for one final dance.

"Have you had a good day Mrs Weasley?" He asks, holding you close as you sway with surprising grace even with the healthy amount of alcohol you'd both consumed.

"The best, Mr Weasley," you beam up at him, his handsomeness once again hitting you as you look upon his smiling face.

"Couldn't have asked for better. I don't think you've ever looked more beautiful."

The night you'd spent together had not been repeated since, nor had you really spoken about it. There was a lingering tension between you, growing increasingly stronger throughout the day as you thought of your wedding night and honeymoon, the anticipation almost consuming you.

Ginny and Fleur had whisked you away from George not long after your final dance to get you ready to leave for your honeymoon, which you'd be departing for very soon. It was tradition in the Weasley family to immediately begin your honeymoon the night of the wedding and you had readily accepted the chance to exit out of the wedding a little earlier into the night, giving you and George some time alone.

You'd chosen to honeymoon in the U.K. to keep costs down, after all this whole situation was based upon George reclaiming the shop as sole owner and any unnecessary spending would only increase the amount of time you'd be married. Bill and Fleur had graciously offered for you to stay in Shell Cottage with them but George had instead chosen to surprise you with your destination. He'd tactfully evaded every single one of your questions, relishing in his power of knowledge but had thankfully given you a few clues as to what you should pack. Clothes for all weather, from hot to bitter cold, a couple of 'nice' outfits and a bathing suit. So, nothing to really go off.

Percy had arranged a ministry car for you to borrow for the week, his gift for you both and you'd decided to travel like muggles for the week, taking your time and only using magic when necessary. George was driving to your destination, the luggage and travel necessities having been packed up earlier that day by the Weasley boys and Harry.

The crowd cheered as you both walked towards the car that was waiting for you, your family and friends gathered around with jubilant faces as you walked hand in hand towards the car. You both paused to thank and embrace Mr and Mrs Weasley before climbing into the car, George opening the door for you before getting in on his side. You waved at the gathering of people in front of you as George pulled away and as you pulled away from the Burrow, you peered through the back window, squirming around the freshly painted 'just married' sign to see your loved ones fading further away as they carried on the party.

"Are you okay?" George asks gently as he drives out of Ottery St Catchpole, the rolling Devonshire fields passing you by as the sun begins to set.

"I'm... incredible, I don't think there are words for how I'm feeling," you say with a wide smile, giggling a little at your inability to get your words out. He chuckles and reaches for your hand, pulling it onto the gear stick to join his.

"I know what you mean, I feel like I'm floating," he says, flashing you a smile before turning his attention back to the road. You take the opportunity of his attention being elsewhere to really look at him,  the plains of his face looking unbelievably handsome to you. He looked stunning in his suit, the colour and cut of the material only serving as a compliment to his gorgeous red hair and sharp features.

"Checking me out Mrs Weasley?" He says with a smirk, eyes still fixed on the road. You fight to hide the creeping blush that appears on your cheeks, realising that he'd caught you staring. You bite your lip and turn away, choosing to look out of the window at the rolling hills instead. "You can you know, I'm yours now."

You turn to look at him and the smile he has plastered on his face fills you with warmth and nervous excitement.

"You look so handsome, I feel like I can't take my eyes off you," you admit, a little bashfully.

He gives a deep chuckle and squeezes your hand that is still held by his own.

"You have no idea how hard it is to drive right now, all I want to do is stare at you," he admits, though he sounds completely unashamed of his words. You blush and look away again, this time out of pure bliss, wanting to remember everything about this moment.

"Get some sleep Angel, it's quite a drive," he says softly a few minutes later, turning down the radio that was playing music in the background.

"I'm okay," you lightly protest, despite feeling relaxed by the drive. "I wish I'd taken this dress off though, not the best travelling outfit."

"And take that joy away from me? How dare you," he jokes, sounding a little outraged. Your stomach instantly fills with nerves and butterflies at his words; he intended to take your dress off.

You fell asleep a short while later, just as the last slither of sunlight had disappeared into the horizon, the long stretch of road ahead now only lit by car lights and the faint cats eyes on the ground. The mixture of the low humming from the radio, the gentle rocking of the car and the presence of George was enough to lull you into a much needed sleep as you cuddled into a pillow you'd thought to pack, wishing that you were wearing something much less restrictive but that couldn't be helped.

When you woke again, it was still pitch black and George was still driving, the car lights ahead of you the only clue to where you were.

"Hi Angel," George says, noticing you staring as he briefly looks over at you with a smile.

"Mmm, hi Georgie," you mumble back, still fighting off the last embers of sleep. "Where are we?"

"Nice try," he says, not falling at the last hurdle and you give a little huff, hoping that one would have worked. "About an hour away."

"Is there time to stop for a coffee somewhere?" You ask, sitting straighten in your seat as you abandon the pillow into your lap.

"I don't know anywhere that would be open," he says, flicking his eyes to the dashboard clock, prompting you to do so and realising that it was now past midnight, much to your surprise.

"McDonald's will be," you say with a little shrug, trying to see any hints from signposts as to where you were of where the next services would be.

"McDonald's?" He asks, completely oblivious and you can't help but laugh, never having thought about how the notion of 24 hour fast food had not yet entered the wizarding world, making George completely oblivious.

"It's a 24 hour restaurant, usually around road services, it's fast food," you explain. He immediately gets it and let's out a little 'ahhh' of understanding, telling you that there was a services coming up and you could check if there was one there. There was.

Introducing George Weasley to drive-through ordering was nothing short of hilarious and you'd briefly lamented the fact that his first McDonald's experience wouldn't be inside an actual McDonald's building but you were not about to enter a fast food joint at a service station in a wedding dress. You'd both ordered a coffee, yourself a medium coke and then you had excitedly introduced him to not only a Big Mac but also chicken nuggets, both of which were a complete revelation to him and you had to hold back serious giggles at his reactions. Half an hour later and you were on your way, coffees in hand and belly's a little fuller as you prepared for the last part of your journey.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take over? I don't mind driving to give you a break," you offered as you watch him put on his seatbelt.

"You don't know where we're going," he says with a devilish smirk but you feign innocence.

"Then just tell me and I'll get us there," you say innocently, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Nice try baby," he says with an even more sinister smirk, his eyes roaming your face briefly before he turns on the car and begins to pull away after one last sip of coffee.

You were transfixed as George turned right up a long winding path entirely shielded by trees, the long road leading you deeper under the canopy of trees until you were completely surrounded by woodland. You could make out a small, warm light at the end of the long road and became transfixed on the approaching light, trying to focus your eyes hard on that point, trying to make sense of it. The car swerved a little to avoid a large twig in the road which brought your destination into clear view.

You gasped at the beauty of the scene in front of you, looking excitedly at George who looked more than pleased at your reaction.

"George," you say breathlessly as he parks up in the little clearing beside the place you'd be staying.

It was a rustic log cabin, completely shielded away from everything by a large canopy of trees, a beautiful escape completely hidden away from the outside world. The cabin was almost entirely made of wood with wooden shutters and a wrap around deck.

"George it's beautiful," you say, completely gobsmacked as you look at the gorgeous lodge in front of you, seeing it illuminated by the multiple lanterns that offered a stark contrast against the pitch black night.

"Only the best for my bride," he teases, opening up his car door, prompting you to do the same.

"Want to explore whilst I unload the car?" He asks with a grin, holding the keys to the cabin out in front of you, the little wooden keyring clinking against the two old fashioned keys. You nod enthusiastically and reach out to grab them, pulling George in and without much thought, you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. Instantly, you realised what you'd done and took a step back, blushing a little as you avoided his gaze. His hand had instinctively wrapped around your back and he gave your back a little rub as you parted, showing no ill will as you turned and walked excitedly towards the cabin.

Opening the door, you were immediately met with an illuminated room thanks to the warm lighting from multiple lamps and light fixtures. The cabin was warm, as if there was a log fire already burning and the smell was heavenly, clean and fresh but with an indisputable scent of wood and pine, a natural consequence of it's idyllic surroundings. You walked through a little entrance hall that houses a utility room before stepping into an open living room, dining room and kitchen, all of which were warm and inviting with natural wood features throughout and neutral colours, highlighting the windows which you knew would almost certainly have beautiful views in the morning. There were two brown leather sofas that looked absolutely lush and a single armchair underneath a window that looked perfect for reading, a tall lamp beside it and a little table for drinks. There was a television and a cabinet in the corner and beside that was a beautiful log burner that was indeed lit, radiating heat throughout the home. You couldn't see much through the side door that was half glass but the outside light did illuminate the decking a little, highlighting a rather impressive sunken hot tub that was covered, eliciting a little excited squeal from you.

You walked down a small corridor that led off from the main atrium through a beautifully carved wooden door with an old metal latch which led you to the bathroom on the left and two bedrooms. You crept into the bathroom to take a peak and saw a big bathtub to the left and a built in shower to the right, as if every need was catered for. One bedroom has two single beds partitioned with a beautiful shelving unit and the other bedroom was almost certainly the master.

There was a huge four poster bed against the back wall bookended by two beside tables with lamps that looked entirely too inviting. The bedding was sheer white and completely crease free, only adding to its appeal. There was a smaller television in here too, along with a dressing table and a large, ornate wardrobe that looked older than the cabin itself.

"What do you think Mrs Weasley?" George asks from behind you as you pause to run your hand over the ornately carved bed frame. You turn to see him leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, still wearing his wedding suit but now with his tie removed and a few buttons open near his collar.

"I think it's absolutely beautiful Mr Weasley," you reply, turning to him with a look of pure elation.

"Just like my wife then," he says with a look in his eyes that makes your pulse race. He steps towards you with clear conviction and it's all you can do not to melt into a puddle, the look in his eye so dangerously arousing that you're almost frozen to the spot. It was the first time he'd called you his wife and the reaction that it pulled from your body was almost unbelievable, the sound of it almost heavenly in your mind.

As soon as he reaches you, there's a brief pause as if he's searching your face for any hint of resistance, not that he'd find any. When he sees the look in your eye, knowing that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, he steps even closer and wraps his hand around the back of your neck before leaning down and kissing you with a burning passion.

Your hands slip up to his chest, feeling the material of his lapels under your fingers and pull slightly, needing to feel him as close to you as possible as you pull his jacket off. His fingers tangle in your hair as the kiss deepens, tongues working together to fuel the burning desire between you both.

With his right hand cradling your head and his left clutching as your waist, he begins leading you to the side of the bed, silently asking if it was okay to go further.

"Make love to me George," you say against his lips, hardly wanting to pull away for even a second. You hear him groan against your lips before his hand slips from your hair and down to your butt, cradling you and taking your weight. In a move that would otherwise impress you if you'd seen it in person, he sweeps you off your feet whilst climbing onto the bed and lays you down softly before climbing over you, kicking off his shoes in the process.

"I've waited all day to rip this dress off of you," he mumbles against your skin as he begins kissing down your neck, onto your bare shoulders where your dress straps began, the soft layers of the gown suddenly feeling much too restrictive as your skin burnt up with desire. He kisses down your chest as your hands tangle in his slightly grown out hair. There's a single moment where your eyes meet, just as he hovers over your panting cleavage and it takes your breath away how absolutely sexy he looks, the desire and admiration in his eyes mirroring your own. His long fingers drag against your rib cage as they dance over to your covered breasts before he reaches in to pull down the cup of dress, exposing your right breast to him, your dusky pink nipple already hard and waiting for him. He groans, watching your breast spring free and immediately bends down to run his tongue over the pebbled nipple, eliciting a deep, breathy moan from you before his lips wrap about the little bud and begin sucking. You moan out again, throwing your head back into the pillows at the overwhelming sensation and suddenly you feel the whole atmosphere change. There's no trepidation anymore, no resistance or questioning but rather just a primal urge between both of you.

You can tell that George is feeling for the opening your dress so you divert his fingers to the small, concealed zipper on the side and help him drag it down, much too slowly for your liking. He pulls away the dress after you slip your arms out and you watch carefully as his mouth slips open to a little 'o' shape as he pulls the dress from your body, exposing you completely to his gaze. You couldn't wear a bra with your dress thanks to the unique straps but you had thought you buy a tiny white lace thong that you'd had embroidered with a little 'W' on the left side of the crotch, knowing it would either make him laugh or make him growl. Luckily for you, it was most certainly the latter as he groaned as he spotted it, momentarily fixated on your naked breasts that were exposed completely for his view, his eyes travelling down your body with acute precision before he eventually noticed your little customisation. He groans and leans down to press a kiss directly to where the 'W' was situated, just above your mound and you can't help but squirm as the sensation of having him so close to where you needed him. He notices, of course he does, and his eyes flick up to yours with a look of pure mischief as he begins kissing the inside of your thigh and across your bikini line, teasing you. You groan and can't help but roll your hips as he flutters kisses everywhere apart from where you need them.

"My beautiful wife needs something?" He teases, acting completely oblivious when you knew he was very aware.

"Please George," you beg, "need you."

Like a switch had been flicked in George's mind, his long fingers begin tracing your pussy through the very thin and nearly transparent lace, groaning once again when he feels the wetness seeping through the lace. You feel his fingers hook into the side of your thong, catching your labia with a little stroke before he pulls them away from your burning pussy, exposing you completely to his view. He wastes no time and leans down, licking a long stripe across your pussy, catching your swollen clit with the til of his tongue in the most perfect way that has you gasping and moaning.

"Fuck you taste good, so sweet," he whines into your pussy, resting his forehead against your mound for a moment before he slips down again, this time licking you with vigour. "So wet baby."

His tongue is everywhere, delicately stroking and teasing whilst also hitting every spot you need him in perfectly. It's a perfect juxtaposition between his igniting a fire inside of you, making you burn with desire and pure torment whilst also extinguishing the flames with his tongue. As soon as his finger traces your inner lips as it moves down, gently pressing into your waiting hole before he slips one of his long, deft fingers inside of you, you're gone. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, hips rising of their own accord as you grope your breasts, completely consumed by your pleasure. He slips a second finger into you as you cry out, fucking yourself on his fingers as he circles your clit with his tongue, putting pressure on the left side just as he's discovered drives you crazy.

"George, George!" You chant as you feel the beginning of your orgasm rising in you very quickly, consuming you and burning you from the inside out. Your pussy is drenched and you can feel more arousal gushing from you as your climax crests, George's own moans ringing out in your mind as he pushes you over the edge. It's like you're falling, the crescendo of light and burning arousal overtaking your whole body and mind, the only capable thought in your mind is of George. He licks you slowly as you come down, careful to avoid your sensitive clit as he laps up your cum, fingers still slowly fucking you bath and forth with gentle strokes, extending your pleasure.

You gasp to catch your breath, chest rising and falling rapidly as your heart pounds, the effects of your orgasm still lingering as you feel a tingle across your whole body. It takes all of ten seconds for you to focus your attention back to George who has pulled his fingers out of you and began kissing your inner thigh again, soothing you as you return to him.

You sit up and reach for him, pulling him on top of you as you kiss him feverishly, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips. He notices and groans deeply against your lips, almost growling as you lick at his lips, desperate for a taste. You claw at his shirt, desperate to even out your nudity and feel his skin against yours and as if he can sense the sheer desperation, reaches down and completely rips the front of his shirt, the flying and falling buttons only an afterthought as you fight to get the shredded shirt away from his body. Your hands slip to his smooth shoulders and down his back as you kiss him desperately, pulling his tongue into your mouth so you can suck on it, relishing in his deep groans and little whines. Your hands rest on his collarbones as you slowly pull away from him, pushing him slightly until he realises was you want. You overpower him with just enough force that he rolls onto his back as you immediately latch to his chest, kissing and biting as you make your way down to your destination.

His suit trousers are completely tented, the sheer size an excitement of him almost intimidating to you as you fight to open the fastenings of his trousers. You don't wait even a moment after they are open to slide them down his hips, along with his black boxer briefs until he was completely bare, except from his sentimental chain and your wedding rings. You crawl back up the bed after throwing aside his bottoms and flick your eyes up to see his own desperate look as you come face to face with his rather impressive member. His lips are parted and he looks completely desperate as he watches you carefully, silently pleading for you to take his aching length in your mouth. You grant him reprieve almost instantly, licking straight from the crest of his balls to the engorged tip of his cock, tracing the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock, following the gentle curve. He cries out at the contact and it makes you want to do everything in your power to hear it over and over again.

You gave into him completely, taking his tip in your mouth and licking all around, earning another heavenly noise from him before you sucked in your cheeks and bobbed up and down his length, taking him deeper and deeper with each fall; never stopping your tongue from running along the length of him. You were addicted to him, the taste, the weight of his length against your tongue, the feel of his smooth skin against your lips. You fought to go further with each bob, sucking him down like the most delicious treat from Honeydukes, giving everything you could.

George was moaning mess before you, desperately searching for any part of your body he could reach as he fought to stop his hips from rising each time you'd pull off, like he never wanted to leave your hot, wet mouth. Sweet names, curses and a load more expletives fell from his mouth as you pleasured him until he reached out, leaning forward to pull you closer to him.

You were dripping, more aroused than ever and so desperate for him to fill you that it was all you could think about. He pauses, looking at the little strip of lace that was still misplaced, concealing nothing of yourself and ripped the thin strings on the sides, tearing it away from your body, both of you complete bare to the other's gaze.

It was so intimate and intense that it stole the breath from your lungs, just how adoringly he was gazing at you. His hand grabbed around your neck, holding your face and threading into your hair as he kissed you completely without abandon, your chests pressed together as your leg slipped between his, desperately seeking friction.

"Ride me baby," he mumbles against your lips and as if acting directly on command, you comply. You lift your hips and straddle him, his narrow hips allowing your thighs to rest against his comfortably as your centres align, the heat and sensitivity joining together to make you both gasp.

He reaches down and holds his perfect cock at the bottom, ready for you to climb onto and you can hardly contain your cries as you slowly sink down, feeling him stretching you out. He pulls his hand away, moaning at the sensation as his hand rests on your bum, the large hand and long fingers wrapping around your bum and thigh.

It's sinful how well he stretches you out, filling you completely without any pain or discomfort, like you'd been moulded perfectly for his cock alone.

When your hips rise again and you sink back down, this time much more confidently, your head flips back at the sensation. George grunts and tightens his grip on you as you slowly begin to ride him, hips undulating and breasts bouncing as you fall into a perfect rhythm. Your hair fans out across your back and you've never felt sexier in that moment, feeling adored under his gaze and praised by not only his words but also his moans and growls.

You're both so worked up, so perfectly in sync that you can hardly contain yourself, not even caring to try and hold off the impending climax that threatens you, creeping up slowly until it's impossible to resist. You can feel your walls clenching around him, your arousal peaking as it leaks out around his cock and you're rewarded with the most incredible moans that spill from his lips at the sensation.

"George, Georgie I'm gonna," you stagger, completely breathless as you keep riding him, finding the perfect spot and movement so that he hits every single pleasure point inside you.

"Cum Angel, fuck, cum around my cock," he pants, groaning and tightening his grip on your hips as he fucks up into you. "Godric you're tight, perfect little pussy squeezing my cock so good. Cum for me Angel."

You chant his name as the heat of your second orgasm consumes you, never once stopping as you bounce on his cock. He takes over fucking up into you as you ride out your climax, filling you completely as he shoves his entire length into you before pulling almost completely out and repeating the motion. You're in complete bliss, overwhelmingly so, and can hardly stop tears of overstimulation brimming at your eyes, blurring your vision only slightly. George lets out a roar as he cums, fucking up into you with a brutal pace that is sinful at best. His hands pull you close to him, bruises forming under his grip but it's perfect.

His thrust stop slowly as he comes down from his high, riding out the last of his pleasure as he pulls you down to rest on him, softening cock slipping out at the angle. You breathe deeply as you feel the evidence of his pleasure slipping out of you slowly, trickling down until it dripped onto your inner thighs.

He cranes his neck to reach out to kiss you again, though this time it's like a warm down, gentle and sensitive.

"Welcome to the family," he wheezes after a few moments of comfortable silence and you let out a loud belly laugh at the absurdity of his words, tapping his chest as you slink down to rest beside him, his arm still keeping you pressed to him. He's covered you both with the duvet and you can't resist slipping into a very comfortable sleep, too comfortable and worn out from the day to fight it.

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[george-weasleys-girl]

Yule request - I really like Aftermath and the Next Level, so as a follow up could it be the first Christmas after the war, and Fred proposes to reader whilst they have Christmas at the Weasleys? Reader doesn't have a family (well she does but they treated her badly so she was brought up by Shacklebolt which is how she works for him so he's her foster Dad or something?) so every year since she became adopted (a baby as Shaklebolt found her as a baby in Diagon Alley left in a bad way) she has spent it with Shaklebolt and the Weasleys as Shaklebolt and Arthur are best friends. ❤️

❄️Yuletide Celebration❄️

A Christmas Proposal

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

The sound of drunken Christmas carols echoed through the Burrow. "Oh, is it that time already?" Y/N laughed as Arthur and Kingsley Shacklebolt staggered around the corner into the kitchen where she and Fred were helping Molly finish up the baking.

Molly rolled her eyes. "I'm taking that bottle of mulled wine away from you two."

"She says that every year," Fred whispered to Y/N.

"And she never does," Y/N giggled and shook her head. "It's hard to believe those two are actually responsible adults. 'Cause right now, a good stiff breeze would blow them right over."

It was at that very moment the wind picked up, rattling the windows. "Shall we open the door and find out?" Fred waggled his eyebrows at Y/N.

"Be nice," Y/N elbowed him playfully in the side. "Though it is tempting," she added with a grin.

~•~

Every Christmas since Fred could remember, Y/N, along with her adoptive father and Arthur's best friend, Kingsley Shacklebolt, spent Christmas at the Burrow.

He and Y/N had grown up together, becoming best friends and confidants. Then, somewhere along the way, he fell for Y/N, and she fell for him. Though, it took a couple of years and a near-death experience for them to finally admit it to each other.

Fred kept a close eye on her as she made her way over to the sofa. Y/N had been using her cane quite bit recently and a few times had needed her wheelchair. The colder months were hard on her, causing the damaged nerves in her back to spasm relentlessly.

She hid it well, though, all smiles and laughter, and waving off her pain as if it was nothing. But not with him. Never with him. When the two of them were alone, it was only then that she let the mask fall away. So many times over the past months, he'd held her as she cried in pain or in frustration at all the things she could no longer do.

It broke his heart. She'd been through so much already. As an infant, she'd been left to die on Diagon Alley in the dead of winter by her worthless parents, and then they rejected for a second time when she reached out to them several years ago.

And now this.

"Hey, love," he slid in beside her on the sofa. She shuddered, closing her eyes for a moment. And he knew.

Fred stretched. "I think we're going to call it a night," he announced and stood.

Y/N smiled at him. "Thanks," she said once they were alone. "You always take such good care of me."

"And I always will," he pushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Now, let's get you in bed."

~•~

Fred waited until all the gifts were unwrapped before he announced there was one more. He glanced over at Shacklebolt, who smiled and gave an almost imperceptible nod. Then he turned and knelt before Y/N, holding out a small box containing a diamond ring.

"My dearest Y/N, you are the light that has brightened up my life in ways I never knew were possible. Together, we have shared so much, both good and bad. Even on the worst days, every day spent with you has been a gift. I can't imagine growing old with anyone else, nor do I want to. Will you marry me?"

Tears flowed down Y/N's cheeks. "Yes! Yes, Freddie! I'll marry you!"

The room erupted into cheers as Fred gathered her into a gentle embrace. "I love you, Y/N. Always and forever," he mummered, his own tears mingling with hers.

"I love you too," she smiled. "Always and forever."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @charmedfandomgal @loveosewood @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman

[fa-headhoncho]

Unlike The Rest: Gits

(Eventual) George Weasley x Malfoy!Reader

Prompt: The announcement of the Tri-Wizard tournament creates drama.

Word Count: 1894

Reader: Female

Warning: None

Author’s Note: Where are all the George Weasley fanfics? I'm back in my HP phase and I've already read all of them. AO3 too. This was written before I fell off the face of the Earth too so no promises my skills are up to par.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

=====

You let out a chuckle as you watch the boys become mesmerized. The ladies of Beauxbatons let out sighs and dreamy looks as they parade down the center of the Great Hall. They were indeed angel-like creatures but the reaction was a bit overdramatic. The boys are drooling, hooting, and standing. It was quite entertaining, honestly. You take a glance over at the Gryffindor table, the look on Ron’s face sends you into fits of giggles.

Next, the boys of Durmstrang come through the doors. Well, men of Durmstrang. Whatever is in their water in the north, you need it here. The men are doing flips, twisting their staffs and it’s very entrancing. This time, the girls are the ones drooling. They were, indeed, very attractive. What catches you off guard, though, is the last two people who enter.

Viktor Krum and Igor Karkaroff.

Your mouth opens slightly, staring at the two. Viktor Krum was a legend himself, just recently coming out of the Quidditch World Cup. You honestly didn’t realize how young he was. There are whispers and gasps echoing throughout the room. But, you’re not focused on him. 

Igor Kararoff was known for all the wrong reasons. You’ve heard his name whisper throughout your household for a few months now. Doing some research during the first few months back at school, you’ve learned his history. He was a Death Eater, being one of the ones who were sent to Azkaban. He was only pardoned because he gave up the names of his fellow Death Eaters. Maybe he was a changed man, but with the attack that just happened, you were still a bit nervous that he was here.

“Oi, looks like (Y/N) has her eye on someone.” Alfred points out causing the guys around you to sound off while the girls go straight to whispering. Cedric just laughs and shakes his head at his friends, the idea humoring him. “Malfoy and Krum, an interesting pair that would be.” He continues, you roll your eyes at their assumptions.

Switching your focus from the performance, you look past them to the Gryffindor table once again. Ron had a starstruck expression on her face while Hermione had a glare, you were glad to see she recognized the former Deatheater as well. Scanning further, a particular redhead duo catches your eye.

The twins were in deep conversation, Fred gesturing adamantly as George hung his head in defeat. You furrow your eyebrows, wondering what they were talking about to make George so uncharacteristically shy. He then raises his chin slightly, making eye contact with you and panicking. He quickly hits his brother on the shoulder before gesturing towards you. Fred turns and smirks, saying something to him before sending you a goofy wave and forcing George to send one too. It causing you to let out a giggle before smiling back at them.

Cedric watches the whole thing, noticing the small blush that comes onto your face when you made eye contact with the taller ginger. He shakes his head fondly at you, “I’m sure you already have eyes on someone particular.” He slyly comments and nods his head toward the said person. 

A small smile appears on your face as you shake your head at him. Cedric knew of your crush on George and loved to tease you about it. He was the first to figure it out and the first to point out anything remotely flirtatious that went on between the two of you. He was a cheerleader for the complicated relationship you had with the ginger, supporting your continuous breakdowns about him over the years.

And, oh, were there many.

Without realizing it, you were absently staring right at George as you thought about the time you realized you had a crush on him. It was back in fourth year, Fred and Lee had disappeared in the crowd on the way to Hogsmeade so it left the two of you alone. You spent the whole day together, laughing and having fun. You didn’t even remember your two friends who abandoned you in the first place.

When you came back tothe dorms, you found Cedric sitting in the common room with a muggle book in his lap. He chuckled as you nervously blurted out your newly discovered feelings about the ginger, relieved that you finally figured it out.

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, looking back on the fond memory. George turns his head and makes eye contact with you once again. You share a dumb smile before he sends a wink your way. Cedric lets out a booming laugh when you start getting flustered. Your face flames up and you turn away, mumbling stuff under your breath about how unfair it was to be that attractive.

Cedric sets a gentle hand on your shoulder, patting it comfortingly. You let out an exasperated sigh and fall into his chest, “He’s going to be the death of me, Cedi.”

“I’m sure you’ll die happy then.”

=====

The castle already felt overcrowded with the extra bodies and they haven’t even been there for twelve hours; the rush back to the dorms after the announcement last night was ridiculous. You almost got trampled over three different Durmstrang hoards. You weren’t as lucky as Collin Creevey, poor boy got crushed by a sea of Beauxbeatons girls.

The great hall was surprisingly empty for having the additional schools being there. Most people were either showing their new friends around, sleeping in, or waiting around the cup to see who has the bravery to put their name in. It was nice to have a break from the chaos that occurred in such a short amount of time.

The twins immediately spot you once you walk through the doors of the Great Hall as if they’ve been waiting for you all morning. They wave you over, the mischievous smiles on their faces make you want to turn around and pretend you never came down here.

The boys separate and make room for you on the bench, allowing you to sit in your unspoken designated spot between the two. “Good morning, boys.” You mumble a greeting before reaching for a pancake.

“Mornin’.”

“Well, don’t you look rather ravishing today?” Fred compliments once you're settled with a plate full of food. “Doesn’t she, George?”

“I’ve never been graced with anyone more beautiful in my presence.” He dreamily says, gently pushing a piece of hair out of your face. You freeze in confusion, the dry pancake hanging out of your mouth as their words process in your tired brain. Ravishing? You were still in your pajama pants and sweatshirt that you were certain was your brother’s. Beautiful? Your hair was in disarray, more strands were out of your ponytail than in it by this point.

This wasn’t out of character for George, but Fred? You couldn’t recall the last time he complimented a sweater you wore. Realization washes over you when you put the two together...

“What do you two gits want?” You spit out and going back to your food. Fred lets out his infamous offended scoff, pressing a hand to his chest which makes you roll your eyes. You stab at the breakfast at your plate as you wait for them to answer. They silently communicate over your head, sending each other looks and mouthing words. “Just let it out, will ya.”

“So, we’ve been thinking--”

“--That’s never good--” You immediately quip while looking over the rim of your cup, hiding the smile that appears when Fred rolls his eyes.

“We, the brave and daring Gryffindors we are, would like to enter the Triwizard tournament.” The older ginger announces and you to choke on the pumpkin juice. “So, we are trying to make an age potion. We have the base of the potion but we are having trouble with the rest.” He pulls out a muggle notebook and a pencil, a list of the ingredients and directions ripped out of a book taped to it. “So, we need your expertise.”

“Are you guys mental?” You immediately scold, an onslaught of worrying thoughts flooding your brain. “There is no reason for the two of you to put your name in that cup. You would be risking your lives for what? Get your name out there? People already know the people behind the outrageous pranks.”

Fred opens his mouth to defend himself but is cut off by you continuing your ranting. You were absolutely fuming at them. How could they put themselves in danger like this? People knew who they were and they shouldn’t risk their lives for a dumb prize. “You guys aren’t even old enough to put your name in the cup, why do you think you could win it if you even got in the damn thing?”

“And Cedric can?” Fred dares to challenge you. The grip on your cup tightens at the mention of Cedric planning to put his name in the cup. You honestly didn’t want him to but you knew if he got picked he would kick ass. He’s excelled at all his classes and he has shown how talented he can be. Cedric wanted to volunteer for the challenge, not the rewards.

“Cedric has been at the top of our class since first year. He’s proven himself worthy on many occasions and has the mental capacity to handle the challenges they put him through. You two are not Cedric.” You simply state, voice scarily steady. It’s not that you didn’t think they had the skill to survive, it’s just that you were scared to lose them. Yea, you were scared to lose Cedric as well, but you knew his passion would perceive above all. “What do you guys even want to be in it for?”

“The money.” Fred instantly answers, you let out a scoff. You knew their dreams of opening a joke shop but risking their lives when there was an easier way to do that was not the way to go.

“You guys are so stupid.” You shake your head and get up out of your seat. You couldn’t stand to be in the same room in fear that you would snap and say something you would regret later. “I can’t believe you two would risk your lives for a little bit of cash.”

“We don’t have money as you do, Malfoy, so I don’t even want to hear it.” Fred has the audacity to continue the argument as George stares down at his food. “Some of us have to work harder to afford what we want.”

You physically flinch at his direct insult to your family. It takes you back to the time your first year when the feud between the three of you was at its peak. It made your blood boil, “Well, Weasley, don’t come crying back to me when you’re on your deathbed because you use the last two of your combined brain cells to enter yourself in the most dangerous competition in Wizarding history.” And with that, you turn on your heel and storm down the aisle. A few people’s heads turn your way but you don’t pay mind to them. It was a matter of life or death when it came to the Tri-Wizard tournament and those two numb skulls didn’t see the severity of it.

[change-is-perceivable]

Change is Perceivable 2024 has now fully drawn to a close!

In the end we had a total of 41 works sent in for this.

I'm so impressed with everything that was turned in, you are all amazing for participating. Thank you so much!!

I hope everyone who chose to participate had as much fun as I did!

First off we have three amazing pieces of art

🦋Monster 🪻Confession 🦋Sleep + Photo

All three were made by @ablique!

Two Podfics

🦋 Storytime Naps by EliseDonut [3m, Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood]

🪻Prompt: Sleep 🪻Summary: Oliver wants Percy's attention but also doesn't want to make him give up his limited reading time.

🦋 Cheese Wiz by AlihotsyTotsy read by EliseDonut [7m, Luna Lovegood/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Captivate 🪻Summary: Percy has a very special guest on his Wizarding Wireless talk show about cheese-making.

And Lastly, Thirty-Six fanfics

Which I have elected to post in alphabetical order

🦋After Dawn Delight by SiobhanHazel

[Viktor Krum/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Change 🪻Summary: Percy wishes Viktor would eat a proper meal, but unfortunately, Viktor distracts him from cooking breakfast.

🦋 and my love remind me, what was it that i said? by armadilloradio

[Ginny Weasley & Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Promise 🪻Summary: “Promise?” “Of course.” Ginny didn't look convinced. “Pinky swear it.” “Pinky-what?” Percy asked, finally sitting up.

🦋 Chances by EliseDonut

[Penelope Clearwater/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Bathtub 🪻Summary: Penelope wants Percy to take a bath with her.

🦋 Choose by pink_turtle

[Tom Riddle/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Rebellion 🪻Summary: The Weasley family farm is failing. Molly and Arthur forbid Percy from going to their Lord for help. Percy rebels against them.

🦋 Confession by taslowrites

[Bill Weasley & Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Confession 🪻Summary: Percy and Bill have a conversation at the pub

🦋 Don't try and drink your grief away by Lucigoo89

[Fred Weasley & George Weasley & Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Confession 🪻Summary: Percy is blaming himself for Fred's death, after all he is the one who spoke to him, joked with him last. He isn't coping well and has resorted to drinking. Drunk Percy does something unthinkingly. Something he can't remember doing.

🦋 I need to confess something by moony_and_mad

[Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood]

🪻Prompt: Confession 🪻Summary: Percy find the courage to announce something to all his family at dinner.

🦋 I Promise to Protect You From Monsters, Real or Fake by pink_turtle

[Ginny Weasley & Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Promise + Monster 🪻Summary: Ginny wakes Percy up in the middle of the night. She's terrified of the monster in her closet.

🦋 In a galaxy of stars, you will always shine the brightest by ShiverMeTimbersCaptain

[Barty Crouch Jr./Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Facade + Captivate 🪻Summary: He's outside again. Lurking in the hall. He can tell. Quiet as a mouse, a wisp in the corner, invisible, Percy will know he's there. He always knows when Barty's there. The surprise on his face when he opens the door is almost laughable.

🦋 It Doesn't Have to be Love by EliseDonut

[Roger Davies/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Freckle 🪻Summary: Roger's starting to understand Percy's appeal.

🦋 it's gonna cause a scene by armadilloradio

[Bill Weasley & Charlie Weasley & Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Confession + Puzzle 🪻Summary: The downside to not tasting the liquor, however, was that Percy quickly forgot it was even there. And while his drinks were limited, it didn't take much before he started swaying slightly where he sat and lost control of his tongue. The latter would prove to be his undoing, and later on would be the reason he only drank around people he knew and trusted. But for now, Percy remained blissfully unaware, pressed against Charlie’s side while Ezra declared yet another victory.

🦋 Life-changing by DiAngeloFan

[Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood]

🪻Prompt: Facade, Captivate, Change + Perceive 🪻Summary: Just a sweet perciver one-shot for Percy Weasley Appreciation Week!

🦋 Make a promise by moony_and_mad

[Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood]

🪻Prompt: Promise 🪻Summary: Dopo la guerra, Percy Weasley è una persona completamente nuova e vuole riconnettersi con qualcuno del suo passato.

🦋 monster like me by AlihotsyTotsy

[Pansy Parkinson/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Monster 🪻Summary: Percy let his staff leave early for the Anniversary Celebration, but he noticed one person stayed behind.

🦋 Monsters and Men, are we not the same? by ShiverMeTimbersCaptain

[Marcus Flint/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Monster 🪻Summary: He comes to him like a stray, timid, dangerous. Just glimpses through the trees. He is watching him, Percy knows this. The villagers say there is a monster in the forest. To beware of the old house, cursed and haunted by this beast. Percy calls him his monster, in his head.

🦋 Nothing Will Happen by EliseDonut

[Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Alone 🪻Summary: Everything will be fine. A simple set of rounds, so what if he's alone. Nothing will happen…

🦋 of the truthful by starsailing

[Bill Weasley & Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Bathtub 🪻Summary: The war rendered most of Bill's capacity as a big brother useless. No Quidditch games outside, no adventures, no protection against Death Eaters. But at least he could give Percy a good birthday, right?

🦋Oh, everything is solid gold by SarkyLittleMonster

[Cedric Diggory/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Goblet 🪻Summary: 'Do you mind?' He snaps and then immediately feels like a dick for the hurt expression Cedric gives him. Cedric Diggory, is everything a Hufflepuff should be. Kind and good natured, fair and loyal with a good sense of humour, sporty and a B grade student at the very least. He's an extremely likable person. The only annoying thing about him being that he does not give up. And by giving up, Percy is referring to his seeming infatuation with him. He's tried everything. To let him down slowly with hints and kind gestures, to avoid and ignore him, sometimes just pointblank booking it when the sixth year approaches him, but it is all in vain. He's like a fucking daisy or something, just popping up everywhere and being cheerful. And Percy doesn't have the heart to tell him to get lost. If he's honest with himself, he doesn't want to tell Cedric to get lost.

🦋 Old Obsessions are Hard to Smother by EliseDonut

[Colin Creevey/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Photo 🪻Summary: Colin just finished developing a new reel of film, but a sight outside the window has him forgetting all about it.

🦋 Poinciana by lapis_059

[Percy Weasley & Weasley Family]

🪻Prompt: Assorted 🪻Summary: Percy was kiddnapped by a Math teacher.

🦋Promise by taslowrites

[Ginny Weasley & Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Promise 🪻Summary: Percy heads back to the Burrow after the war.

🦋 A Promise of Protection by EliseDonut

[Colin Creevey/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Promise 🪻Summary: Colin Creevey was his soulmate. So, he would do anything in his power to keep him safe.

🦋 Rebel Rebel by moony_and_mad

[Percy Weasley/Original Male Character]

🪻Prompt: Rebellion 🪻Summary: Through the melodic notes of Rebel Rebel from David Bowie, Percy Weasley jig all night in a pub.

🦋Red Looks so Good on You by EliseDonut

[Marcus Flint/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Puzzle 🪻Summary: With the rain coming down like this, Percy would rather be in bed then be tutoring Marcus Flint.

🦋 Snowglobe Rebound by EliseDonut

[Colin Creevey/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Comfort 🪻Summary: Audrey broke up with him. Not only that but she cheated on him. A trip that was only meant to last a few weeks turned into her leaving him for some childhood friend he'd never even heard of. Three years of his life, gone just like that.

🦋the sounds of silence by armadilloradio

[Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Sleep 🪻Summary: The first time Oliver spent a night at the Burrow, he made a comment about how it was no wonder Percy liked quiet with how loud his house was all the time. Said he wasn't sure how Percy could fall asleep with the ghoul in the attic, the chickens outside, and people running around all night. At the time, Percy just shrugged, and joked that he couldn't wait until he could cast a silencing spell over his room. That it would help him sleep better. Percy decided now that he never wanted silence again.

🦋 sweet like summer, sapphire eyes by armadilloradio

[Marcus Flint/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Change 🪻Summary: She huffed, “You're insufferable.” Funny how it was said with such fondness now. The first time she had said that to him, after he made a snide comment about her family, she’d truly meant it. “So are you. It’s why this marriage worked.”

🦋 take me to church by hozier by Ignatius P (Jackson_Overland_Frost)

[Tom Riddle/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Promise + Monster 🪻Summary: And yet, it has been a long time since he has knelt here, before this particular throne, since he has been of service. It has been a long time since his god wanted him, and Percy turned him away.

🦋tangerine by glass animals by Ignatius P (Jackson_Overland_Frost)

[Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Comfort + Goblet 🪻Summary: He takes the goblet from Voldemort’s outstretched hand, peering absently into its depths; the wine is dark red, almost black, but not nearly viscous or opaque enough to be mistaken for blood.

🦋 then somebody's discovering you by armadilloradio [Penelope Clearwater & Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Alone 🪻Summary: Percy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He liked being alone. And he had friends — well, a friend, and so what Oliver was busy with Quidditch this year? Percy didn't need someone around all the time, and he quite enjoyed that his quiet study time in their dorm lasted longer now that Oliver had something to do.

🦋There's a monster under my bed by Lucigoo89

[Fred Weasley & George Weasley & Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Monster 🪻Summary: There's a monster in Percy's room and no one will help him deal with it. Instead he is facing his bedroom door, wondering if anyone will care if the monster eats him. It's hard being the good boy in such a large, chaotic family sometimes.

🦋 Those things I miss, but know are never comin' back by SarkyLittleMonster 

[Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood, Audrey Weasley/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Alone 🪻Summary: Percy Weasley is the last Weasley. He goes back to The Burrow. ~ He had his first kiss in this room. It seemed so much bigger than, crowded back against the washer, arms looped around broad shoulders. Oliver's picture smiles inside his wallet, waves at the cracked old leather, jostles against Audrey, while she ducks her head down. First love, faded to silver. Second love, tarnished like gold. ~

🦋 when my heart starts beating, lungs stop breathing by armadilloradio

[Audrey Weasley/Percy Weasley]

🪻Prompt: Captivate 🪻Summary: “I’m actually running a gallery later this week and some of my works will be on display. You should stop by! You don't have to buy anything, of course, but just come to look around! I can even show you around.” She had grinned at him, and Percy was sure his heart stopped. After a moment, Percy realized she was waiting for a reply, and he quickly said, “Yes, yes, of course, I can stop by. If my work schedule allows it, that is.” Merlin and Morgana, Percy needed to get a grip.

🦋 Why Didn't You Tell Me? by pink_turtle

[Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood]

🪻Prompt: Confession 🪻Summary: Oliver writes Percy a letter.

🦋 You called me pretty and I told you you were wrong by SarkyLittleMonster

[Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood]

🪻Prompt: Captivate 🪻Summary: ~He learnt to write to his mother once every two weeks, to let his siblings check up on him on weekends, to let Minerva vanish the bottles of cheap vodka from under his bed, to go to his meetings once a month, take a walk in the evenings, eat food again. He was doing so well. Just on the edge of happiness, just enough removed without being entirely unattached. And then Oliver Wood.~ Or: middle-aged (ish. I tried) perciver where they're both idiots and professors at Hogwarts

🦋 you're too sweet for me by armadilloradio

[Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood]

🪻Prompt: Comfort 🪻Summary: After a stressful day of trials and being at the Ministry, Percy walked into their flat and beelined for the sofa where Oliver sat. Oliver might have said a ‘hello’ or gave Percy a gentle smile, but Percy all but collapsed onto him before he could. And Oliver, like the saint he was, pulled Percy close.

[askamydaily]

FINALLY ...

I don't have to care about gender reveal parties.

(The following column runs in newspapers across the country on May 24th, 2024)

Dear Readers: After 21 years writing the “Ask Amy” column, I’m announcing that I’m leaving this space. My final column will run at the end of June.

I’m healthy, happy, and 64-years-old. This is a decision I’ve been wrestling with for over a year.

When I was first hired by the Chicago Tribune to write an advice column after Ann Landers’ death, I was a middle-aged single mother. My daughter Emily and I moved from our long-time home in Washington DC and relocated to Chicago. 

[Emily and Amy, Freeville, NY. Photo by Chris Walker for the Chicago Tribune]

My welcome to Chicago was to deliver a solo performance of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” in front of 35,000 baseball fans during the 7th inning stretch of a Cubs game at Wrigley Field.

This turned out to be a metaphor for my experience writing this column, which has been an exuberant and sometimes nerve-wracking effort of trying to hit the right notes before a huge audience. 

After several great years in Chicago, Emily left for college and I moved back to my tiny hometown of Freeville, NY (pop. 505), to spend time with my sisters, aunts and cousins, and to be with my mother at the end of her life. 

My experiences have mirrored those of many of my readers. For me, these last two decades have been about the intensity and consequences of both love and loss. 

After returning home, I promptly tumbled into a Hallmark Channel plotline, when I fell in love with and quickly married a man I’ve known since childhood (we grew up on neighboring dairy farms). My husband Bruno and I then blundered into the oftentimes awkward blending of our family of five daughters. 

[2008, Freeville, NY]

I became a stepmother, and then a grandmother, all before I believed I was ready. 

My mother and her three wonderful sisters are gone, now. A niece and nephew died, tragically, while in their teens. Much of my recent life has been absorbed by caregiving, mourning, and recovery.

Day in, day out -- over the last two decades – readers have generously shared their own vulnerabilities about many of our common experiences. I’m grateful that we’ve been able to help each other.

I’ve burned through eight laptops, opened bushels of postal mail, written columns in the car, on board planes, in hospital waiting rooms, on my honeymoon, and at my mother’s bedside. During this time, I’ve also written two books, a screenplay, and scores of essays. 

Doing this work has sent me into therapy. It has inspired me to explore the teachings of world religions, and to seek the insight of thinkers like Joseph Campbell and Carl Jung. I’ve quoted the wisdom of Maya Angelou, Joni Mitchell and Fred Rogers -- as well as dozens of poets, social scientists and psychologists. 

I’ve made my share of mistakes, been well-pranked – at least twice (that I know of), and learned how to apologize, ask for forgiveness, and to forgive other people for their own mistakes. Inspired by readers’ dilemmas, I’ve also worked hard to mend fractured family relationships and to be a better friend.

My personal experiences are a reminder that we humans can’t really control what happened before or what happens next. Joy, like grief, comes at you in such unexpected ways. That’s why it is so important to pay attention. I’ve learned to do that.

Being an advice-giver has challenged me to be aware of cultural, social, and relationship trends -- and to appreciate the quirks of human behavior.

When readers get frustrated by my lengthy answers to sometimes petty problems, they will often suggest that I should just tell people to “get a life!,” but I think that wrestling with our questions – from the quotidian to the profound – is living.

For the next month, I’ll continue to publish fresh columns and rerun some favorites. After that, my fantasy is to drive an RV across the country, visiting people I’ve met through this work who have challenged me and tantalized readers with their anonymous requests for advice.

In my hometown, I’m opening a little lending library. You can find me on social media, through my Asking Amy newsletter, at amydickinson.com, or at the Freeville Literary Society on Main Street – talking books with kids and offering advice to anyone who asks.

Love,

Amy

[ginnyw-potter]

James Sirius's first Halloween

“Happy Halloween!” one of the Aurors of the night shift wished them as he entered the department.

“Yeah, you too,” Ron said half-heartedly as he gently attempted to lead Harry out into the hallway.

They walked in silence, the excitement of the holiday reaching neither of them. Ron paused in front of the fireplaces and turned to Harry. “I’d ask you out for drinks tonight, but I bet you’d rather go home.”

“Yeah, need to check on Jamesy,” he said with a small smile. “But thanks.”

“He better not grow until Sunday,” Ron said with a shake of his head. “Tell him, no growing until Uncle Ron sees him again.”

Harry chuckled. “I will. Goodnight.”

Ron waved goodbye as he stepped into a fireplace. Harry quickly got into a fireplace too before someone had another chance to wish him a happy Halloween.

Seconds later he arrived in the living room of his home. The noise of the fireplace roaring had announced him, and Ginny walked into the living room to greet him.

He was alright, really. But the moment he saw her his shoulders slumped, and his face pulled into a deep frown. Tears prickled behind his eyes, but he blinked them away.

She was in front of him immediately, pulling him into a welcome hug. “I told you to take the day off.”

His arms wrapped gratefully around his wife. “I’m fine.”

She hummed and didn’t argue, continuing to hold him until he let go first. She met his eyes.

“How’s our kiddo?”

Ginny smiled, kissing his lips. “About to be awake from his nap.” She stepped away from him and pointed her wand at the fireplace, making the flames flare up into a cosy fire. “Do you want to go to the graveyard tomorrow?” she asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know.” He looked at her as if she would have the answer.

“James hasn’t been there since right after he was born, I thought it could be nice,” she said, her expression soft and compassionate.

He nodded. “Yeah, let’s do that.” He looked at her. “Fred after?”

“Mum will insist regardless,” she supplied.

Harry turned his head when he heard the baby’s cry.

“Your son is awake,” she said. “Go on. I’ll get started on dinner.”

Harry couldn’t hide the fact he was eager to hold his son. Becoming a parent himself had given a new perspective on his parents’ deaths and it was at the front of his mind tonight. He walked into the kitchen with the baby still crying—James was clearly hungry—and his gaze fell on Ginny.

In the small pause his son gave him by catching his breath, Harry spoke. “Now we have a kid of our own, it seems so much more cruel. They were younger than we are now. Their lives were barely getting started, just had a baby... they didn’t get a chance to live.”

Ginny nodded silently, setting the knifes to work chopping up vegetables. A pot filled itself at the tap and then landed on the stove, which she switched on. She walked to him.

“I have been thinking of that too,” Ginny said, caressing his hair. “It really wasn’t fair. I can’t imagine leaving James,” –Her eyes flitted to their son and filled with worry—“But I know I’d give my life for him in a heartbeat.”

“Me too,” he agreed. He offered James to her. “He needs feeding. He’s very upset with me.”

Ginny took the baby into her arms easily. “That feels like five minutes ago, but I suppose if you’re hungry...” She settled down on a chair to feed him.

Harry kept an eye on the food, putting the sausage into the pan before turning back to Ginny.

“You know,” she continued. “Nothing is going to happen. Not tonight.” She looked up from James to meet his eyes. Her look was determined.

He didn’t want to admit the fear that had settled in his gut. He was so grateful he didn’t need to explain. He stepped to her and placed a kiss on her hair. “I know, because you’re with me.”

She let out a small chuckle, her focus returning to James. “Your Auror dad relies on his wife for safety, isn’t he silly? Yes, he is!”

Harry’s smile widened and he continued looking at them, reluctant to let them out of his sight. Only when Ginny said she smelled something burning, did he turn back to the stove.

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝THE SECOND DRINK.❞

(not my gif)

summary: the second part to the firewhiskey series, this time liquid courage brings you to the aftermath of the world cup. the drunken celebration and the we are the champions euphoria and the singing and dancing inside of your enormous tent - possibly the last time you and george would feel invincible, just hours before the world was flipped upside down.

warnings: domestic fluff, alcohol again, obviously, mentions of near-death experiences/being trampled, the phrase “drinking like a maniac” is used but in no way is alcohol being abused

word count: 1.4k

a/n: okay, okay, i know like 95% of what i write is smut, but i seriously love writing domestic fluff. :) hope you enjoy!

//////

“Let’s fucking go!” Fred shouted the moment he’d stomped back into the tent, flinging his arms into the air, “Break out the Firewhiskey, lads, it’s time to get our Irish party on…”

“Stop shouting, Fred,” Percy said irritably from the couch, shutting his outdated copy of Witch Weekly with a sharp SLAP. “You wouldn’t want Mother to hear about this, I assure you, I know you’ve been drinking like a maniac.”

“You’re so right, Weatherby,” George chortled from alongside Fred, and as Percy’s ears glowed red, you had to slap a hand to your mouth to suppress your laugh.

“Where did the boys go?” Arthur asked blankly from behind the twins, pivoting on his heel. Whether genuine or otherwise, he appeared not to have heard Fred’s desire to get drunk. “I - Harry?”

“Sorry, Mr Weasley,” Harry said as he ducked back into the tent, out of breath and red in the face. “That was - um, we ran into a couple of people.”

“That was the stupidest stunt I think you’ve ever pulled in your life, Ron!” a young, shrill voice you quickly realized was Hermione Granger’s shrieked from just outside the tent. “Five Galleons? For what?”

“Please don’t ask,” Harry tried weakly.

It had been an awkward stretch of time between the initial finale of the World Cup in the late afternoon and however long it had taken for the rest of them to get back to the tent after they’d decided to fetch some water from the opposite side of the campground. First getting back to your tent in the influx of wizards leaving the arena had been a terrifying endeavour, when everyone was shouting, cheering, dancing, singing, setting off green and gold bursts of sparks from their wands, and leprechauns were scampering about.

In fact, the horde had almost trampled you in their excitement, and you knew you’d never be able to repay Charlie for snatching you out just in time.

So it was understandable why you’d been reluctant to return to the festivities since then: you’d been lounging in the flat-sized tent with the older Weasley siblings, sipping tea and watching your leprechaun gold disappear on the counter while you waited for everyone to come back.

“I am ready to sleep for three days,” Ginny announced as she flounced back into the tent, her hands on her hips. “God, what a match!”

“Moran - Mullet - back to Moran - they score!” George cried out, laughing heartily at himself. “Where’s Bagman, eh? We’re bloody rich.”

“Where’s your girl?” Fred asked, looking around blankly, but he spotted you instantly. “Oh, there she is.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the title.

“You survived the campground,” you mumbled with a small smile on your face.

“We did,” George replied, stepping forward to wrap you in a hasty, one-armed hug. For seemingly no reason, he leaned in to kiss the side of your head, but you recognized the gesture for what it was.

“You still got the Firewhiskey?” he whispered in your ear.

You did: until Fred had openly announced his intention to get drunk, it had been kept a bit on the down low that you had the rest of the five Galleon bottle hidden away in your bag in the girls’ tent, because you knew there wasn’t a chance Molly would allow you to bring liquid courage to the World Cup.

(Honestly, it had been a bit saddening, knowing you were about to drink the rest of it. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get to Diagon Alley before you went off to Hogwarts to replenish your stash, and you’d be damned trying to getting a glass from Madam Rosmerta at Hogsmeade, so this was your summer’s last hurrah.)

Looking to the positive, you nodded slightly and released him.

“May as well put dinner on,” said Arthur, wandering around the kitchen kind of aimlessly, “The festivities will be starting soon...”

Ginny laughed, tossing her fiery red mane over her shoulder. “You say that like they haven’t already started, Dad.”

“We won, lads!” Fred took the opportunity to shout again, and everyone laughed, except Percy, but you saw his slight smile.

//////

As the evening progressed, the party atmosphere around the campground intensified. The sound of drums and bagpipes echoed through the night, people sang songs in the beautiful Irish tongue you couldn’t understand, and at some point, people began setting off colorful Muggle fireworks, casting dazzling spells into the night sky. Wizarding and magical entertainment combined together, it made for a wonderful and chaotic night.

The Weasley family and their friends gathered around a small campfire outside the tent, toasting marshmallows and giving each other a play-by-play of the afternoon’s match for the millionth time. It didn’t matter how many times they went over the match, how many lively debates erupted, or how many times somebody claimed to see the Snitch flying around before Krum, nobody could get enough.

“Moran was doing things with a Quaffle I’ve never seen before,” Ginny was saying, her eyes shining. “I cannot believe she was able to get that second goal past Zograf, it was honestly astounding-“

Above your heads, fireworks were detonating in fascinating spirals and twists bursting with colour, drowning out Ginny’s voice.

Tipsy, you stared up at them in wonder. There were leprechauns giggling and frolicking among the twinkling stars, taunting those sitting below, and the fireworks were consistently a mix of orange, green, and white for Ireland’s flag - you hadn’t seen any retaliation from the Bulgarian corner of the campsite just yet, but it wouldn’t have mattered, Ireland was demanding all the attention.

George had pulled you into him on the log, the Muggle fire was crackling in front of you, orange and warm. Your throat was still on fire from the first sips of Firewhiskey, but you were already feeling the warmth of the drink in your belly, and for a moment, all was well. Your face fit perfectly in the crook of George’s neck. He smelled like a spice you couldn’t quite place, and Chocolate Frogs.

“No time for losers…’cause we are the champions…” you heard a crowd singing in the distance, and you smiled gently, delighted that a Muggle song was so catchy, it had found its way into the wizarding world.

Amid the laughter and cheer, you couldn't help but express your curiosity about the mysterious stunt that Ron and Harry had pulled earlier, so you discreetly tapped Ron on the shoulder.

“Come on, you two, spill the beans. What did you do for those five Galleons?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

On his other side, Harry exchanged a glance with Ron before sharing a mischievous grin.

(Merlin, did he ever look like his father.)

"Let's just say we had a little bet with some fellow fans, and things got a bit competitive," Harry said, trying to be vague while his green eyes twinkled with mischief.

Ginny, who had been chatting with Bill, Charlie, and Percy, overheard their conversation and couldn't resist chiming in. "Oh, I know exactly what they did. You see, they challenged a group of Bulgarian fans to a broomstick race. They had to fly around the campsite three times, and the first one back won.”

Ron laughed, confirming Ginny's story, "Yeah, and I flew like a bat out of hell. Harry and I beat those Bulgarians fair and square. I've never seen Harry fly so fast, bloody hell.”

The group erupted into laughter as Ron continued his story in a melodramatic tone, describing his daring flight and the impressed expressions on the Bulgarian fans' faces. Even Percy, over on the other log, couldn't help but crack a smile at the ridicule of it.

“You know you weren’t supposed to do that, Ron,” Hermione reminded him, but her sourness seemed a bit forced: she had clearly enjoyed the spectacle just as much as everyone else.

With everyone laughing and merry, it seemed like a good time to slip away.

“Want a tea, George?” you asked rather pointedly, without looking at him.

Catching on, George was already getting up from the log. “Isn’t the kettle in the tent?’

“Be right back, everyone,” you announced, before you hurried back into the tent that positively stunk of cats.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, you couldn't help but reflect on the incredible bond you had formed with the Weasley family. Your last summer hurrah had turned into an unforgettable adventure, and you looked forward to more magical moments at Hogwarts in the coming year.

[youphoriaot7]

QSMP RECAP : DAY 184 (9/22)

PAC is teasing lore

the book TUBBO left for fred is gone, but there was no response listed (he thinks cucurucho found it)

FIT and TUBBO started looking into philza’s disappearance

FIT and TUBBO made a grave for philza

TUBBO explored the federation bathroom’s sewers

TUBBO got basically thrown out of the federation offices—he also asked if cucurucho knew where philza is (and got a “hahaha no”)

FIT went back to the site of ramon’s first death, cleared the dungeon of mobs, and blew it up

FOOLISH not build titan.

TUBBO investigated the sewer and found the black tank with water

FIT caught tubbo up on quackity-vs-elquackity lore

FOOLISH build titan.

TUBBO made plans to investigate/break into the federation offices tomorrow (i think?)

FOREVER poked around quackity’s house and found the facility(?) he’s building underneath

BBH pressed ron for more information and found out how the federation hierarchy works

CARRE was announced / did his joining stream

FOOLISH confirmed that it hurts him when people pop totems

ROIER built alone

BAGI and FOOLISH pressed bbh about becoming a soul vulture

cucurucho ordered QUACKITY to clean up the (suddenly dirty??) adoption center (bagi helped)

QUACKITY found an old diary from tilin and a picture of both of them

FOREVER and ROIER tried to help quackity remember tilin (forever showed him tilin’s grave)

BBH gave serious hints about his current situation to foolish

FOOLISH figured out bbh is colorblind

FOOLISH and BBH discussed a possible federation plant amongst the islanders

BBH promised to show foolish his “fish”

BAGI met the capybaras

[twt] spanish updates → portuguese updates: “it’s causing…leaks?” portuguese updates → spanish updates: “you need to call someone to fix this.”

[twt] french updates → english updates: “why is it cold? is it ice cream?” english updates → french updates: “what ice? there’s only water here.”

[twt] NEW EVENT ANNOUNCED: Sunday, September 24, 1pm PST: "VII" WELCOME TO THE QSMP, CARRE

[sailtomarina]

Flourish, Blotts, & Granger

Fred bustled through the busy streets, one person at the forefront of his mind. Everyone seemed to be talking about her workplace and how shocked they’d been over the news. Not a single one of them had been able to answer his questions.

Villanelle, the long-established owner of Flourish & Blotts, had announced her retirement.

He couldn’t remember a time where the woman wasn’t the bookseller’s proprietress. Even Charlie and Bill had stories of their run-ins with the witch during their school years. She was as much a part of Diagon Alley as the Leaky or Fortescue’s. Fred could only hope that one day WWW would hold a similar timelessness to those playful of heart.

Now, he feared the worst. He needed to speak to someone who would certainly know more. Someone who was very close to the owner herself.

Crowds swarmed the entrance and first floor of the shop, but he fought his way through and up the stairs to spot a familiar head of cinnamon-threaded brown atop a ladder.

“Hermione!”

It was a good thing he still had the reflexes that had saved him all those years ago from certain death. She spun in surprise at his voice, lost her balance, and fell straight into his arms as he dashed forward to catch her.

“Fred! Did I hurt you? Are you alright?”

Sprawled on his back and looking up at the halo of curls around a face dearer to him than his own life, Fred could only grin.

“Frederick Gideon Weasley, say something or I’ll think I’ve knocked you silly!” She pulled out her wand to run a diagnostic over him, not caring that she still sat astride him for anyone to see.

“Godric, you’re beautiful.”

Her breath caught and colour filled her cheeks. Fred thought she’d never looked more becoming.

“Now you’re really frightening me.” She reached out to smooth a hand across his brow, which he caught and pressed to his lips. “Fred! What has gotten into you?”

This time, he finally did sit up, but he trapped her there in his arms as he continued to gaze at her. He lowered his voice. “I came as soon as I heard.”

“Heard what, exactly?” She tilted her head, a furrow appearing between her eyes as she frowned at him.

“About Villanelle’s retirement, of course.”

The furrow vanished as she perked up, a wide grin spreading across her face. “Oh! Yes! Isn’t it wonderful news? I’m so happy for her. She’s been planning this for so long I wasn’t sure she was ever going to do it.”

Her sincere joy for her employer baffled him. Fred would have thought her distraught about the change in ownership. “But what about the shop? Will it be closing or have you already met the new owner?”

Her follow-up actions were as unexpected as they were aggravating. She wiggled, her body swaying from side to side and hands coming together as she clapped.in excitement. It was adorable, but it also rubbed against him in a way that prompted him to grab onto her hips to still her motions. 

“You’re looking at her!” she cried. Arms came up around his neck to hug him tight and it took her choking hold for the words to finally penetrate his thick skull.

“You’re the new owner of Flourish & Blotts?” 

He felt like he should have seen that one coming. Hermione had worked for them for ages now, having found refuge in their shelves shortly after discovering that Ministry work wasn’t for her. Villanelle became the mentor she’d always dreamt of, providing invaluable feedback on her writing and lending a listening ear whenever she needed to bounce ideas off of another. 

“We’ve already signed the paperwork! There should be an announcement in this weekend’s Prophet.” She pulled away, fingers gliding up to card through his hair, eyes soft on him. “We’ll be seeing each other even more now since I’ll be taking her place in the Diagon Alley Association.”

He snorted, already imagining several ways he could sneak in inappropriate touches under the table without anyone the wiser. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

She shook her head slowly. “No, though it does mean I’ll be less likely to pop over for lunch until I get used to juggling it all.”

Fred snuck a look around before making his next move. It wouldn’t do for unsavoury comments to begin before she’d even taken the mantle publicly. Assured at their privacy, he cast a quick Disillusionment spell before standing up abruptly to pin her against the same ladder from which she’d fallen. 

“Fred! What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed. He noticed she didn’t push him away. On the contrary, her legs wrapped around him automatically until she settled against a step.

“I’m taking advantage of the time we have left and celebrating with an early lunch.” 

It took months of ownership for Hermione to finally stop blushing every time she looked over at the second-floor ladder, and even longer than that before she caved and let Fred pin her against it again.

He vowed it wouldn’t be the last. He had plans in store for the two of them, after all; plans that involved a lifetime of celebration.

876 WC

Cross-posted on Tumblr and AO3

Word prompt “Flourish” from FB Group Lauren’s Kitchen

I loved getting this word since I felt like I could go many different ways with it. I ended up sticking with the familiar bookshop since I’ve been in a cosy mood lately curled up in my blankets and sweaters while it rains outside. What better place to spend my time than in the book-lined aisles of our favourite Diagon Alley shop?

I’ve always adored Fred, but this one today is for Moonfairy. May Fred live on forever in our hearts!

[someonexsomeone]

Fragile

Title: Fragile

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Summary: The Triwizard Tournament is a stupid idea...until it brings George something he didn't know he was looking for.

Authors Note: Day 6!!! Wel...okay I know this didn't go up last week. I had to take a week off because, in true fanfic author fashion, my landlord sold the house I was living in and we needed to find living asap lest we go homeless. But!! We did it!! I haven't slept and I'm so stressed I cried when we got approved for a new house, so I wrote this as a reward for myself! I hope you guys like it! I plan to get the one for this week out tomorrow so next Thursday will be back on schedule!

Dumbledore had made many confusing choices throughout the years George went to school with him as the headmaster. Allowing teachers to pick on students was the first to come to mind, followed quickly by random last-minute points to change the winners of the house cup (Fred told him several times to let it go since they won, but there was something that always nagged George about it), but this year’s TwiWizard Tournament was, he had to admit, quickly climbing the list. His brothers never mentioned anything about it, and neither had their parents, so why suddenly bring back a death tournament when everything around them was already a reminder of the death awaiting them outside the castle walls?

“A way to bond us all together!” Dumbledore happily explained, a twinkle in his eye that George knew only from the same look Fred got when he thought he was doing something brilliant, and since Fred was typically a coin toss on whether was would be true or not, George wiggled his nose in distrust. “I want everyone to remember this is a friendly competition, no matter how serious it may get, so intermingling is highly recommended. Now, how about we give a warm welcome to the two new schools joining us this year!”

It was as full of bravado as George expected, each school expecting to out-perform the other with shows of magic and flips and who knows what else, with Hogwarts left to do nothing but a jovial karaoke of their school's anthem. And, who was George to deny the crowd the twin’s spectacular singing voices? The giggles from the people around them were expected, but some coming from the other two schools was a welcome surprise. George couldn’t help giving it that much more of a performance, just to please his adoring audience, eyeing some of the lovely students in pale blue as they huddled closer to hide their laughter from a disapproving headmistress. 

Then came the announcement of how to apply to the tournament. Fred only needed to spare his twin a glance before they nodded, each imagining the large treasure at the top of the podium. After years of selling products, snatching things here and there from Snape and Sprout and pretty much salvaging anything from anyone, there was a lump sum hiding at the bottom of Fred’s trunk, hidden cleverly in a bag disguised as a dirty pair of underwear, that would help improve their operation tenfold, but this? This would do more than they would ever imagine. How many products would they be able to make? How many ingredients they could buy to refine plans they only dared to dream of? Dare say, even turn their production into something so much more than a traveling trunk of wonder? George hadn’t hoped to dream so boldly so quickly, but this would be worth so much more than they could make for the rest of their time in school! This brain was whirling with the plans they already made, and how quickly they could be made real. And then…heartbreak.

“It’s for your safety!” he heard Fudge say, though it was nearly incomprehensible over the shouting throughout the Grand Hall, the twins louder than anyone else. Outrage! They were near enough to the age restriction, and who was some new old wizard to come in and make these decisions for them? Thus, the scheming began.

Even though he believed Dumbledore to be a bigger ditz than not, he did know his magic was stronger and more refined than the average wizard. Alright, the above-average wizard. But this was worth so much more than a little scolding, and he had seen the hint of a smile on the headmaster's face whenever the twins were on the verge of getting in trouble for their pranks. He had a soft spot for troublemakers, Fred decided early on, and it allowed them to be bolder than they would have under a more watchful eye. Jokes on him, George concluded many years later, that his more lenient attitude made him and Fred nearly overly confident in their abilities, especially their abilities to get away with things that a normal person couldn’t even think of. 

A mountain of ingredients was needed for an age-altering potion, even one as temporary as they were planning on making. Illegal? Maybe. But there were no laws against age-altering potions so long as they didn’t get in trouble while under its influence or force someone against their will to drink it. A short 5 minutes, and only a few months of aging? They had made pranks much more elaborate, and they had spent more than their fair share of time over a bubbling cauldron. All they needed was to get the ingredients and everything was as good as set, right?

Wrong.

The first few ingredients were the easiest. George, ever the good student, volunteered to help Professor Sprout water the plants the first years were studying. She was so frazzled, bless her, that she didn’t notice George take clippings from a select bunch of herbs on the opposite side of the greenhouse from where he was supposed to be. Fred was able to sneak a little here and there from their shared potions classroom, and they had just enough money saved up for an innocuous visit to the potion shop down in Hogsmeade. They had more than enough flasks and bottles saved up over the years to dry the needed things appropriately, and the house elves were more than happy to allow them use of a burner to bring everything to a rolling boil. Everything was set for the brewing, needing to happen on a waxing moon to ensure they wouldn’t age too much too quickly, but there was still one, tiny, pesky problem left…

“How in the bloody hell are we going to find a Lightsparrow’s Talon!” Fred was beyond frustrated, pacing the room in front of his brother. The two had commandeered their dorm room, their roommates besides Lee Jordan knowing well enough now that being around the twins while they planned would inevitably cause them to get caught in the crossfire, with papers strewn all around the room. Theories, replacements, and possible combinations filled each page, all with nearly illegible scribbles confirming their uselessness. “I should have just snuck into Snape’s cupboard during detention when I had the chance!”

“And risk trouble not even McGonnogal could talk you out of? You know he’s only locked down even more since someone else started stealing from him.” Fred huffed, finally plopping down on his bed. “Besides, we don’t even know if he has any. None of the upper-level classes are brewing potions with them, and the Matron doesn’t have any potions that require them.”

“So, what? We just give up?” George rolled his eyes. After years of failed experiments, Fred’s grouchy attitude was more than easy to ignore.

“You know that’s not what I’m saying. I just think we need to get a little more creative.”

“But we’ve tried everything! That stupid library never has anything we actually need.” George just chuckled, walking over to his brother to give him a playful pat on the shoulder.

“Why don’t I go take another look before we give up all hope?” Fred huffed again, crossing his arms and slumping his shoulders like a child. “I haven’t reached the end of the Herbology section yet, and we have enough Swindlebrine powder for another go before the final product.” Fred looked at his twin once, before huffing again. A quick flop, and he was more or less laying across his bed.

“...fine. But, after dinner, we formulate a plan to take a look around Snape’s cupboard just in case.”

“Deal.” They shared a smile, George patting Fred’s leg this time, before ducking out the door. The easiest way to deal with Fred, before food was served, was either to distract him with a problem or let him rest. Sleeping, George found, was always the easier option.

Since the new students infiltrated the school, every time of day was absolutely bustling with activity. Between the end of classes and dinner, most students preferred to hang out with friends, meaning the hallways were empty besides the random groups that walked to and fro their destinations, and teachers were either tucked away in their offices to grade work or in their private studies doing their personal projects. It was the time of day that Fred and George found it easiest to scout out prank spots, and sometimes got as lucky as setting up the bulk of it to finish after curfew. Now though? George had to spin his body in every direction to avoid the constant stream of people. His height allowed him an advantage of seeing over most heads, but it also meant people were able to get extremely close and bump into him without any warning. After years of getting away with pranking people in plain sight with the help of a crowd, he was more alert than ever.

Just up ahead, a group of Hogwarts students were loudly arguing with a group from Durmstrang. About what, George didn’t even want to know, but it was making it incredibly difficult to get past. With a huff, one that would impress even Fred, he slipped into a nearby hallway, not nearly as bad as the main corridor, but he didn’t waste much time before making a few more turns. The good part of sneaking out past curfew was the ability to explore every part of the castle without getting distracted. He and Fred nearly had the layout memorized, but the secret passages granted them much easier access. The way he was walking would take him the long way to the Library, but it was filled with empty hallways courtesy of the tens of abandoned classrooms. The further he walked, the fewer people he could see and hear around him, until he came to a pocket with absolutely no one. On either side, the roar of students was ongoing, but the reprieve did George a moment to breathe. 

If this was your school, George thought bitterly, you wouldn’t be treating everything so disrespectfully. Honestly! Who even told them that wandering around the school was a good idea?

“I’ve already told you no, Dennel.” George stopped still. Just around the corner, he could hear the shuffle of feet, almost like they were walking in circles. Vaguely, he thought he recognized the voice, but no face came to mind immediately.

“My Darling, don’t you know that saying no now will do nothing to help you later?” That voice he did know. George groaned internally. The other bad part of all the new students was the absolute influx of activity in the classroom, namely from a group of Beauxbatons boys that thought it was so fun to flaunt their power and wealth and knowledge, even if they were wrong more often than not. It was almost like having the worst combination of Hermione and Draco, multiplied by 5. The leader of their stupid clique? Luc Dennel, a prat in every meaning of the word. “My Mother has already sent the robes. Do you want to break her heart?”

“That’s why I’m giving it back. You have no right to speak for me or dictate what I wear.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong.” George leaned around the corner, peaking out just far enough to witness the conversation. With a start, he recognized you immediately. Although you only shared a few classes, George remembered you were skilled in the subjects you did share, and even went as far as helping those around you in spite of their magical school. At one point, you had even helped with some of his wand movement. His hand tingled in reminder.

“Get your hands off of me.” Dennel had you cornered in the hallway, positioning you so your back was to the wall with little room for escape. In your white-knuckled hand was a bag, no doubt the robes his Mother supposedly sent you, but above that, Dannel had his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly there was no debate on whether it hurt or not.

“Just submit to me already.” Dennel’s words were honey, but his tone sent a shiver down George’s spine. Not from fear, no, but from disgust. “It will happen sooner than you think. Why not just do it now?”

You were shaking. George could see even from his vantage point that your legs were on the brink of giving out, the grip on the bag the only thing keeping you from collapsing. A troubling burn whirled in his chest, the unmistakable feeling of needing to help someone bubbling to the surface. He could hardly remember the last time he felt this, though vaguely the image of Ginny shivering against him when people were accusing her all throughout her First Year of being strange for being so protective of her journal. His hand gripped his wand fiercely. He could hardly watch the way Dennel’s hand raised to touch your face.

“Surely the product in your hair didn’t make you deaf, eh, Dennel?” George rounded the corner then. Both you and Dennel jumped, whipping your heads to look at the unknown spectator to your conversation. George watched your shoulders deflate, from relief or embarrassment he couldn’t tell. George didn’t even flinch at the glare Dennel sent him. “Don’t you know it’s not very polite to corner unsuspecting people in a corridor?”

“This is none of your business, Weasley.”

“Oh? Apologies, I wasn’t aware you owned the hallway.”

“No, but I do own them. So, butt out.” In a single moment, before George could even wave his wand, your fist collided with Dennel’s face, sending you both flying with the grip he still had on your arm. George rushed over, pulling you from the floor and away before Dennel could recover. Your glare was fierce, but George could feel your shaking now as your body was pressed against his.

“No one owns me,” you growled out, laughing the bag at the body on the floor. Dennel recoiled as George flinched. Sympathy pains in this case, he hated to admit, always existed man to man, no matter who they were. “Not even you.”

George hurriedly pulled you along the corridor, away from his original target of the Library, to a hidden corridor. He winced once as the magical door closed behind him, hoping that after escaping that disaster you wouldn’t mind being alone in another low-lit corridor with a man just for a few moments in order to get you to safety.

“I’m sorry, I know you probably don’t want to be in this enclosed space. Just through here, though, will take you to the courtyard. We’ll be out quick, promise.” He tried to gently guide you, mindful of the painful bruise he could see already forming around your wrist, but you only managed one step before your legs gave out. George joined you on the floor quickly. “Woah! Hey, are you okay?”

He hardly knew what to do when you burst into tears, your entire body quaking with your silent sobs. His arms hovered awkwardly, too afraid to touch you but too worried to give you space. All it took was a gentle pat on your back before you turned, throwing yourself into his arms, seeking any comfort you could.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” George could barely make out the whispers between your chattering teeth.

“Oh, no, you have nothing to apologize for,” he reassured quietly. He took another moment, before wrapping his arms entirely around you, squeezing as tightly as he could to his chest. His back was aching with the effort to keep you both upright, but he tried to focus instead on quietly murmuring affirming words to you, watching as the candlelight flickered across the dirt walls in order to keep his breath deep and calming. Who knew that having a little sister that was terrified of everything would make him an expert in handling people? 

The two of you sat there until your breathing slowed to a gentle rhythm, your body almost completely still, and then some. George continued his work, moving from reassurances to mindless chatter, just filling the quiet room with something other than your stuttering gasps of air, not letting you go for a moment. He worried you fell asleep for a second, before you gingerly sat up, rubbing your red eyes to get rid of any cloudy vision.

“I don’t normally do that, I promise.” George let out a startled laugh at your admittance, breaking the gentle atmosphere. You gave him a weak smile.

“I always knew Dennel was an ass.” This time you laughed, offering your hand to help George off the floor. Without needing the words, you looked each other over, whipping a smudge of dirt and a fleck of dust to ensure you both were clean. Well, clean as you could be after proactively cuddling on the floor. Your cheeks flared when you came to the realization of what you must look like to an outsider. You met George’s eyes again when he reached over and gently pat your hair down.

“Thank you.” George just gave you a smile.

“It was no problem at all.”

“Even if it means Dennel is going to be an insufferable ass to you now?”

“He already was.” That made you laugh again. George realized he really liked making you laugh. “What’s his problem, anyway?” At this, your smile fell. George felt like kicking himself. There was an awkward beat of silence. “You don’t have to-”

“He wants my hand in marriage,” you said at the same time. That made George gape. “Well, he wants my family’s business in order to save his, so marriage is what he’s set on now.”

“But…but he’s a Seventh Year! And you’re a Fifth Year! That can’t be allowed.” You rolled your eyes.

“Weasley. Surely you know of the old pureblood traditions. Fifth Year is hardly too young to arrange a marriage.” George just continued to gape at you. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to marry him.”

“Good!” Even George winced at how loud that came out. “I mean, good. He’s a prick.”

“A massive one.” Your smile was back. “So, is there anything I can offer my knight in shining armor for the rescue?”

“Rescue?” George huffed, taken aback. “You hardly needed the help with an arm like that.”

“Yes, I will admit, the punch was all my doing.” George laughed. “But most people would just drop me off somewhere near people and hope I was okay. You’re a special breed, Weasely, to sit with someone on the floor of a dirty corridor while they went through hysterics.” You cut him off before he could rebuke. “So, anything I can help the King of Pranksters with? I am in your debt.”

“That is a dangerous thing to say to me, lovey.” George’s mischievous smirk sent a chill down your spine. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to raincheck that favor. Unless, of course, you could get me a Lightsparrow’s Talon,” George laughed.

Despite the obvious sarcasm in his voice, you still responded, “Would a liquid form work?” That stopped his humor immediately.

“What?”

“Would a liquid form work? It’s the only type I have on me.” You rummaged through your pocket, producing a small bottle of…something that glimmered lightly against the candlelight. George wondered if he was going to have a jaw ache from the way it kept falling open.

“Where did you get that?!” Even as you held it out to him, he was frozen solid.

“It’s not in its purest form, but you wouldn’t need it to be anyway if you’re making a potion. If you mix in some snail secretion it should become tacky again without compromising the effects.” When he still didn’t take it from you, you waved it gently. “Well? Will it work?”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“What? Oh, I brought it from home.” George gave you a funny look. “Liquid Lightsparrow Talon? Don’t you use it here as a cure for muscle and mental fatigue?”

“Lightsparrow Talon is extremely hard to get here!” It was your turn to look confused.

“The Talon is, yes. But if you gain their trust you can start a farm where they drop nearly all the time. The liquid form is a portion of the Talon ground down and liquified to make over a hundred doses per talon.”

“Is this common knowledge? How do you even know this?”

“The method is new, yes, but it’s been published hundreds of times over the years. The research team is based in France.” George smacked his hand against his forehead. Of course you would stop at E in the Herbology section, he thought miserably. If I had just continued for another row I would have answers for Fred by name. Your laugh pulled him from his thoughts.

“You’re pretty funny, you know that.” In a quick motion, you leaned over, tucking the bottle into his front pocket. His face flared red. “Let me know if you need anything else. The exit was this way, right…” Your voice trailed off as you made your way down the dirt path. 

George felt his heart thumping loudly in his chest. 

“Thank you, Dumbledore…”

______________________________________________________________

masterlist  l What is Laufeyfest? l Laufeyfest masterlist

[secretsandwriting]

Part Two: Half Human Half Whatever

Thirteen dead reapers, Thirteen spears, Thirteen bodies devoured by mushrooms, Thirteen days, Thirteen hours, Fourteen People.

Previous -- Masterlist -- Next

“I would’ve thought it would be harder to get to Death.” Dick inspected the map Danny had found. 

“This Death has made it easier to visit. From what I heard, the previous Death was almost impossible to go to.” Danny took the map back. “While easier, it’s still dangerous, more than half who go, don’t come back… This Death may be nicer, but she’s still the ruler of the reapers and someone who's capable of killing anyone she wants.”

“You’re going to see Lady Death as well?” An old man with a blindfold questioned them. “I guess most of us need something from her huh.” He smiled softly as he looked at the ground. “It’s been said Lady Death likes collecting eyes, and she’ll trade souls for them. I’m hoping I’ll be able to get my wife back. What are you visiting her for?” 

“He keeps finding dead reapers at the foot of his bed so we're trying to find out why.” Another man whistled at that.

“Damn, and I thought the assassins coming after me were bad.” He looked at his watch. “Thirteen hours exactly.” Everyone looked at their watches or phones. It had been thirteen hours to the exact second. “Well, the city’s right over here through this tunnel. Let's go before we get too close to 14 hours, when it comes to death 14 is the worst number. I’m Michel by the way.”

“Danny.”

“Dick.”

“Jason”

“Tim.”

“Bruce.”

“Steph, she’s Cass.”

“Damian.”

“Clark.”

“Jon.”

“Conner.”

“Fred.”

“Marcus.”

“Make sure you're careful in the city. The city itself was founded on a blood sacrifice and needs blood to survive. Normally it doesn’t need much, but every thirteen weeks it requires thirteen human sacrifices. If my timeline is correct, this week is the thirteenth week. Meaning piss of Lady Death and you might end up a sacrifice.”

“The nice thing is that we don’t have to worry about the reapers. Once you're in the city, you're off limits unless Lady Death herself gives the command.” Jason helped Fred over the bumps in the ground. He refused to take off his blindfold, wanting to be prepared to never see again. “Here we are, the gates of Okadus.” Michel ushered all of them in. 

“It’s this way to her palace.” He led the way, weaving through the streets until they came to a gate with a sign next to it.

To gain entrance to the castle you must sacrifice one of your bones, choose quickly or the city will choose for you.

All of them chose the same bone, the tailbone. A completely unnecessary bone, but a bone. Entrance was granted and the gates opened. The group walked through the hallway until they reached the large double doors at the end.

“This is the throne room. You just have to announce who you are and what you're here f-” He was cut off by the door opening. “Or not?” They stepped in and were met with Lady Death herself. She was lounging in a throne built of bones, a long black dress that seemed to melt into the floor, the color darker than anything they had ever seen. Her hands were black, it went up her arms fading out into the palest of white broken up by the black of her veins. Her eyes were somehow even darker than her dress, and her black hair hung down straight, framing the pale skin of her face. 

“Let’s save the fun one for last, what can I do for you Fred?” The old man stepped forwards.

“I’m here to trade my eyes for my wife’s soul.” Death visibly softened. Fred pulled the blindfold off and looked Death in the eye. “I love her more than anything and I want to be with her again.” 

“Unfortunately I can’t give you her soul. It’s too late for that. The only thing I can do is move your death closer so you can join her sooner. For one of your eyes, I’ll move your death to thirteen days from now and you’ll be escorted straight to your wife.”

“Yes! That would be wonderful!” With the snap of Death’s fingers Fred was gone and a reaper was in his place. 

“Fred’s moved up, you are to reap his soul in thirteen days and escort him directly to Anna. You can do the paperwork on the way if you want or you can do it in your office before you take him. Just make sure it’s done on time.” 

“Alright, Marcus.”

“I want to trade my eyes for immortality!”

“No. Don’t argue or I’ll have you placed in the dungeons and used for the next city sacrifice.” She waved her hand and Marcus was removed by one of the reapers. "I swear everybody wants to be immortal." She muttered under her breath.

“Michel. If you ask the same damn thing you’ve asked every month I will kill you myself.” Michel walked himself out. 

“If I had known this is what I would be dealing with everyday I wouldn’t have taken this position…” Danny knew the feeling well. “So, what brings the Ghost King to Okadus?”

“One of my friends has been having some serious trouble so I wanted to get it sorted as soon as possible.” He stepped aside and everyone pushed Bruce forward.

“Bruce Wayne. What seems to be the problem and why do you think I can help?” Bruce explained everything that had happened the past thirteen days and they all waited, hoping she would have some answers. Good answers.

“Well, the mushrooms everywhere were probably because I’ve been in Gotham the past thirteen days and with everything else going on they probably grew from the concentrated death magic. The thirteen bodies are from the sacrifices. I normally pick a city and find people who won’t be missed and this time it was Gotham so that’s nothing too bad. As for the dead reapers, and presence watching you, I’ll have to double check but I’m pretty sure it’s just a side effect of you escaping death a few too many times.” 

“Normally people can’t see the reapers and just spend thirteen days overly paranoid and then it goes away. I’m not sure why it happens but everything should be fine tonight. I’ll double check a few things but that's probably it. If anything else happens, have Ghost King send me a message and I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“And how would I get in contact with you?” Danny raised an eyebrow. It had taken him a year to even figure out how to even get to Okadus and now he has to learn how to contact her?

“I told the reaper you grabbed to give you my phone number, you’re not the only half human half whatever you know. Anyways, if that’s all I’ll send you home.”

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 25

WARNINGS: passionate kissing, British swearing

For once, you're happy to go to your classes. They'll hopefully help get your mind off of all of your problems. And, even better, today you get to continue Harry's Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. Towards the end of your second class, your excitement keeps you from focusing on the assignment. Once it is time for lunch, you gobble down your food and hurry the twins to do the same, and then the three of you head up to the Room of Requirement.

You're a little disappointed when Harry begins with the basics. Though it seems simple, Harry insists that the disarming spell, "expelliarmus", could mean the difference between life and death. He has Ron help him demonstrate the spell. They point their wands at each other, Harry speaks the magic word, and Ron's wand goes soaring across the room.

"Alright then..." Harry says, turning back to the crowd. "Let's split up into pairs. Everyone, find a partner."

Almost immediately, Fred and George latch onto each of your arms.

"Y/n is my partner!" George announces to the world, pulling you closer to himself.

Fred tugs you the other way. "No, she's mine," he chortles, as if George was joking.

"Ladies, please," you say, wrenching yourself free of the twins' hands. "Control yourselves!"

George chuckles sheepishly, running a hand through his thick, red hair. Fred merely shrugs with a shameless grin.

"Are you guys having any trouble?" It's Harry. He's been walking around, checking on his new pupils.

"Yeah," replies Fred. "Trouble picking partners."

"Oh. Well, uh..." Harry searches the room. "It looks like everyone else is paired up. I suppose I can be someone's partner... George?"

George's shoulders slump forward, and he looks at you like a sad puppy. "Yeah, alright. Lead the way, Professor Potter." You hear Harry laugh as you follow Fred over to a vacant corner of the room where you both can spar, and it makes you smile. Harry hardly ever laughs anymore.

"Alright, let's do this!" Fred exclaims, obviously happy that he got you as his partner. He points his wand at you, standing with his right foot forward, and holds his left hand out behind him.

You laugh. "We're not fencing, you know."

Fred's enthusiasm dies for a brief moment, his stance weakening. "Well, I—"

"Expelliarmus!" you shout, and Fred is left empty handed.

Fred's mouth hangs open in shock. "Y/n...!"

You shrug your shoulders and flutter your eyelashes at him innocently. "I'm only playing the game!"

The surprise on Fred's handsome face turns into a dangerously sly expression that makes your face redden. "I see," he says. He doesn't move to fetch his wand, but starts slowly toward you instead. "If that's how you want to play it..." You walk backwards, giggling giddily and wondering what he plans to do as he draws closer. When you think you've reached the wall and don't run into hard stone, you look back to find that an open doorway has magically formed behind you. You gasp in alarm while Fred grins crookedly, totally unfazed. It seems that the Room of Requirement has created a small hiding spot for just the two of you. You silently thank the Room as Fred finishes, "Then you won't mind if I cheat a little bit."

Fred corners you into the little stone cubicle with a rather fervent, perfectly intoxicating kiss. His big, warm hands cup the sides of your face gently, yet purposefully. You absolutely bask in the moment, closing your eyes and once again letting your head spin because of that delightful honey-redwood scent. You feel Fred's hands slide from your face and down your arms. It isn't until your wand slips out of your grasp that you realize what Fred is doing, and your eyes snap open.

Fred backs away and holds up your wand with a triumphant smile. "Expelliarmus," he sniggers.

You laugh out loud, but quickly stop yourself in case the Room of Requirement didn't make the walls sound-proof. "I'm not even angry," you snort, taking your wand back and tossing it aside (a soft pillow conveniently appears to catch it before it hits the floor). Fred's eyebrows rise in surprise when you grab his loosely knotted Gryffindor tie and tug on it teasingly. "But I might be soon if you don't come back here."

The tops of Fred's ears turn red and he clears his throat, grinning flusteredly. "Yes, ma'am!" he laughs and obediently proceeds to kiss you again, swiftly picking up an intense level of energy that sends your heart pounding as you do your best to match it.

But Fred's exceeding height makes it difficult for you two to reach each other. Fred has to bend down quite a bit; you want to wrap your arms around his neck, but can't entirely even when you're standing on the tips of your toes.

"You... are... too... tall!" you giggle in between kisses.

Fred lets out a low grumble that communicates something in between agreement and impatience.

Then, to your surprise, Fred clamps his large hands around your waist and lifts, carrying you like a pot of water a couple paces before sitting you down on a sort of stone bench (that wasn't there before) which protrudes from the wall about four and a half feet above the ground.

You're delighted to discover that you are now sitting at precisely Fred's height. He appears satisfied as well, smiling that handsome, crooked grin before diving for your lips once again.

Fred kisses you passionately, fiercely, hungrily, pushing you up against the wall like he can't get you close enough. Now you easily hug his neck, feeling your hands around his strong back and broad shoulders. Fred's own hands gradually come back around out of the hug and slip down your waist to rest at your hips, his forearms on your legs. His kisses slacken and begin to move.

Fred kisses the side of your mouth, then your cheek, and beneath your ear. You've closed your eyes by now and open them momentarily when you feel his fingers brush your hair aside. Fred follows with a line of lovely kisses that trail down your neck, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms, and your eyelids close again involuntarily. Fred comes to a halt when his mouth reaches the collar of your dress shirt that keeps him from going any further.

"Hmm," Fred's deep voice hums in your ear. You hold back what would be an enjoyed shiver, and feel something tug lightly at your collar. "I'd very much like to remove this..."

You feel yourself blush severely, but he can't see it so you play it off coolly with a chuckle. "Sorry, love," you say softly, petting the back of his head. "It's not the time and place for it."

"I suppose you're right," Fred sighs in mild disappointment. He plants one more kiss on your neck and pulls away. "Though I can't imagine—"

You gasp as the sudden realization hits you, and Fred's eyebrows lift in surprise. "The time!How long have we been here? Is lunchtime over yet? Has everyone left?"

"Ah," Fred replies, nodding once. He helps you down off of the stone seat before you can squirm off. "I doubt George would leave without us." You go to snatch your wand from the pillow and you rush out of the little room with Fred close behind.

"There you are!" It's George. Other than you and Fred, he's the only person left in the Room of Requirement. He comes trotting up to you, wearing a relieved smile. "Where in the world did the both of you bloody apparate to?"

"Over there," Fred responds, jutting his thumb back over his shoulder. You and George look to see nothing but a full, stone wall, and you wonder how no one had noticed the opening while you and Fred had occupied it. "We only stepped away for a quick peck."

A contagious, ecstatic grin spreads across George's just previously confused face, and he looks to you. You blush slightly and shrug. "It was a little more than a peck..."

Then George looks down somewhere below your gaze, and his expression morphs into one of concern. "What's that on your neck?" he asks.

Your hand immediately flies to the side of your neck where Fred had kissed you. No way. That's all it had been, right? Only kisses. There's no way Fred had given you a... a hickey without you realizing it... right? You swallow nervously and turn to face Fred with a look of partially accusatory questioning.

"No! Nope, I did no such thing!" Fred snorts, shaking his head back and forth quickly. He glares half jokingly at George who laughs.

"George!" You punch him hard in the arm. "You had me scared out of my socks!"

George rubs his bicep in pain, but continues to laugh. Fred can't help but join in and soon you have to let go of your anger and find yourself chuckling, too.

"How did you know?" you ask George as you, him, and Fred exit the Room of Requirement with your arms linked together (with you in the middle, as usual). "That I'd fall for your prank?"

"Fred always goes for the neck," George responds simply.

"Wha— I do not!" Fred defends, and you laugh.

[george-weasleys-girl]

North Star Series

Chapter 45 - One More Week

Summary: George and Y/N impatiently await their "official" wedding day

Warnings: none

Start here:

~•~

Married life suited George. More than anything else, he knew he was born to be Y/N's husband. He woke up smiling every day, knowing it was another day by his wife's side.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," he'd mummer before kissing his groggy wife awake.

His life was perfect.

Well, almost.

It'd been fun at first. Keeping the Big Secret. It felt almost like pulling a prank.

But now, a month later, the fun had worn off. He was tired of keeping his marriage quiet. He loved his wife, and she loved him. And wanted he the whole world to know it.

"I'm tired of it too," Y/N had agreed. "But we're almost to the finish line. Just one more week, and then we can both shout it from the rooftops."

"Shout it from the rooftops, eh?" A grin spread across his face. "I could cast an extra strong sonorous charm. That way, the entire city will know. Maybe we can do it early in the morning and startle all the Death Eaters awake."

"And probably quite a few muggles too." Y/N giggled, shaking her head. "Nothing quite like waking up to a disembodied voice booming its newlywed status all over London."

George shrugged. "Give'em something to talk about," he said, then bolted upright. "They might even put it on that muggle mystery show... what's it called? We watched it a couple of nights ago."

"Unsolved Mysteries?"

"That's the one!" He shouted out, nearly bowling her over the side of the bed. "We'd be famous!"

By now, Y/N had gone from giggling to full-on laughing. "I don't know about famous. But we'd definitely be... something."

"Yep, something to talk about," he grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

Their lips had barely touched when a familiar tapping sounded at their window. George leaned his forehead against Y/N's and chuckled. "Mum has the most impeccable timing."

~•~

Y/N paused in her dressing to take in the chaotic cuteness that was Artemis and Nyx. They fluttered around the room in a merry little chase, hooting and nipping at each other. "Why don't you two take it outside?" she chuckled, opening the window after they swooped too close to Madam Mim, startling her out of her morning nap.

"Aw, here you go, Mims, your favorite spot," George gently placed the disgruntled cat on his pillow. "And look, there's a nice sunbeam to keep you warm," he said, giving her a few pats before resuming getting dressed. "I just realized another reason I'll be glad to get through the ceremony," George continued, throwing on a sweater. "Mum won't be showing up at the butt-crack of dawn every morning to finalize the wedding plans. Like, how many times do we have to finalize them before they're finally finalized?"

"Well, we did change the location at the last minute," Y/N said, referring to their decision to have the wedding at a rental cottage in Scotland for the added safety and to hopefully prevent any inconvenient questions from her grandma about why Diagon Alley was boarded up and all but abandoned, knowing she would insist on visiting if they were close by. "And besides, we're getting free breakfast every morning."

"True," George acquiesced. "Still, I'll be glad when I can publicly call you my wife. Free breakfast or not."

"Me too, my love," she said, leaning over for a kiss, which was, for the second time, interrupted. This time, by Fred knocking on the door to announce Molly's arrival. "Wakey! Wakey! Out of the nest, my little lovebirds! Mum's here!" He garbled with a mouth obviously full of food.

George rolled his eyes. "Duty calls," he said, offering his arm. "Shall we, my dear?"

~•~

They entered the kitchen to find, as usual, a full breakfast spread across the table. "Help yourselves," Molly said, unrolling a long parchment with a seemingly endless list of ideas that she no doubt thought up the night before. "I've already eaten."

"Mum's making sure you get that big wedding whether you like it or not," Fred whispered.

"What was that?" Molly snapped, eyes narrowed at her oldest twin.

"I said," Fred cleared his throat and batted his eyes. "That you're making sure we get a big, hearty breakfast whether we like it or not."

"Oh, um, right. A good breakfast is important. Now eat up, dears," Molly stammered. "Anyway, as I was saying, these are just a few things I thought about last n-" Mrs. Weasley screeched to a halt mid-sentence, her now wide eyes glaring down at George and Y/N's hands. "What is this?!" She pointed. "Explain yourselves!"

The couple followed her fiery gaze downward to discover that in the chaos of the morning, they'd completely forgotten to hide their wedding rings.

If your name is crossed out, I'm unable to tag you.

~•~

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