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just-some-random-blogger · 2 days ago

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WHAT DO YOU MEAN LIGHT ANGST? WHAT DO YOU MEAN???? IM SO??? WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHATS HAPPENING? WHAT DO YOU MEAN????

I just know shits about to go down at the fucking quidditch match I just know it I know it. As for the angst.... Thus far light work, no reaction.............. I'm a bit............ Sus......... 😒😒😒😒😒😒😒 Where's the angst. Where's the angst. *CLANKS PANS* SHOW YOURSELF RAT 🫵 IM GETTING NERVOUS

I started reading this the day I got a notification but I was so tired 😫💔 and I was hating every moment of it so I just relaxed. I'm glad I did because I LOVEEE THISSSSS. Imagine if I walked away hating this cos I was so tired. Fuck off 🙄✋

You'd been homeschooled your entire life due to your father's protective nature, but with Draco being 16, he felt you'd have adequate enough protection.

❓ what... Why would she need protection? And from her younger brother????????? I fear the not knowing the lore is showing your honor 😬 IMMA JUST ROLL WITH IT YES YES I REMEMBER THESE GROWN ASS ADULTS WERE BEEFING WITH KIDS FOR SOME FUCKING REASON?????? HISS HISS VOLDEMORT OR WHATEVER THE FUCK

Finally, you'd get to be around people that weren't Death Eaters twice your age, or your little brother. You loved Draco, but come on. A girl's gotta eat.

HAHAAHAHAHHAAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAAHHAH

SHE REALLY SAID IM NOT HERE FOR EDUCATION IM HERE FOR DICK AHAHHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH

You wanted desperately to ride the train with Draco, but your father insisted you be transported separately to minimize the scene you’re appearance would cause.

❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓❓ WHY WOULDNT PEOPLE BE SCARED OF HER?? WHY WOUKD SHE BE A CELEBRITY HELPPPPPPO I DONT KNOWWWWWWW HAHAHAHAAHAHA

You weren’t sure when it happened, but at some point your little brother grew like a weed and now stood a head taller than you.

😔 I know it all too well 👎 loathe

You swore you heard McGonagall curse under her breath, and Draco’s arm tightened around yours.

DKDJJDJDN NOT YOU GETTINF MCGONAGALL TO CURSE BRUHHHH

Suddenly, he was no longer Draco, but Lucius, [...]

My poor draco boy ):

[...] and the girl you immediately recognized as Granger. Or so Draco called her, faux venom on his tongue.

GIRLIE IS A GIRLS GIRL TRUTHER SHE KNOWSSSSSSS UGHHHHH EVEN I WAS LIKE BRUHHH DRACOS RIGHT THEREEEE HERMIONE AND DRACO WERE ALWAYS END GAME JUST LIKE KATARA AND ZUKO YALL ARE JUST WEAKKKKKKK ASSS RATS

What a thrill to finally be seen.

It girl. Light work no reaction

And Lucius made a point of telling Arthur shortly after the decision was made, something about ‘Keep those trouble-making twins away from my daughter.’

????? Why is Lucius talking to Arthur what is happening???? Not the too good for everyone talking to the quote unquote dirt poor rats WHAT IS THIS???? DJDJJDJSJSJSJ HAHAHAHAHAA it's chill it's fine the less I know the better

[...] skipping over his twin beside him. His eyes were different, molten amber and sweet like honey, his hair like phoenix feathers, lips slightly parted like he was staring at a Great Wonder, but instead he was staring at you. Your heart gave an excited flutter.

Skipping over his twin is crazyyy work HAHAHAHAHHA THEY HAVE THE SAME FACE HAHAAHAHAH except I agree Georgie is just so much yummier 😋 SORRY GRED!!! The way you describe him is BEAUTIFUL

You were beautiful, unfairly so. Which of course you were, you’re a Malfoy for Merlin’s sake. And George found that he couldn’t look away.

I feel you george cos I mean malfoys

George watched your eyes skip over Dean, then Seamus, then Hermoine, Harry, Ron—until your eyes locked on his. The air was sucked from the room, his heart hammering like a cornered hare as your gaze inexplicably held his.

DO THEY KNOW EACH OTHER TOO????? WHAT IS HAPPENING

“—pretty fit, eh?” Fred muttered in his ear. “Oi, look at ‘im,” Fred snickered. “George? Geooooorgie?”

Bruhhhhhhhhh not Fred comin to say she's hot only to find his twin geeking 😭😭😭

“Sorry, what’d ya’ say?” George asked, looking around at his friends. They all stared at him with a mix of amusement and abject horror.

At least he's honest damn HAHAH

“She’s a Malfoy,” Hermoine scolded.

🙄✋ and we all know how you feel about em stfu

“Yeah, so by definition, she’s hot,” Seamus replied.

❗🫵 GAY COS YOU THINK DRACO IS HOT

McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat, and it looked like you were speaking to it, no, flirting with it, your dark lashes fluttering.

IS SHE OKAY WHAT IS HAPPENING????? WITH THE SORTING HAT????? UHM OKAY THATS FINE LIVE YOUR TRUTH ALLIE GO HAT FUCKER

“Worse, probably,” George muttered, forcing himself to look away from you and back to his dinner. Suddenly, he found himself without an appetite.

????? I'm offended????? You don't know me. I don't even know what I originally had to say hold on

The world was at your feet, the lower classman wanted to be you, your classmates wanted to fuck you, and everyone else was terrified of you.

Crazy work. Your honor I dunno how to feel

It seemed your education under your father far surpassed that of your peers, in certain subjects at least.

EDUCATED BADDIEEEEEEEE LICKING HIS THROAT

And, you seemed to see your tall, red-headed boy everywhere you went. You'd learned that his name was George, a Weasley, Draco had sneered when he caught you ogling his tall, lean frame by the lake one afternoon.

🫵YOURS❓ at least this clarified they do nawt know each other. Also draco 🧯chill, your bp

You knew how your family felt about families like the Weasley's, but despite your father's best efforts, you couldn't bring yourself to hate someone for something as trivial as what ran through their veins.

..... But aren't Weasleys pure bloods too?????? At least it says on the website......... BESTIE JUST COS THEY'RE POOR DOESNT MEAN THAT MAKES THEM LESS PURE BLOODED ALSO THEYRE NOT FUCKING POOR MOLLY AND ARTHUR JUST HAVE 10000000000 CHILDREN

But when you entered the library and started pursuing the stacks for the Potions section, you found none other than George Weasley stretched out in a window seat, a book in his lap, his head lolled against the window as he snored.

I'm so sorry I would be taken to jail cos I was immediately 'licking his throat' GIRL STOPPPPPP

You tiptoed closer, taking in the state of him. He was dressed in trousers and a white button down, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his tie a little loose around his throat. His hair was messy, like he'd been running his fingers through it, and his socks were mismatched argyle.

Hi 🫦🥰 (dis my cat btw. My cat, ruby's, kitten, blossom)

You knew you shouldn't, but you found him extremely endearing, so soft-looking and cozy. Your fingers itched to straighten his tie, smooth his flaming hair.

You're better than me. I'd have licked his throat

“George,” you purred, but he didn't respond. “Geoooorge,” you tried again, poking him in the sternum. He turned his head, freckled nose scrunching. “George, darling. It's time to wake up.” You walked your fingers up his chest and tugged lightly on his red and gold tie.

❓❓❓❓❓GAGA HE DOESNT KNOW YOU DAFAQ GIRL PUT A LEASH ON THIS THING

“I, uh, yeah. Lucky me.” He swiped a hand through his hair. “Sleeping like an angel, hm?” He asked, regaining some of that cheeky charm you’d witnessed from afar over the last few weeks. A trait that only piqued your interest further.

Oh my gosh. Rizzler

“You looked awfully sweet to me,” you said, batting your lashes.

KESNN SHES INSUFFERABLE

“I don't believe that for a second, Malfoy.” His eyes skimmed over your face, down to your lips.

HEART PALPITATIONS I DO BITE

“Said the rattlesnake to the kitten,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

WHYS HE SO POETIC WHYD HE CALL HIMSELF KITTEN DO YOU MAYHAPS HAVE A DADDY KINK (SHES DADDY)

“You're one to talk, Mr. Weasley. Where’s your twin? Recently severed, are we?”

I LOVEEE HER 👏RE👏CENT👏LY👏SE👏VERED👏 UGHHH

George popped up, revealing his full height and sending you back a step, and your mouth filled with a saliva. The top of your head barely skimmed his collar bone, his limbs long and lean.

Like a tree. Like a lollipop. You understand

He was a delight. Handsome, sweet, clever. A loyal Gryffindor, the opposite of all the other pricks that threw themselves at you.

“Pretty good, yeah. Why? Need a tutor?”

🫦 a husband. ALSO YOURE GOOD A PO- oh no yeah he would be

“If you've got the time.” You shrugged. “I wouldn't want to keep you.”

🙄✋ girl bye shut the fuck up you fake ass piece of shit

You brushed the soft tail of your quill over you lips, mulling over your response. “Well, George. I suppose you are.”

...... WTF IS THE CONTEXT OF THIS I DONT REMEMEBR BUT I THINK I AGREE HAHAHHAHAHA LOL

“So tense, Georgie,” you murmured, reaching a hand up to squeeze at his flexed bicep. “I don't bite, remember?”

NOT HER BEING TOUCHY. SAMEEE. I LOVE GEORGIEEEE MY GEORGIEEEE

“That's a shame, here I thought I was just your Potions tutor.”

💔💔💔💔💔 your honor he's perfect. I should be married to him wtf is this bullshit

“Monday would be great.” You rose up onto your toes to peck his cheek. “See you then!” You tossed over your shoulder as you walked away, leaving him a flustered mess.

NO CUZZZ

THE WAY I WAS LIKE ID KISS HIM GOODBYE AND THEN SHE DID UGHHH WERE LIKE THIS 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞 OUR BRAINS ARE LIKE THIS 🤞

George's eyes softened, sensing your hurt, but he didn't back away from his claim. “I think your father has it out for my little brother and his best friends, and I won't put them in danger just because I want to kiss a girl.”

RIZZLER. also weird ass fuckers out for kids is crazyyyyy

His eyes searched your face and you saw the moment he decided he trusted you, eyes melting like honey. "I trust you, rattlesnake." A smirk broke through his serious expression. “Am I going to regret it?”

OOP ITS STARTING MDKDNDJDJDNJ WHY WOULD YOU SAY SHIT LIKE THIS BUT HES SO PRETTY IM GOING TO EAT HIM LOKE CHOCOLATE ECLAIRS

Relief ballooned in your chest. “In the best way,” you purred, bringing his pinky up your lips and brushing a kiss across his knuckle.

KSJJSSJSJS

With a final exhale, he crashed his mouth to yours, his lips supple and insistent, your toes instantly curling in your shoes. You opened up for him and he licked into your mouth with firm strokes, deliberate and claiming. He tasted like lemon drops and black tea, and you were desperate for more of it.

“Y/n,” he hummed, smiling at you. His lips were puffy and slicked with spit, his eyes sparkling.

(unrelated but Colbert is willldding nskssksjjs)

You leaned forward, licking a long stripe from the hollow of his throat, over his Adams apple, to the underside of his chin.

HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAMMMMSSSS HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY LIFEEE

“Shit.” His hands tightened on your waist, his head falling back to give you more access. You bit down, laving your tongue over his fevered skin, and his let out a low groan. “You little liar,” he gruffed, one of his hands coming up to tangle in your hair. “You do bite.”

BITING YOU FOREVER FOR LIFER MSJSJJSNSNSNJSKS LICKING BITING EATING DEVOURING

MY LOVEEEE THIS WAS A LOT IM SA IM LISTENING I DONT KNOW WHATS HAPPENING BUT GIRL AM I GLAD TO BE HERE RAHHH

A Madness Most Discreet | G.W.

feat. George Weasley x Malfoy!reader

summary: Draco's older sister arrives at Hogwarts for her final year of schooling, and sets her sights on a certain red-headed trickster.

cw: MDNI 18+, pov switching, making out and adult language, light angst (we're just getting started baby), pining, Malfoy family drama and blood prejudice, confident!reader

series navigation | masterlist | divider by @roseraris

Readers POV

No one knew what to expect when the Daily Prophet reported that you, the eldest child of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, would be attending Hogwarts for your final year of schooling.

You'd been homeschooled your entire life due to your father's protective nature, but with Draco being 16, he felt you'd have adequate enough protection. Not to mention, he had more pressing matters to attend to than your schooling.

You were beside yourself with excitement. Finally, you'd see the outside of the walls of Malfoy Manor. Finally, you'd get to be around people that weren't Death Eaters twice your age, or your little brother. You loved Draco, but come on. A girl's gotta eat.

Draco and Professor McGonagall led you through the ancient corridors to the Great Hall, every portraits eye trained on you. The newcomer, the subject of many whispered conversations that passed by them less than an hour prior. It seemed even the castle itself was buzzing about your arrival.

You wanted desperately to ride the train with Draco, but your father insisted you be transported separately to minimize the scene you’re appearance would cause.

But you were not one for subtlety.

“I’m begging you to not make a scene,” Draco hissed in your ear, his Slytherin robes brushing your calves. You weren’t sure when it happened, but at some point your little brother grew like a weed and now stood a head taller than you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, D.” You looped your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. You were lying through your teeth, and he knew it.

“Seriously, y/n. There’s enough attention on us already.”

“Salazar’s tits, Draco! Would you relax? Everything will be fine.” The three of you reached the door to the Great Hall, closed firmly and unbelievably high.You swore you heard McGonagall curse under her breath, and Draco’s arm tightened around yours.

It seemed a scene would be made after all, and you fought the smile threatening to curve your lips.

“Ready, Malfoys?” McGonagall asked, turning to look over you both. The look in her eyes, almost pitying, made you hold Draco's arm a bit tighter, smile faltering.

What are they so worried about?

“As we’ll ever be,” Draco sighed.

McGonagall pushed open the doors, revealing the massive dining hall. Every table was filled with students, piles and piles of food over every surface, and more travelling on levitating trays around the room. Candles floated from the ceiling, the night sky clear and shining with stars.

Every head swiveled towards you, and you watched Draco’s demeanor change instantly. Suddenly, he was no longer Draco, but Lucius, and your stomach curdled, souring your excitement over a grand entrance.

Draco pulled you even closer to his side, casting a warning sneer to every eye that lingered too long while you walked towards Albus Dumbledore on the dais.

Your eyes ping-ponged from student to student, taking in the people you’d spend the next eight months with. You fought to keep your face neutral, an elegant mask of in difference like you'd been taught, but your heart pounded with excitement in your chest.

What a thrill to finally be seen.

The Gryffindor table was on your right, the maroon-clad students sizing you up with open disdain, but even that couldn't dampen the thrill tingling under your skin.

You spotted Harry Potter towards the center of the impossibly long table, flanked by some red-headed boy, Weasley, you surmised, and the girl you immediately recognized as Granger. Or so Draco called her, faux venom on his tongue.

His eyes flicked to her as well, and you suppressed the snicker that bubbled on your tongue. Despite your sheltered upbringing, you knew infatuation when you saw it.

You looked back towards the group, all of their eyes trained on you. But, your gaze snagged on one of them in particular, skipping over his twin beside him. His eyes were different, molten amber and sweet like honey, his hair like phoenix feathers, lips slightly parted like he was staring at a Great Wonder, but instead he was staring at you. Your heart gave an excited flutter.

Oh, there you are, a voice in the back of your mind whispered.

George's POV

Of course, George had heard that the eldest Malfoy was joining their class. Everyone had heard about your arrival. And Lucius made a point of telling Arthur shortly after the decision was made, something about ‘Keep those trouble-making twins away from my daughter.’

But, when the doors opened to the Great Hall and you entered on Draco’s arm, George had been stunned silent anyways.

You were beautiful, unfairly so. Which of course you were, you’re a Malfoy for Merlin’s sake. And George found that he couldn’t look away.

As you walked towards Professor Dumbledore, you scanned the tables, a curious glint in your gaze betraying your disinterested expression. George watched your eyes skip over Dean, then Seamus, then Hermoine, Harry, Ron—until your eyes locked on his. The air was sucked from the room, his heart hammering like a cornered hare as your gaze inexplicably held his.

Even as you continued to walk by, your eyes remained locked together, your head turning just slightly. A smirk sharpened your angelic face, and George’s jaw went slack. But then Draco gave you a nudge and you turned forward, a slight skip in your step.

“—pretty fit, eh?” Fred muttered in his ear. “Oi, look at ‘im,” Fred snickered. “George? Geooooorgie?”

Ron snapped his fingers in front of his face and George jolted back to reality. “Merlin, mate. Earth to George.”

“Sorry, what’d ya’ say?” George asked, looking around at his friends. They all stared at him with a mix of amusement and abject horror.

“Said she’s pretty fit,” Fred chuckled, bumping his shoulder.

“She’s a Malfoy,” Hermoine scolded.

“Yeah, so by definition, she’s hot,” Seamus replied.

“Exactly—”

George tuned them out as you were lead up to the stage, the Sorting Hat waiting on a stool to your right. Dumbledore was speaking, but George tuned him out as well, too fixated on the arrogant slant of your smile, the mischief shining from your eyes.

You had trouble written all over you.

McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat, and it looked like you were speaking to it, no, flirting with it, your dark lashes fluttering.

“What is she saying to it?” Harry asked, leaning forward.

McGonagall placed it on your head, and the hat gave a great laugh, rendering the hall silent. “What a mind you have, girl. Clever, cunning, mischievous—a troublesome combination indeed. Seems even a Malfoy can be more than they appear. But even still—” The room held it’s breath, and Draco looked like he might keel over from stress, even paler than usual. “Slytherin!” The hat cried, and Draco exhaled, shaking his head at the dramatic pout on your face.

Saints, that pout. George wanted to sink his teeth into it.

“You think she’s going to be as bad as him?” Ginny asked, watching as Draco escorted you down the stairs and over to the roaring Slytherin table. People were throwing themselves out of their seats to make room for you, and you basked in the attention like a benevolent queen returned to her kingdom.

“Worse, probably,” George muttered, forcing himself to look away from you and back to his dinner. Suddenly, he found himself without an appetite.

Reader's POV

Your first three weeks at Hogwarts had been a whirlwind of introductions, lectures, and parties. The world was at your feet, the lower classman wanted to be you, your classmates wanted to fuck you, and everyone else was terrified of you. You never had to wait for a drink, or a meal, and someone was always willing to do your assignments for you, not that you needed it.

It seemed your education under your father far surpassed that of your peers, in certain subjects at least. You could out cast them all with ease, and were looking forward to when dueling would begin.

An opportunity to speak to George hadn't presented itself until you'd escaped to the library one evening. The attention you initially craved was starting to border on suffocating, and you wanted a few hours of quiet to yourself.

It was a lesson your mother had taught you. You can withstand anything so long as you hold onto yourself.

You knew you shouldn't, but you found him extremely endearing, so soft-looking and cozy. Your fingers itched to straighten his tie, smooth his flaming hair.

Instead you lifted the book from his lap and read the cover. “Pyromancy and Magical Combustion: A Spellcaster’s Guide”

George stirred suddenly, his hands flexing around empty air.

You considered backing off and leaving him to rest, but where the fun in that?

“Hm?” He mumbled, brown lashes fluttering open to reveal his sleep-trodden, amber eyes. They locked on your face, widening for a second before he jolted upright. “Y/n? Merlin, where the fuck—”

“It’s alright, love,” you shushed him, using deft fingers to straighten his tie and fix his collar. “You're in the library, sleeping like an angel. Lucky it was me that found you and not Pince.” You glanced up at him, finding his jaw a little slack, his eyes round as he stared at you in shock.

You always were a little too bold for your own good. Reckless in the pursuit of what you wanted.

“You looked awfully sweet to me,” you said, batting your lashes.

“Said the rattlesnake to the kitten,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

“Rattlesnake?” You scoffed, feigning hurt with a hand over your heart. “I don't bite!”

“I don't believe that for a second, Malfoy.” His eyes skimmed over your face, down to your lips.

You flashed said fangs, and he smiled back.

“Why are you in the library?” He asked, glancing over your shoulder. “Alone? I haven't seen you without Draco or one of his goons since you arrived.”

You rolled your eyes. Draco had assigned Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini to watch over you when he couldn't, and it took a concerted effort to evade them and come here. “Was getting a little tired of the entourage,” you admitted.

“A Malfoy? Tired of attention?” He tapped a finger on your forehead, featherlight. “I think you might be broken.”

“You're one to talk, Mr. Weasley. Where’s your twin? Recently severed, are we?”

He chuckled, the sound low and honey sweet. “Hufflepuff party.”

“And you didn't go, because…? You love pyromancy so much?” You held up the book, teasing him.

“Wasn't in the mood to socialize,” he said, shrugging a shoulder.

“Well, George, it seems we may have more in common than we realized.”

His eyes warmed. “Seems so.”

“Could you help me find the Potions section?” You asked, cocking a thumb over your shoulder. “Draco never gave me a tour…”

George popped up, revealing his full height and sending you back a step, and your mouth filled with a saliva. The top of your head barely skimmed his collar bone, his limbs long and lean.

He offered you his elbow. “Right this way, Ms. Malfoy.”

You rested your hand on his bicep, the burgeoning heat between you flaring brightly at even the smallest contact, and he lead you through the stacks.

He was warm and steady beside you, his cologne fresh and clean smelling, his muscles flexing slightly as he steered you. Butterflies stirred in your stomach, pleased that your instinct when you spotted him had been correct.

He was a delight. Handsome, sweet, clever. A loyal Gryffindor, the opposite of all the other pricks that threw themselves at you.

When you arrived at the clearly labeled Potions section, you turned to face him. “You’re in my Potions class, right? Are you any good?” You asked, wanting to delay his departure.

“Pretty good, yeah. Why? Need a tutor?” He quirked an eyebrow, his voice coming out a little too fast to be ready as anything but eager.

“If you've got the time.” You shrugged. “I wouldn't want to keep you.”

“Nonsense. I'm happy to be of service,” he said, winking at you, sending a fizz of desire pulsing through your blood.

George gathered the books you needed and led you to a secluded table at the back of the library, recognizing the risk of anyone seeing the two of you together, even doing something as simple as studying.

“So, what's the trouble with Potions?” He asked once you were settled in, books splayed around the table.

“My father didn't see the value in it, and it's not like we have a laboratory in the Manor,” you said, dipping your quill in your ink.

“So you were homeschooled your entire life?” George folded his arms against the table, leaning a bit closer. “Why?”

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “My father had his reasons.” It was a practiced answer, a safe one, and it tasted bitter on your tongue. “He thought it wasn't safe,” you added, wanting to assuage the guilty feeling.

“Not safe?” George scoffed. “Hogwarts is the safest place in the world.

“Depends on who your enemies are,” you said, finally meeting his eyes.

“And who are you enemies?” He asked, sitting back on his chair.

You brushed the soft tail of your quill over you lips, mulling over your response. “Well, George. I suppose you are.”

“That's a shame, here I thought I was just your Potions tutor.”

You snorted, caught off guard by his joking. “Should be fine, as long as we aren't friends,” you chuckled.

“Definitely not friends.” He smiled. “Now, the thing about Beezors…”

George's POV

George watched you pour over your notes, brow furrowed slightly in concentration, and you did that god-forsaken fucking thing with your quill again.

Dragged the feather over your lips with the barest touch, the movement unconscious, and it made his heart seize every single fucking time.

He could hardly believe he was sitting across from you, walking through the curriculum you needed for the first Potions exam in two weeks. You'd missed a lot being homeschooled, but we're clearly incredibly bright, and you picked everything up with ease that rivaled Hermione.

He'd been fascinated by you from the moment you walked into the Great Hall, and managed to snag his eye every time you entered a room there after. You occupied his mind too, so much so he was already behind in Charms, but he wasn't even quite ready to admit that to himself yet.

You were a Malfoy, after all. It didn't matter that you were interesting, or clever, or beautiful. You were a Malfoy. End of story.

He should get up and walk away right now.

What right did you have asking him for help? You had everything. And you were smart enough to do this on your own. You didn't need him. And he shouldn't want you.

Oh, Merlin. And he didn't want you….right?

He couldn't. He barely knew you beyond your reputation and the whispers he'd gathered in the halls, but it felt like he did. Like he's known you for ages, the quiet between you comfortable despite his racing thoughts.

But no, surely not. He didn't want you. Nope.

You dragged you quill against your lips again, sighing softly, and he nearly melted to the floor like a lit candle.

Fuck. He wanted you.

“George?” You called, waving a hand in front of his face, and he jolted back to the present. “Dozing off again?” You teased, voice sweet as treacle.

“No, was just, ah, trying to remember what we covered fourth year,” he said, rubbing the back of his head and hoping you didn't catch the flush in his cheeks.

But based on the twinkle in your eye, you certainly did.

“Maybe we can cover it tomorrow?” You asked, closing your book and setting down your quill. “I'm not sure I can absorb anything else tonight—” a soft yawn punctuated your words, sweet as a lamb, and George had to look away so he didn't memorize the exact shade of your tongue.

Definitely don't meet up with her tomorrow. “Yeah, same spot?” He asked, gathering his things as well.

“It's a date.” You winked, and flitted between the stacks, disappearing from his sight.

George slumped back onto his seat, scrubbing a hand over his face.

When he showed up ten minutes early to the library the following day, he'd never felt more pathetic in his life.

All day, he told himself he wasn't going to go. That he was going to leave you hanging and end this before it got started. Whatever this was.

He was betraying his family by sitting in this chair, guilt churning and acrid in his gut. They would be so disappointed him. He could already hear his mother in his mind: you're a spineless fool.

And it was the truth. He'd lied to Fred and Ron about what he was doing, and snuck past Hermione and Harry who were studying by the entrance. He was lying to and hiding from the people he loved most, all for a Malfoy.

He was about to get up from his seat when you came breezing around the corner, a cauldron in your arms. He continued to rise but instead of fleeing, he took the cauldron from you with a chastising tsk.

“Stealing from Snape, are we, rattlesnake?” He set the cauldron on the table, turning back to you.

“I didn't steal it!” You argued.

He raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.

“I'm going to bring it back later.” You rolled your eyes and dumped your bag onto the table, potions and herbs rolling out. “How else am I supposed to learn about potions?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Merlin, you were adorable. Pink cheeked from carrying everything, your hair windswept, eyes shining with that rebellious light. He was helpless, drawn to it like a moth.

“Just don't blow my eyebrows off,” he grumbled.

“No promises,” you teased back.

The two of you toiled the rest of the evening away over the cauldron, successfully making two of the four potions Snape had covered this semester.

You stood shoulder to shoulder over the bubbling green liquid, and he glanced down at you, at the victorious little grin on your face, and he felt his insides twist.

He reached to grab a bundle of herbs on your right, and you turned to grab an ingredient on his left, and your bodies bumped together in the middle, faces nearly colliding.

“S-shit, sorry,” he said, pretending he couldn't smell the expensive perfume on your skin. Like it wasn't rotting his brain from the inside out.

“Sorry for what?” You asked, leaning the rest of the way to get your ingredient, apparently completely unbothered by your chest pressed up against his, your face brushing his shoulder.

“Uh, I—”

“So tense, Georgie,” you murmured, reaching a hand up to squeeze at his flexed bicep. “I don't bite, remember?”

Every scrap of attention zeroed in on your hand touching his arm, his heart thundering in his chest. Georgie. The nickname rattled around in his empty mind. Georgie. Georgie. Georgie.

“I'll try,” he rasped, clearing his throat.

An hour later and you finished the third Potion, the sun long ago set over the horizon. It wouldn't be long before Pince came looking for stragglers, and you'd be booted from the library.

George glanced over at you, your cheek propped against your palm, lashes fluttering as your lids slid closed. Something warm bloomed in his chest watching you doze, peaceful and untroubled, trusting him enough to let your guard down so completely.

As quietly as he could, he picked up his things and yours, and discarded the potion. Carefully, he tucked the cauldron behind one of the the shelves for your next study session so you wouldn't have to lug it back and forth, vowing to take the fall if Snape caught on.

“Rattlesnake,” he cooed, nudging your shoulder. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”

You groaned, nose wrinkling before you blinked open your eyes at him. A sleepy smile stretched across your face, and his knees turned to jelly. He wanted to kiss you so badly it stole his breath.

“Sorry, Georgie,” you mumbled, covering your mouth when you yawned.

“All good, love,” he replied, handing you your things. Shit, he cursed himself. Love had just rolled off his tongue, easy as breathing.

But you only smiled at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder and getting to your feet. “Thanks for your help,” you said. “Do you think you'll have time to meet next week?”

Quidditch matches started next week, eating into the little bit of free time he had. But he'd figure it out.

“Could probably meet Monday after practice, if you'd like,” he said, shouldering his own bag.

“Monday would be great.” You rose up onto your toes to peck his cheek. “See you then!” You tossed over your shoulder as you walked away, leaving him a flustered mess.

He rubbed his hand over his cheek, the place your lips brushed his skin still tingling, and sighed. How could he stay away from you? Why should he? Because of your last name?

It was the Malfoy’s job to be stuck up and judgemental, not his. And you seemed to be nothing like them…

Then, something occured to him. A thought so upsetting it punched the air out of his chest and he dropped back down onto his chair.

What if this was a trick?

What if this was a way for the Malfoy's to get close to his family? To get them to let their guards down? What if you were just a beautiful Trojan Horse?

He shook his head, trying to shake the dark thoughts loose. You couldn't be, not with those bright eyes and rebellious smile. He couldn't imagine you being so cruel. But then again…you were a Malfoy.

How could he know for sure?

He left the library with his head hung low, doubts swirling in his mind like a storm, making his stomach churn, but one stood clearer than the rest. Disruptive as a strike of lightning.

Was it worth the risk?

Reader's POV

Your connection with George deepened over those few study sessions, and it seemed he was just as into you as you were him. From the knocked together knees, to his fingers brushing against yours when he passed over an ingredient or book, to his eyes lingering on you over the cauldron, the signs were plentiful.

But Monday night, he'd been different.

He was acting strange the entire study session, watching you closely, giving clipped, one or two word answers. His shoulders seemed almost heavy, burdened.

At first, you chalked it up to him being tired after practice, but instinctively, you knew it had something to do with you.

Unable to bear it any longer, you turned to him after shelving your books. “Is something wrong, George?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

He froze in place, refusing to meet your eyes. Then, something seemed to give way in his expression, a loaded sigh loosing from his chest. “I'm not sure we should keep doing this,” he admitted, sounding almost pained. “Your family would have a conniption, as would mine.”

You let your arms fall to your sides. It was only a matter of time before this came up, you supposed. But, you were prepared for it. “And?” You asked, risking a step closer. “I'm not sure about you…” you placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart race, his muscles tense under your touch. But he didn't pull away. “But I make my own decisions.”

He placed his hand over yours. “You could have anyone you want. So, why me? What's in it for you?”

You recoiled slightly, removing your hand from him and taking a step back. “You think I have some ulterior motive.” It wasn't a question, nor was it a shock. Everyone always assumed you did everything with malicious intent. You just thought maybe George saw you differently.

Your heart gave a jilted pang, confusion making your brows furrow. You knew he was being completely honest. He wanted to kiss you, but he was afraid of what the consequences might be. Consequences you hadn't even really considered.

George had every reason to be skeptical of you. But your only ulterior motive was getting closer to him, and maybe getting under your father's skin a little should he ever find out.

“I don't have an ulterior motive, George. Nor do I take orders from anyone, least of all my father. I have no ill will towards your family, and I'm sorry that mine has treated you all so poorly.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Swear it,” he said, holding up his pinky.

You wrapped your pinky around his. “I swear.”

Relief ballooned in your chest. “In the best way,” you purred, bringing his pinky up your lips and brushing a kiss across his knuckle.

His pupils dilated, breath hitching in his chest. Then you were moving, his body pressing you backwards against the bookshelf, dropping your pinky to brace your hips with both hands.

“You're awfully confident,” he whispered in your ear, making your stomach flutter with anticipation.

You hadn't felt this excited in far too long, his touch, his voice as tempting as the finest wine.

“Are you going to find out why? Or keep prattling on?”

Every other kiss you'd had felt lifeless and disappointing, empty and wet in the worst way. But this, the fervid caress of his searching tongue, felt like wildfire: burning, consuming, ravenous.

“George,” you gasped when his lips traveled down your neck, the tip of his nose a cold contrast to the heat of his mouth.

He nipped at your pulse, sucking the skin between his teeth to leave a mark.

“George!” You giggled, pulling on his hair to stop him.

“Y/n,” he hummed, smiling at you. His lips were puffy and slicked with spit, his eyes sparkling.

Two could play at that game.

You leaned forward, licking a long stripe from the hollow of his throat, over his Adams apple, to the underside of his chin.

You giggled, lapping at the light purple mark you left behind. “I'm not sorry.”

He tipped your head back and reconnected your lips, teasing and light. “You have no reason to be. Bite me all you like, rattlesnake,” he murmured between unhurried pecks.

“Careful what you ask for.” You caught his lower lip between your teeth and tugged gently, earning another groan, before kissing him a final time, soft and lingering.

Hearing the distant chime of the bell tower, you finally broke apart. Curfew. Pince would be around any second.

You brushed your nose against his. “I have to get back to the common room,” you sighed.

“’Course. Wouldn't dream of keeping you from your beauty sleep.” He brought your knuckles to his lips, kissing them lightly. “See you at the match tomorrow?”

You nodded, pulling your still tingling lower lip between your teeth. “Absolutely. I’ll be in green.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled, pretending to wince. “I'll have you in red soon enough.” He released your hand and walked backwards out of the aisle, his eyes trained on you until he was forced to turn the corner, his hand sticking out to wave a final goodbye as he disappeared.

You placed a hand over your thundering heart, a little stunned by your bodies intense reaction him.

What in Salazar's name has you gotten yourself into?

George's POV

George left the library achingly hard and shook to his core, the blood that hadn't traveled south roaring in his ears.

That was the singularly most earth-shattering kiss of his life. And it was with the absolute last person he should be kissing.

George wasn't the type to get physical so quickly after meeting someone, but you were irresistible. And seemed to want him as badly as he wanted you, a fact he struggled to get his head around.

And even though he knew he should, he couldn't bring himself to regret a second of it. In fact, he was already anxiously awaiting the match tomorrow, debating whether or not he could squeeze in some extra practice at dawn while he walked back to his dorm.

As soon as he opened the door, he found his brother, Ron, Harry, Seamus, and Neville sitting up in their beds, and stopped short.

“Hey George!” Harry called, waving.

“What’s the matter with you?” Fred asked, clocking his trepidation immediately.

George had to fight to urge to clap a hand over the mark you’d left on his neck. Would they smell your perfume on his skin?

“Nothing? Why?” He asked, heading towards his trunk.

Fred eyed him suspiciously. “Where have you been?”

“Library,” George answered, a little too quick.

Fred studied him a moment longer, then snapped his fingers, a huge grin on his face. “You were with a girl!”

The rest of the boys oooooh’d, and George felt his cheeks heat.

“Yeah, right. You know me, drowning in babes,” he argued, throwing a towel and his pajamas over his shoulder. “I'm going to take a shower.”

“Ah, so just a snog, then?” Seamus teased.

George flipped them off and left for the showers, praying they forget about it by the time he got back.

Reader's POV

“Where the fuck have you been?” Draco snapped, rounding on you as soon as you stepped back into the Slytherin common room.

“Places,” you reply, kissing his cheek before strolling by.

He caught your wrist, tugging you back to him. “Y/n…”

“Draco…” You rolled your eyes. “I was in the library, relax.” You pull away from him and walk towards the girls dormitory, Draco on your heels.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time there,” he accused, an edge of suspicion in his voice. “I would have gone with you, or Blaise or Pansy—”

“I wanted to go alone,” you snapped, stopping so suddenly he bumped into you. A hush fell over the common room. “I don't need a fucking body guard, Draco. You need to back off.”

Draco's nostrils flared, his eyes narrowing. “Stop it,” he hissed. “We can talk about this in private.”

“Why? Is your ‘bad guy' reputation so fragile?”

His jaw flexed, and you could tell your words stung, hurt flickering across his eyes.

You sighed. “D, I can take care of myself,” you murmured.

“But if something happened to you…” his voice softened, trailing off.

“Let me have this,” you asked, taking his hand in both of yours. “Please. I've never had any freedom.”

He squeezed your hands. “I know, I know. Just…let me know where you are, at least? Don't just keep disappearing—what is that?” His eyes hardened, lowering to your neck.

You fought to hold your composure. “What? Oh, the burn? I bumped it with my curling iron this afternoon.” You grazed your fingers over the mark George had left, a flurry of butterflies kicking up in your stomach.

Draco dropped your hand, and guilt soured your fuzzy feelings.

“Who is it?” He growled.

“Draco—”

“You think I can't tell when you're lying?” He grabbed you and lead you into a quieter part of the common room, shadowed from onlookers. “Who was it, y/n?”

You glared daggers at him, squaring your shoulders. “I suggest you mind your own business, or we will have a fucking problem. I will not hesitate to dismantle every brick of this bullshit castle you've built. Clear?”

His jaw ticked, eyes blazing. “This is not a fucking game,” he said after a tense moment of silence.

“Just trust me, okay? I’m fine. We’re fine. Not everything is life and death.”

“Y/n, you aren't listening—”

“No, you aren't listening. We're safe here. And I have my brother to protect me from anything scary, yeah?” You reached up to pinch his cheek, and he scowled, swatting your hand away.

“I can't protect you if I don't know where you are,” he argued.

You sighed. “I'll try and tell you from now on, okay? But you can't be with me 24/7. You need to have a little faith in me.”

“It's not you that I doubt,” he grumbled, but you could tell that you'd won this round.

“Goodnight, Draco. And don't stay up too late, you've got a game tomorrow.” You poked him hard in the chest, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, sister.” He waved you off and you ascended the stairs to the girls dorm, leaving him to his friends, and you to toss and turn in your bed, dreaming of George.

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