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tenpintsof-sundrop · 2 months ago

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Omg you have no idea how excited I am for the new George fic, a NOVEL!?! You spoil us, you truly do. May I please see the tiniest of snippets? Don't wanna ask for too much !!

Yeah, it's so wild to consider that I wrote a novel in a week, but a short novel (or a novella) is 40k and the fic is 50k in total lmao. Because once I started writing these characters, I couldn't stop. Also, I have even started working on a companion piece for this fic with ideas that I wanted to use but couldn't find a place for in the main fic. So... I might be releasing two fics in this verse. Who knows. I am just soooo obsessed with this George x Slytherin Reader dynamic

NOW POSTED - Part One of the fic is now posted <3

(and if you are reading this after April 2025, Part Two may be posted as well and it might already be complete. it's a two part fic)

I'm Not Angry (Anymore) - George Weasley x Fem!Slytherin!Reader (Enemies to Lovers) - FANFIC PREVIEW

Warnings: There's not much in the way of warnings for this small section, but the fuller fic will have more emotions, more elements of angst - including themes of blood purity, family betrayal, and all the themes that come with the war times in Harry Potter (death, torture, killing people due to personal prejudice); the longer version of the fic will also have smut - a lot of it. This section only has some descriptions of slightly creepy masks, the horrors of working in retail, and Fred being rude toward the reader character being her back. Also, the reader character goes by she/her pronouns, but most of the pronouns used throughout the fic will be you/yours.

Word Count: 1,700

If you want to see the full fic when it comes out in a few weeks, go over to my writing blog @sundrop-writes and follow me there (but it will be reblogged to this blog as well, so you can follow me here if you want to)

...

“Um, excuse me, Miss?”

You were distracted away from your work when someone called for your attention - you had been opening and unpacking a new box of Screaming Yo-Yos, but you put that aside for now. You looked up and put on your best (rather fake) customer service smile, the shelf in front of you still half empty, only halfway done as you abandoned it to help the customer.

You rose up from your back-aching kneeling position on the floor and wiped your hands on your apron - an ugly, obnoxiously bright orange one with the Weasley W on the chest, your uniform. A bit of public embarrassment to go along with the forced nicety that you had to participate in while doing the job. You straightened yourself to better speak to the person - a woman in her forties who most definitely wasn’t the regular clientele for the shop.

“Yes?” You said, your voice bright in a very forced way, your fake smile continuing to beam toward her as she responded with a grin.

“My son absolutely loves this sort of stuff, and I was wondering if this would be a good gift for his birthday?” She asked, gesturing toward a large fireworks display behind her.

Your eyes wandered toward the obligatory ‘must be at least sixteen years old to purchase’ sign that the twins had put on the fireworks display. One that Hermione had been down their throats about adding after multiple of her first and second year students had nearly taken fingers off from lighting the fireworks and then holding onto them as they exploded, despite the clear instructions on the packaging.

“How old is your son?” You asked, trying to sound politely curious rather than cautious. You knew better than to scare away a potential customer.

“He’s ten. About to turn eleven. I wanted to get him something for his big day.” She said, clearly beaming with pride.

“Those are a bit, uh… advanced.” You said, choosing your words very carefully. “I think I know something much better for someone his age.”

You put a gentle hand on her shoulder and guided her over to a section of products that the twins had recently come out with - animal themed masks with animated, moving features that made genuine, loud animal sounds when the wearer put them on. They were a big hit with younger kids, especially for sneaking up behind people and scaring them with a loud sound. Even if you found the display to be loud and annoying, you did have to admit that it was adorable to see smaller kids put the masks on and get so excited to become their favourite animal.

“Morph-O-Masks.” You said, motioning toward the display with an outstretched, showy arm that felt far too familiar of your red-haired bosses. They were rubbing off on you in a painfully obvious way. “They make genuine animal sounds, have moving tongues and ears, and we just released a Hungarian Horntail-”

“Oh my little Gareth would love this one,”

The woman said, clearly excited, picking up the classic lion mask with the large, furry mane and the mouth that opened wide to let out a loud, realistic roar.

“He’s been hoping to get into Gryffindor, just like his father. I didn’t go to Hogwarts myself. I’m American, you see, so I went to Salem. But I moved here when my Walter proposed. And we had sweet little Gareth a few months later. Fat little baby, he was-”

“That is our best seller,” You commented with a nod, trying to gently cut off the woman’s rambling.

“Thank you so much, dear.” The woman thanked you, and much to your internal annoyance - she then pulled you in for a tight hug.

You rolled your eyes sharply over her shoulder, your fake smile dropping into a harsh scowl where she couldn’t see, and you were simply thankful when the hug lasted no more than a three count (because you most definitely were counting in your head). When she pulled away, you directed her to the cash register where Fred was waiting and got back to stocking the yo-yos.

Your thankfulness quickly ended the moment you turned around and found the other twin waiting for you. George was lingering behind you, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“‘That’s our best seller’,” He repeated your words, mocking you in a girlish tone that did not at all sound like you.

“Shut up,” You griped, rolling your eyes again, shoving your hands sharply into the pockets of your apron in order to resist the urge to hit him. You had to force yourself to remember that it wasn’t your school days anymore, and you couldn’t afford to lose your job as much as you could afford to lose a few house points over your petty squabbling.

“No, really, that was great.” He continued on, still grinning with an intense satisfaction - it made you want to slap him. Not because you didn’t like to see him smiling, but because it felt like he was mocking you. “You’re finally settling into the job now, eh?”

“It’s work,” You shrugged, eager to end the conversation.

You attempted to move around him to get back to unpacking the yo-yos - but with the isles cramped so tightly together and with his body so stupidly broad, he easily blocked your way as he leaned in closer, forcing you to take a step back as he moved to grab something off the Morph-O-Mask display.

You hated that you caught a whiff of his cologne along the way, during the moment that you were a bit too close to him as he moved toward the display and you couldn’t move away fast enough. The scent was far too strong, a cedarwood and lavender that you hated, and even so, his hard day’s work was causing the slightest bit of sweat to seep through - it was truly awful.

(That’s what you told yourself, anyway.)

“I see you still haven’t sold any of the serpents yet.” He chimed, holding up a scaly bright green serpent mask from the display. “If this was a house war, I would say that Gryffindor is winning,”

You knew that it was no coincidence that the original line of masks had consisted of a golden yellow lion, a green serpent, a bronze eagle, and a black and white badger (one that let out a very terrifying snarl and had rather creepy beady red eyes - that was the reason you hadn’t sold many of those, not due to any lack of loyalty from Hufflepuffs). It wasn’t your fault that kids were more attracted to the ones that came in the secondary release - different types of dragons, a spider with snapping fangs and dozens of eyes, even the black cat that purred and flicked its ears sold out more often than the serpent.

“Did you consider the inherent bias?” You posed, tilting your head at him. “This is a shop owned by two Gryffindors, therefore you are bound to have more Gryffindor customers - especially due to the bias of your grassroots marketing back at Hogwarts, which only took place primarily within Gryffindor Tower,”

George’s face knit with intense thought as you explained this, and you were glad that for once, he was pensive and taking in your words, rather than cutting you off with some kind of joke.

“And even unconsciously, you put more care and thought into the design of the lion mask, so it did turn out to be the best one,” You hated to admit it, but it was true.

Between the quality of the fur and the intense beauty of the eyes - the way it raised its mouth and let out the deep intimidating roar - it was beautiful.

“And it’s the one you have used primarily for marketing,” You pointed to the front window, where the lion mask was on a stand advertising the new product. “It’s like you set up the serpent to fail. And then you blame it on a poor stock girl for not shilling it hard enough,”

You ground intense sarcasm into your final words, taking the green mask from his hands and tossing it back onto the shelf with the others, finally skirting around him as he stood there shocked into silence. He was genuinely impressed by the amount of thought you had put into it. He finally snapped out of his shock by the time you had knelt back down beside the box of yo-yos, continuing to neatly stock the shelf with them.

“Well, perhaps next time we should consult a Slytherin for further research and development,” He said, giving you a grin.

“Let me know when you find one who’s willing to donate her time,” You replied, brisk and cool, grabbing the finally empty cardboard box from the yo-yos and shuffling back to the storage room, thankful to have an excuse to finally flee away from George and escape the conversation.

You were behind the thick wood of the storage room door by the time that George wandered over to the front counter.

“That was smooth.” Fred breathed out, entirely sarcastic.

“Oi, that was the longest we’ve ever gone without her insulting me. I am making progress.” George replied.

“Yeah, at this point, you’ll be going on your first date in your fifties and be married by the time I have grandchildren,” Fred joked.

“You don’t even know if Angelina wants kids,” George prodded, eager to navigate around the subject of his pathetic crush.

“Yeah, but at least I know she wants me. At least I’m not hung up on some stone cold Slytherin bit-”

“Hey!” George chastised, knowing that he would have easily hurled that kind of language at you during your school days, understanding why Fred rolled his eyes. “Maybe I like cold.”

“Then go stick your cock in the ice box,” Fred sighed. “Maybe it’ll help you get over this nonsense so you can actually pick someone who’s good for you.”

George didn’t say anything further, not daring to voice the words to a brother who just couldn’t understand. There was no one else for him, no one else who lived in his heart - no one else but you.

...

NOTE - This is just a small preview of a longer fic that will come out later. If you want to see the full fic when it comes out, go and follow my writing blog, or follow me here, as I will reblog the fic here when it's posed.

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