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selfwriting-sugarquills · 4 years ago

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Say yes. (George Weasley x reader)

Description: George Weasley had asked you to marry him exactly 465 times since he and you started dating in your fifth year. He’d said it half-jokingly at first, then because you kept turning him down with a smirk as you insisted “someday, but not yet.” and then it had evolved to be a way of saying “I love you” and you’d established that it wasn’t the real one yet as long as you were in school, and that when he finally decided to ask you for real, you’d know: Champagne, fireworks and other romantic gestures were promised but when George loses his ear he decides to spend that final proposal a little differently than initially planned.

requested: nope

warnings: descriptions of blood, injuries, a little angst but mostly fluff.

word count: 3.7K

taglist: @schlongbottom @cardboardbenmazzello @unseensilver @mochamiilk

(gif isn’t mine)

“Marry me?”

“Oh, Merlin,” you facepalm, “It’s too early for this, George,”

“Come on!” he persists,

“You always ask me and the answer’s always going to be the same!” you’ve taken on an irritated tone but you’re grinning at him from across the breakfast table,

“But I don’t know that! What if you change your mind?” he asks and takes a bite of toast,

“Yeah ‘cause I’m likely to decide to get married in the middle of my sixth year, am I?” you steal the other piece of toast from his plate and bite into it. He lets you,

“Maybe? It could be kind of romantic: eloping and doing it in secret?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you earning a playful eye roll from you,

“No way. Your mother would murder you if she found out you’d eloped at sixteen, and I’m pretty sure my mum would be standing in line to get to me next,” you chuckle.

George Weasley had developed a habit of asking you to marry him since you first started dating. He’d first asked you when you were fifteen in Hogsmeade. You, in turn, had choked on your butterbeer and spluttered a panicked:

“WHAT?!”

George had laughed and answered: “You heard me,” and you hadn’t had the faintest idea if your relatively new boyfriend was being serious at all. He’d later admitted that no, he didn’t really think marrying you at the tender age of fifteen was a good idea but in his defence:

“I can still ask you now, and then wait to actually marry you!”

Which was true, but you sort of took the whole marriage thing seriously and so you’d developed a term for The Real One as an understanding that all his questions were not serious proposals and moreso a replacement for “I love you” or another set of endearing words, and that he’d let you know if he did ask The Real One. As the years pass by you’d become used to proposals being randomly thrown at you from the redhead you adored so much. In fact, you’d kept a tally and noted the most noteworthy ones in a small notebook:

#26 George asked me to marry him on a trip to the beach with my family and immediately got hit by a giant wave, suffice to say, I agreed to do it on the condition that he didn’t drown himself in an attempt to impress me.

#168 George learned yesterday that asking me to marry him while I’m hungover with my head in a toilet results in whatever I can grab nearest to me being tossed at him, possibly accompanied by a certain finger being presented to him.

#340 George successfully asked me to marry him during a quidditch match and because of his dashing looks and undeniable charm, not to mention his impressive sportsmanship and talent in the sheets, I said yes!

#341 George needs to learn that if he steals my notebook and forges me saying yes then I’ll never marry the git. ---> Oi, you promised not to say no :( - G Get over it, liar >:/ - Y/n

Now, at age 20, George had asked you a whopping 416 times to marry him, and you had yet to accept nor decline any of those proposals: you couldn’t say yes, because it wasn’t T.R.O (as you’d named it) and you couldn’t get yourself to say no because truth be told: you did want to marry him. A lot. But you figured it was better to wait, you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, so you’d let yourself be amused by your boyfriend’s antics for years, though now as you grew older, there was an air of anticipation behind each time he asked, not to mention that he’d stopped asking you as frequently. He liked throwing you off by asking you unexpectedly,

“You know, if you’re gonna ask me, for real that is,” You ask one night while your head is resting on his chest. You’re in his bed above the shop, the light from the moon illuminating your shapes,

“Yeah?” his chest vibrates when he speaks and you can’t stop the small, content smile that forms on your lips,

“Just so you know, I want a ring-” he cuts you off with a soft laugh,

“- and champagne! lots of it! no ring pops or asking me while we’re in the ocean; I want it to feel real,”

“Got it,” he chuckles, your head bobbing with his chest as it rises and falls, “anything else I can do for you, madam?”

“...Fireworks would be appreciated too, please.”

“Noted,” there’s a moment of domestic, blissful silence, “Y/n?”

“mhm?”

“I love you,”

“I love you too.”

You don’t discuss the proposal anymore for the time being. Things at the order pick up its pace as Harry’s seventeenth birthday approaches and suddenly,

“What’s going on?” You’re standing in the kitchen with a puzzled look on your face as the two identical young men hurriedly come into the apartment and disappear into their respective bedrooms where you follow George to see him change out of his work suit and into a different, purple one at a fast pace,

“Something’s come up with the order, we have to leave tonight,” Fred’s voice explains from his room, you give George a questioning look, he doesn’t meet your eyes,

“I’m also in the order, why wasn’t I told about this?” you ask, as George passes by you into the living room, his eyes fixated on his buttons on his sleeves. In your chest, your heartbeat anxiously speeds up while you wish George would just slow down for once and explain what is going on, though you know that slowing down isn’t exactly the twins’ expertise,

“You know Moody; always so secretive. He probably figured that telling everyone in the order the details would lead to the info leaking or something, don’t worry about it, love,” George flashes a quick reassuring smile at you but you’re already worried about it. In fact, you feel nothing but anxious about this whole situation.

“But what am I supposed to do? just sit here and wait while you go on some secret mission I know nothing about?” you ask while the twins find coats and begin putting them on. Finally, George faces you and quickly approaches you but you’re not calmed by this. A small flicker of anger ignites inside you as you realise that your boyfriend clearly doesn’t take this as seriously as you do, and then again why would he? he knows what’s happening you think to yourself. George gently cups your face in his hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead,

“It’s all going to be fine, I promise,” he says, caressing your cheeks, “tell you what: apparate to the burrow and I’ll meet you there, we’re supposed to go there anyway, alright?”

No, it’s not alright, what part of this is alright?!

“Yeah, alright then,” you say in defeat.

“That’s my girl!” George says and presses his lips to your forehead once more before walking over to his brother,

“Ready, Fred?” He says and Fred nods at him,

“Ready, George,” Fred replies with a grin,

“I’ll see you at the burrow, ok?” George turns to you and when you don’t reply with more than a solemn look, he adds, “Don’t worry.”

And then he’s gone. And you stand in the empty apartment, trying to process everything that just happened in the past ten minutes. Then you apparate to the burrow, landing outside the building. Molly must’ve seen you because the door opens before you’ve even reached the house and you’re more than happy to see her. You let yourself be swept into her embrace as she greets you with the same motherly fashion as she always did,

“I hope it’s not a problem. George sent me here,” you say as you tread inside, Molly closes the door behind you,

“Not at all, dear, I expected he would,” she says with a smile, “I was just about to make some tea, it always calms me on nights like these,” she says, already heading toward the kitchen,

“What do you mean?” You ask, your nerves beginning to gnaw at your insides again,

“Haven’t the boys told you anything?” Molly asks from the stove, you stand in the doorframe and shake your head, “something about the order and Moody but besides that, not much else,” you say,

“Just typical,” Molly tuts, “Oh well, I suppose there’s no reason not to tell you now,” she say and begins explaining the plan of moving Harry to the burrow, of disguising members of the order to look like Harry, the risks of the plan she doesn’t leave out and you don’t feel any better knowing that there’s a real danger of the plan going wrong.

Time passes. Ginny joins you in waiting, you small talk for a little but soon find yourselves too anxious to say anything other than worrying out loud if the order will arrive soon.

After an hour and a half, you’re pacing the living room, unable to sit still. According to Molly, they were supposed to have started showing up some forty minutes ago but when you look out over the dark landscape surrounding the burrow there’s nothing but softly swaying grass and a vast cloudy sky. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom though you don’t do anything other than stare at yourself in the mirror and try to calm yourself down. But you can’t stop thinking about the worst-case scenarios: George coming home hurt, or worse, not coming home at all. You splash water in your face in an attempt to drown out the voice of George telling you not to worry in your head. The words have been echoing in your head since you arrived at the burrow, and each time you find yourself trying to cling to the sound of his voice, remember exactly how it sounded, how his fingers felt on your face as he caressed it, the feeling on his lips on your forehead right before he left, you try to feel the warmth they’d left just in case-

“I think I see someone!” Ginny says and by the sound of the door being flung open you exit the bathroom and follow her and Molly out into the night where one giant figure and one smaller one appear from the tall grass, who you immediately recognise as Harry and Hagrid, both of whom are soaked and clearly shaken up,

“Where are the others?” Harry asks while Hagrid explains to Molly how they hadn’t stood a chance, the death eaters had been awaiting them,

“You’re the first ones back,” Ginny says with a grim expression, she doesn’t get any further though, as the unmistakable pop of apparition brings your attention further down the field,

“Quick!” you hear Lupin yell and when you see the bleeding person he’s carrying you speed up to meet them, Harry beats you to it though, which is good, because when the polyjuice potion wears off and George’s features become clearer you feel as if all the air has been punched out of you, your knees buckling under you for a moment in shock, before you hurriedly follow them inside the house, where Lupin and Harry lay George on the couch. You and Molly sit down beside him and while Lupin grabs Harry and questions him you don’t tear your eyes away from George. You can’t.

“Hi there, darling,” he croaks, his eyes half-open. You place your hand on his chest and wince when you find it’s sticky with blood,

“Hey there,” you say, your voice unsteady. You try not to look at the blood that’s trailing from his ear but against George’s pale skin, it’s difficult not to. You bunch up his shirt in your hand as you try to steady yourself. You feel sick, and it doesn’t take long for tears to find your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper, “it’s okay, Y/n,” his hand finds your cheek, as the first tear of many trickles down your face and you struggle to keep composed. You clench your jaw trying not to sob but you still let out a small broken one escape through your lips as you breathe out, as you place your hand on his, squeezing it tightly, you’re afraid. Afraid of him letting go. His eyes close and another sob burst through you. You only look up when you feel a hand on your back, and you find Fred’s concerned face, his hand moves to your shoulder, he gives it a quick squeeze,

“How’re you feeling, Georgie?” he asks, George swallows and for a moment you hold your breath, thinking he’s unconscious, but then his eyes open, just a little,

“Saint-like,” he says, to your surprise, a small smirk tugs at his mouth, you and Fred share a look,

“Come again?” Fred asks, looking pale with worry, the smile on George’s lips broadens,

“Saint-like,” he says, “I’m holey, Fred, I’m holey. Get it?” Georges’s hand leaves yours to gesture to his ear,

Fred’s cheeks gain a little colour as he shakes his head,

“Of all ear-related humour, you go for ‘I’m holey’? that’s pathetic,” Fred says, his smile mirroring his twin.

After a few moments Molly disappears to find some things to help mend George’s ear, and the order agrees to give him some privacy by moving into the kitchen, leaving you alone with the twins, Fred gets comfortable next to the couch, and you stay put, stroking George’s hair with a still-shaky hand.

“Don’t worry,” George says,

“You do realise that saying that over and over isn’t going to work, right?” You answer, brushing tufts of ginger hair away from his forehead,

“worth a try,” he replies, closing his eyes again a pained expression forming on his face and you know that he’ll most likely pull through but you can’t seem to let go of the ‘what if?’ resting in the back of your mind. Molly reappears with a bag of various remedies and ingredients, she picks out a sample of bottles, and then goes to find a cloth and some water,

“I would use magic,” She says, “but I think this is easier to control,” she wrings the cloth and both you and Fred eye it nervously,

“You gonna be ok?” You ask George when he opens his eyes at the sound of the water from the cloth dripping into the bowl beneath it. He swallows hard,

“Yeah, I think so,” he says, “It’s a bit of water, how bad could it be?” you try giving him an encouraging smile but you know that beneath it all you’re both aware that this isn’t going to be pleasant,

Molly gingerly touches the cloth to George’s ear and he winces, letting out a sharp hiss and his hold on your hand tightens, reminding you that your boyfriend, the former beater, is a lot stronger than you but you don’t ask him to let go, or say anything at all, your lips form a thin line as you watch him grimace and whimper with every stroke of the cloth against the cut. Molly apologies profusely and promises that she’s doing it as fast as she can, her eyes lined with tears as well. Fred grows pale when Molly wrings the cloth again, turning the water a bright vermillion and excuses himself,

the cut looks better after it’s rinsed and Molly gently applies some of the remedies she’s picked out, before asking your help in holding George, who’s close to unconscious again, while she bandages him,

“It’s not much,” she says in a shaky voice, “but it’ll do till tomorrow,”

“Do you think it’ll heal?” you ask, your voice is grainy and you now realise how dry your mouth is. Molly runs a hand over her son’s forehead,

“you can never know with dark magic, if it was cursed off we can’t know if there’ll be side effects,” she says, “we’ll just have to wait,” she sighs, watching George with glossy eyes. Then she picks up the water and turns to go,

“I’ll go clean up,” she says with a sniffle, leaving you alone in the living room with George. He looks a lot less frightening without the blood covering his neck and face, and with the bandage covering the ear, he looks almost normal, though he’s paler than you’ve ever seen him. You overhear Fred talk to Molly, who orders him to go upstairs and rest, you reckon he’s not doing well either, after a lot of arguing from Fred he complies. Molly comes in with a tearstained face and some blankets. Together you rearrange pillows and blankets, so you can lay next to George on the floor,

“We’ll have to leave the clothes on until tomorrow, as much as I’d like to change them,” Molly says, eyeing the bloody stains on the jacket and t-shirt he’s wearing, “oh well,” she says, “I think it’s best if we all get some sleep. You’ll be alright here, dear?” she asks,

“Yes, I think so,” you say, not sure you’ll be getting much sleep. You try to get comfortable next to George, holding his hand and laying down, staring at the ceiling. You quickly accept that sleep isn’t coming to you, and you sit up again, resting your head on your arm so that you’re almost laying next to George. It’s easier to relax when you can see him. See his chest rise and fall slowly. Hear his breathing. Feel it. Warm and soft, reminding you that he’s still here. Your eyes grow heavy and you’re nearly asleep when,

“Y/n?” your eyes open at the sound of his voice, you blink at him. His eyes are staring intently at you in the dim light,

“What?” you ask,

“Can I ask you something?”

you sit up,

“It’s just,” he begins, taking breaks in between his words, you wonder if anything Molly has given him has made him loopy, “I’ve been thinking about everything, and since I suppose I can say I’ve had a near death experience, it wouldn’t be right if it didn’t put some things into perspective,” he says, smiling at your puzzled expression,

“where are you going with-”

“will you marry me?”

“...what?” you stare at him,

“I had a whole thing planned but I think I’d rather do it now so I’ll never have to almost lose the opportunity to ask you for real again,” he says,

“George,” you say, awestruck “are you sure?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been,” he says in an almost unrecognisably serious tone, his eyes locked into yours,

You take a shaky breath, “ask me again.”

The same cheeky grin he’d always wear when he’d ask you appears on his face and you could cry because for the first time that night he looks like himself again,

“Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” he asks, taking both your hands in his, you don’t move to stop the warm tears that spill down your face, tasting them as you smile, nodding at him,

“yes, George Weasley, of course I’ll marry you,” you say, diving in to kiss him gently, his hand finds your face, his thumb wiping your tears away,

“Please don’t cry over me, Y/n,” he says, your faces still close, earning a half-sob half-chortle from you,

“I’m your bloody fiance now, I’ll cry however much I want over you,” you say, kissing him again.

“How many times did I ask?” he asks,

“I think that was the 417th time,” you reply, he pouts,

“Damn, my goal was a thousand,” he says with a smirk, “wait,” his eyes widen, “what am I supposed to ask you now?” he says. You allow yourself to laugh,

“you don’t have to ask me anything, thank you very much,”

“...Want to renew our vows?” he tries,

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind: I’m divorcing you,” you say, laying down beside him,

“hey! we’re not married yet,” he says,

“Then I’m divorcing you prematurely,” you say, “now get some sleep!”

***

Bill and Fleur’s wedding was wonderfully different from the way the rest of your lives were going. The war was pressing on with more and more shops in Diagon Alley closed down for an indefinite amount of time. Everywhere you went, people seemed anxious, awaiting something unknown, a sort of resolution to all the dread. In the middle of it all, a wedding had seemed misplaced but standing in the tent behind the burrow, seeing people actually laugh, dance and enjoy themselves, you felt more at ease than you had in months.

“Hey,” George appears next to you, handing you a glass of champagne,

“Hi,” you say, looking at Luna dancing with her father for a moment, you turn to George, “how’s the ear?” you ask, George didn’t talk about it much, insisting it was fine which didn’t stop you and Molly from fussing over him still,

“It’s okay,” He says, “If I’m honest, I hardly notice it anymore. Now I just want the bandages off,” he chuckles. You stand together, watching the crowd for a moment,

“Can I show you something?” he asks after sipping his drink,

“Right now?” your eyebrow lifts,

“Right now. Come on,” he nods towards the exit of the tent, extending his hand for you to take,

“What are we doing in your room?” you ask, a little winded the alcohol and from climbing the stairs,

“Sit down,” he gestures to his bed and heads to his dresser, rummaging through the third drawer down, “Where is it, I could’ve sworn- Oh! here it is!” he picks up a small object. He turns to you with a grin, “Now, I know that The Real One didn’t exactly go as planned, but I did have a whole thing planned, so,” he walks over to you and kneels down, opening the small object to reveal a stunning engagement ring, “I figured I owe you this,” he says,

“you got me a ring?” you say a little breathlessly, feeling ridicoulus when tears rim your eyes for what feels like the millionth time since George lost his ear,

“bought it with my first salary from the shop,” he replies with a sheepish smirk, “do you like it?”

“I love it, George,” you say, “really, it’s beautiful,”

“Want me to put it on you?”

“Duh!” you laugh,

George slips the ring onto your finger with ease and presses a kiss to your hand, then places soft kisses up your arm to your shoulder, your neck and finally your lips, his tongue swiping across your lips, deepening the kiss for a moment before you both break away with breathless laughter. He rests his forehead on yours, taking your hands in his, looking at the light shifting in the jewels in the ring,

“About bloody time we made it official, too,” he says with a sense of content finality, his hand cups your cheek, kissing you again, this time hungrier and you let him lower you onto his bed to celebrate your final engagement properly.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #weasley twins #Harry Potter #HP #fred weasley #george weasley headcanon

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

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just the girl

request from nonnie!!! “Hello gorgeous! I love your writing! Could I please get a George one where the reader is younger(like harry) and she is kind of shy but George loves her and flirt with her but she thinks he is just messing with her?”

word count: 4.4k

pairing: george x hufflepuff fem!reader

A/N: okay i strayed a biiiiit and didn’t make her like suuuuper shy but i definitely made her oblivious and i hope that’s okay?? also, i’ve had “just the girl” by the click five stuck in my head whilst writing this so that’s where the title idea/end dialogue come from lol

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am | send me a quick message if you’d like to be added darlings!

The only thing to ever distract George Weasley from his schoolwork has been pranking and mischief; it’s always been that way, ever since he was born, with his twin by his side. But now, he thinks, watching you across the Great Hall after not having seen you due to a very long summer holiday, everything else might just need to be put on the back burner.

How had he never noticed you in this light before? A thought crosses his mind now: he’s been far too preoccupied with creating types of chaotic mischief across the castle. Maybe he needs to rethink his priorities a bit. It’s not that he’s never thought about girls: hell, he thinks about them nearly all the time. But not like this. He’s never been so captivated in his entire life.

Your smile is lighting up nearly the entire Hall; how everyone at every table isn’t staring at you is beyond him. George can hardly help himself; his eyes are glued to you. His friends notice this and someone punches him in the arm, earning a sharp yell and a glare from him.

“Ow,” he says through gritted teeth after coming back to reality. He groans at what’s coming. He then turns to Fred, who’s laughing a bit, and says, “You’re a right git, you know that?”

“Oi, go over there and talk to her, would you?” Fred suggests, making the entire group of rowdy Gryffindors roar with laughter, “or at least quit the staring—you’re making yourself rather obvious, you know.”

George feels his throat tighten as he sinks into his seat; next to him, Ron is giggling quietly into his cup of porridge. “Go with the latter, mate—stop looking at her, would you? Merlin! You’re going to frighten the poor girl.”

He feels his heart begin to pound a bit harder against his ribcage; he hates feeling nervous—probably more than he hates sitting through Potions class. He swallows thickly, turns to his sister and says quietly, “Oi, Gin, you and Luna are friendly with Y/N, right?”

Ginny looks up from her bowl of cereal and nods her head before shooting a cheeky grin at her brother.

“You’ve spent quite some time with her before then, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” Ginny replies, taking a swig of her drink, “but so have you, you git. She hangs out with us all the time. You’ve known one another since your third year.”

George frowns. “Yeah, but.. I don’t know her nearly as well as you. Always sort of gravitates toward you, doesn’t she? She’s sort of.. turned off by my pranks a little bit.”

“Then stop the pranking,” Ginny winks.

George lets out a scoff. “Right. D’you not know me but at all?”

“It’s not that she’s turned off, George,” Ginny tells him and he feels himself relax a bit. She scoops up some more cheerios onto her spoon, “her life just doesn’t revolve around pranking people. She’s sort of shy. But I promise, she gets a rise out of your mischief.”

“She does?”

Ginny rolls her eyes as she entertains the idea that her brother might quite possibly be in love.

“Yeah, she does, so—talk to her then, would you?” Ginny tells her brother, taking a long swig of her drink. “She’s on the Hufflepuff team this year! New Chaser, she is. There, already have something to chat about other than pranking, alright?”

You? Quidditch? Girl of his dreams, you are. That aspect excites him. What he’s afraid of, he thinks of now, is trying to get you to open up to him. Maybe it won’t be as difficult as he thinks, considering you’ve known one another for quite some time now. A smile tugs at the edges of his lips when he watches your head fall back as you laugh—a laugh he can’t hear, but wants too more than anything else.

If there’s one thing George Weasley loves, it’s a challenge.

— -

George is finding it quite difficult to spend any time with you, much to his dismay. Not only are you in a different house, but you’re two years younger which means you’ve got absolutely no classes together. He reckons that Herbology wouldn’t be as boring if you were in class with him. He frowns at the thought.

So when he sees you rounding the bend in the corridor one day after emerging from an afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, he immediately seizes his chance for a chat.

“Oi, Georgie!” Fred calls as George leaves him, Ron, Harry and Neville in his dust, “where’re you off to, then?”

“Sorry boys,” George calls back, winking, “Have got a few things to take care of—meet you later in the common room.”

He leans against the wall and watches you, a dazed sort of grin grows on his face when he notices that smile again. He feels a pang in his heart when he thinks of just how long it’s taken him to really notice it.

You meet his gaze and clutch your books tighter into your chest; when you pass him, he ignores a few other Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws by your side, acting as if you’re the only two in the corridor. “Hey, beautiful.”

You roll your eyes and can’t help but smile. “Hi, George,” you reply sweetly, not stopping to hold a conversation. He’s quick on his feet, though, and follows you down the other end of the hallway. He feels poorly for you when he notices that you’re headed for the dungeons. “Good summer holiday?”

“Pretty good—happy to be back, though. And you?”

You ignore his question and wiggle your eyebrows at him. “Not getting into any trouble already, are we?”

“Not currently, dunno about later.. too early to tell,” he smiles a bit smugly, tugging on your arm and pulling you back, leaving your friends walking toward the dungeons without you. You turn around, now face to face with him, and he’s leaning casually against the wall, his arms folded across his chest.

“Better be careful—I hear Snape’s just dying to give out detentions. In a right foul mood, he is.. and it’s only the first week.”

“Shame you’re heading to Potions, then.”

“Would much rather be out on the pitch, mind you.”

“Oh yeah,” George replies, suddenly remembering what Ginny had told him, “how’s it feel then? Heard you’re one of the new Chasers this year. Heard you’re pretty wicked.”

“Yeah?” you raise your eyebrows and George can’t help but feel his insides constrict at your glistening eyes. “What else have you heard?”

He laughs a bit, running a hand through his messy hair. “That Gryffindor’s got a run for their money now.”

“Glad to hear my skills are being spoken about so highly amongst the houses.”

George is loving this; you’re a lot less shy than he remembers—nothing at all like you were when you two first met. Maybe more has changed over the summer that he doesn’t know about yet. His heart’s thundering at the thought. “Don’t think for a second we’re going to take it easy on you.”

There it is—that laugh he’s been dying to hear. He’s nearly putty in your hands at the sound of it. Luckily, though, George is pretty good at hiding his skittishness and replacing it with a flirtatious grin or banter. He bites down on his lip to keep from grinning like mad when you say, “Do your worst then, George.”

The bell rings suddenly, making you both jump, signaling five minutes until the beginning of the next lesson. You raise your eyebrows and nod toward the dungeons, “Better get going. Don’t want the wrath of Snape upon me.” You grin a bit and walk backwards down the empty corridors and George is nearly losing it at how bloody adorable you are, “See you later?”

“Yeah,” he says, confidence engulfing him, “see you.”

He can’t help but shake his head in admiration when he watches you turn back around, sling your arm behind your back and wiggle a few fingers at him in a wave as you vanish down the staircase.

— -

“Hey—what the bloody hell was that all about this afternoon? Thought you two were supposed to cause some type of diversion on the fifth floor corridors after lunch? You were nowhere to be seen!”

Ron’s face turns sour as his elder twin brothers just laugh at this. To him, Fred replies, “Think of our mischief as being on.. a semi-hiatus. Few days, tops.”

“Merlin,” Ginny mutters, looking down at her shoes, “what did you two do already?”

“We didn’t do anything,” Fred tells his sister. He leans back into the couch and relaxes. “Georgie here has some other things he needs to take care of first.”

Harry and Ron make obnoxious sounding kissing noises; Ginny, on the other hand, just rolls her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re actually going after her.”

George raises his hands in confusion. “You’re the one who told me to go and talk to her more.”

“I didn’t think you were actually serious!”

“Ah well—should pay more attention to your older brother, then, shouldn’t you?” George asks, looking rather smug. He takes a long swig of his tea before placing his feet up on the table in front of him. “Besides, she’s a lot less shy than you seem to remember, Gin.”

Ginny rolls her eyes again, mutters something that slightly resembles a whatever, you git, and turns back to the book she’s clutching very tightly in her hands.

“So,” Ron begins again, turning his attention toward the twins, “Few days, you say?”

“Yes,” the twins chorus together. Fred continues, “Really, though, we’re trying to steer clear of Snape for the time being—bloke seems to show up wherever we go, he’s in a right awful mood and I, for one, don’t feel like starting out the new year with a weekend full of detentions under my belt.”

Under her breath, Ginny mutters, “because that’s so different than every other year?” George playfully chucks a throw pillow at her, and is delighted to see her finally chuckle a bit.

“What’s the plan then, George?” Harry asks, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. “I reckon you’re going to take it easy on her now that she’s our opponent, yeah?”

The boys erupt in laughter, prompting Ginny to move to the other side of the common room to immerse herself in conversation with Hermione, Parvati, and Katie. To the group, George just replies, “Haven’t got a plan, really. Just going to try and wing it.”

— -

Harry lets out a huff, looking positively dreadful. He’s crouched down behind the twins at the entrance to the changing rooms and he says to the two of them, “This has got to be illegal, hasn’t it?”

“Nah—not illegal if we don’t get caught,” George winks, not taking his eyes off of the pitch.

“Relax, mate, it’s fine,” Fred says in a hushed whisper, “that’s why we’ve got the Invisibility Cloak. Merlin, Harry, it’s like you’ve never snuck out before.”

The twins laugh and Harry relaxes; sneaking out is nothing new to him.

They should be in the Great Hall, working on their assignments due for their lessons, but George had insisted on coming to spy on the competition. Fred nearly yelped at the idea; Harry needed some persuading. But honestly, George doesn’t care at all about the competition. He only cares about you.

He’s enamored at your Chasing skills—you’re a lot faster than he originally thought, getting the quaffle through the hoops each and every time. He’s feeling a bit nervous at how Gryffindor is going to bear with you and the other new Chaser and new Beater. It’s probably the best team Hufflepuff’s had in years.

“Eh, new Beater isn’t that good,” he hears Fred saying to him and Harry, but he’s not paying a lick of attention, “and they’ve still got the same Seeker as last year, and you know his weaknesses, Harry, so I reckon we should be alright.”

Everyone lands on the pitch with ease and heads right toward the changing rooms. George can’t help but notice the way the yellow color of your robes makes your eyes sparkle even more. Fred then says, “Ready to go then? Have got a massive Charms essay to finish up.”

But George ignores this; instead, he lifts the cloak from over him and is again visible to anyone in the surrounding area. He laughs at whispered yelps from both Fred and Harry, and he swears he hears a, If we’re caught I’m going to murder you, mate!

He frowns at this but continues to ignore it; adrenaline is coursing through his body like a rapid fire. He walks toward the group with his hands in his pockets, looking as if he’s just been out for a casual stroll, when once again, you meet his gaze.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“Seeing you two times in one week?” you ask, placing a hand on your hip. “Aren’t I a lucky one.”

George smirks at you and wants nothing more than to sneak you into the Gryffindor common room later tonight. This scheme, he thinks, would definitely, probably, most certainly earn him detentions for weeks, if not months. “Well I may have heard you were out here, came to see you.”

“Is that so?”

“I just can’t help myself.”

“Not spying on us, are you, Georgie?”

“Spying? Never,” he replies gleefully. Making you laugh is just about his favorite thing. He nods toward the pitch, glad to see that the rest of the team has made it inside the changing rooms, leaving you two alone, “how’d practice go?”

“You Gryffindors better prepare—best lineup we’ve had in years. I daresay we might actually be able to get our hands on the cup.”

George laughs at this, not at all caring about the fact that if Fred had heard you say this, he’d nearly be up in arms at the thought of Gryffindor losing. George, however, doesn’t mind that much. Not if it means he’d get you in return. “I’d like to see you try.”

You release your hair from it’s ponytail and George cannot shake the feeling that he’s got something very sharp lodged in his throat. He clears it once, twice, three times before finally feeling it subside. You grin, elbow him playfully and say, “Don’t worry. I will.”

— -

Hogsmeade is absolutely swarmed with students, it being the first trip of the school year, and all. In fact, it’s so crowded, that George can hardly see through the sea of people. He follows his brothers into Honeydukes to pick up some much needed candy items before heading back to Hogwarts for the evening feast.

“I reckon you can never have too many chocolate wands,” Ron says brightly, pulling as many as he can off of the shelves. Quite a sweet tooth he has. Then he notices some caramel cobwebs and grabs a fistful of those, too.

“Ronald, leave room for dinner, would you?” Hermione teases him as he pays for his goodies; she then steals a wand out of his hand and bites into it, smiling giddily. Ron turns a bright shade of pink.

“Zonko’s next?” Fred asks the crowd, examining the sugar quill he’s just purchased. He then gingerly sticks it into his bag and heads toward the exit. “C’mon—we’ve got to get back soon and I’ve a lot I need to purchase still.”

And so everyone follows Fred from Honeydukes and back out onto the very crowded street. George is now losing all hope of spotting you, and Ginny’s been no help—when asked if you’d be here today, Ginny merely shrugged her shoulders, noting that she hadn’t been able to talk with you much recently due to your very different schedules as well as being in different houses. George huffs a bit and then freezes: he notices you, standing with two of your friends, in a line outside of Madam Puddifoot’s.

Harry notices this and slings an arm around George’s shoulders, “Mate, you’ve got to be kidding.”

“No self respecting bloke will step foot into Madam Puddifoot’s,” Ron chimes in, mouth full of chocolate. “I mean, it’s meant for couples who need to spend less time snogging and more time coming up for air.”

George agrees; he slams his hands in his pockets and keeps his eyes on you. Just the sight of the tea shop alone is making him cringe; of course he wants to be with you. But George Weasley isn’t much of a corny type of bloke, and he reckons you’re not that type of girl, either.

“Yeah, but she’s not with anyone, is she? A guy, I mean,” George tells them, shrugging them off and handing Fred his purchases. “Hang onto that for me, will you? Thanks. See you all back at the castle.”

As George nearly skips across the cobblestone, Fred shakes his head and throws his hands up in surrender. “Oh, yeah, sure thing—I’d be more than happy to carry all this junk for you, mate.”

George just ignores this; he can feel his heart begin to flutter when he watches you run your fingers over the spine of a notebook you’re holding—a new item from Scrivenshaft’s, he’s sure of it. He grins to himself before quietly stepping behind you, and gently taps you on the shoulder. “Didn’t take you for a Madam Puddifoot’s type.”

You whirl around, obviously a bit frightened by his sudden appearance. You bring a hand swiftly to your heart and say through some nervous laughter, “Blimey! You gave me a fright.” The two of you begin to laugh and George notices your two friends peering at you both before erupting into whispers. You turn back to him and shake your head as if to say, Ignore them, and continue on, “I reckon this is about the cheesiest place in all of Hogsmeade! But I have to admit—I’m a sucker for her tea.”

“So not here on a date, are you?”

“A date? Merlin, no! The reason I even step foot in this place, besides the tea, is to seemingly laugh at all of the couples in here—have you ever taken a peek around, George? Some of them are so clueless it’s actually painful.”

He’s nearly melting at your banter, and is surprisingly uplifted to hear that you’re not the type of girl who is looking to be all sickeningly sweet on a date in what’s been deemed as the most romantic spots for young couples. He reckons you’d much rather be throwing quaffles through hoops instead.

Suddenly, the door opens and a jingle signals the entrance of the next group—you, George, and your two friends. He raises his eyebrows and says, “Well let’s take a peek then, shall we?”

And it’s exactly as you’ve described, and exactly what he expects: couples, hardly drinking their tea, but instead peering lovingly into one another’s eyes as if in some type of hypnotized trance, or with their lips locked together without coming up for any air. You turn back to George, wiggle your eyebrows at him and begin to laugh, keeping your voice low. “What’d I tell you?”

“Merlin,” he replies breathlessly, spotting Seamus Finnegan tucked away in a corner with a Ravenclaw. “It’s worse than I thought.”

“Yeah, but—” you stop, handing him a cup of steaming hot liquid, “try the tea! It’s worth it alone to deal with all these people in love.” Your face turns sour at your own words, and you and George find yourself falling into laughter yet again. George swears he hears whispering from your two friends a few feet away.

“You’re right, it’s delicious,” he replies, not breaking your gaze, “and yeah, it’s… a bit much,” you giggle sweetly and turn to look at two young Slytherins attached at the hip, “but I reckon if you’re with the right person, it’s not so bad.”

A soft smile spreads itself across your face, and George can feel his insides go warm and gooey. “Oh yeah? Going soft on me?”

He sips his tea again lightly, poking you gently in the ribs. “With you? I just might be.”

— -

When George pops through the portrait hole that evening, a very smug grin plastered onto his face, it only takes the lot about five and a half seconds before bombarding him with questions and a bit of teasing.

“Oh lookout, there he is now—been snogging her in Puddifoot’s this whole time, have you?” Fred frowns and chucks a throw pillow at him, but George is quick and catches it.

“Nah, he couldn’t be, mate,” Ron tells Fred from the ground as he leans against the couch, “you’ve got to properly ask a girl out before getting to that level, and we know Georgie hasn’t gotten there yet, has he?” Raucous laughter echoes throughout the common room from him, Fred, and Harry.

“Leave George alone,” Hermione and Ginny scold together. Then Hermione continues, “Just because you three don’t know how to properly treat a woman—”

George stands up a little straighter. “Ah—cheers, Hermione.”

“So you’ve done it, then?”

“Reckon my dating life isn’t really any of your business, Ron,” George replies cheekily. He then quickly heads up to the boys dormitory, changes into comfortable clothes, and comes back down, only to climb back out through the portrait hole and into the corridors. “Hey, where’re you off too?” Ginny calls.

George ignores this; he jumps back out, not paying a lick of attention to the singing of the Fat Lady, and is delighted to see that you’re still standing there, leaning against the wall, picking at the sleeves of your sweater. You look up and grin; he’s beginning to feel those nerves again. “Ready?” you ask.

The two of you head straight for the pitch, now surely very dark—it’s almost after hours, but he doesn’t mind, and he’s happy that you don’t either. Whilst spending most of the afternoon making a mockery out of those couples in Puddifoot’s, you and George had fallen into an animated conversation revolving Quidditch, which seems to be a lot about what you two discuss these days.

You’re both hovering above the ground; the pitch is nearly completely black. George can only see you in the moonlight shining down on you both from the night sky. You say to him, blocking the goal posts, “Do your worst, Weasley.”

He’s not used to acting as Chaser, and you, a Keeper. But despite his ruddy awful tries at launching the quaffle through the goal posts, and your creative, albeit a bit dangerous, attempts at blocking these potential goals, you two still end up falling into a fit of hysterics and nearly falling off of your brooms. George could stay here for hours, into the dead of night, not a care in the world..

He feels his heart begin to race a bit and frowns at the sight of a few lights turning off within the castle. It’s evident to you both, now, that it’s far past curfew, and if Snape catches you both out here, you’re done for. Without saying anything, the both of you land on the grass and slowly make your way back toward the castle. “I reckon Keeper is definitely not on my list of Quidditch skills,” you tell him, laughing lightly.

He shrugs and grins at you, “You’re better than you think you are.”

“I should play with you more often—full of compliments, you are.”

“Can you blame me? I just—you’re kind of brilliant—”

“Oooh,” you say a bit teasingly, jabbing him in the ribs, “you about to confess your love for me, or something?”

He just smiles.

A bit taken aback, you ask skittishly, “A-are you?”

His grin deepens at your flustered words. “Well, yeah, I am.” he says plainly, as if it’s obvious.

Your eyes dart back and forth between him and the castle. It’s obvious to him that you’re feeling a bit nervous now. “Are you serious?”

George laughs haughtily, placing his broom down on the ground as he inches closer to you. “Haven’t I been making myself obvious?”

“I—I mean,” you stammer, tripping over your words as if the sight of him is making you tongue tied. There she is, he thinks. Shy, sweet girl you’ve always been. “You’ve.. you’ve always been flirty! I kind of just thought it was a joke?”

He pretends to fall back dramatically, and is delighted to hear you laugh a bit. “That hurts, Y/N, I was kind of hoping you’d be able to tell that I’m mad for you.”

A grin tugs at your lips, and George feels his nerves begin to subside at the dazed look on your face. “Soooo, you weren’t joking?”

“I’m always joking, love,” he says playfully, now just centimeters from you, and he snakes an arm around your waist, “just not about this.”

You swallow thickly, and now he’s leaning in. His voice is nearly a whisper.

“If you want me to stop—”

“Don’t stop,” you tell him breathlessly.

When his lips touch yours, he feels a chill declare war on his bones; it’s as if all of the adrenaline in the world is surging through his body at this exact moment. He’s quite sure he’s short-circuited, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as your fingers creep gently across his shoulder blades and into his hair. It’s slow and tender and soft, the way first kisses should be, the way he’s been imagining it.

Both of you pull away gently, and he hovers for a moment and smiles before pulling away fully. Your arms are still draped over his shoulders and his hands tighten around your hips; he’s definitely not going to sleep tonight, not after this, and he fully plans on going to class in the morning with some kind of hangover. “It’s crazy how you went from being just some girl—”

You grin lazily and he feels as though he’s about to spontaneously combust.

“Now you’re just the girl,”

You roll your eyes at this. “Ugh, has Madam Puddifoot’s made you corny, now?”

“Nah, it’s you,” he replies, pressing his forehead to yours, “you just bring out this side of me.”

You shoot a smug smile his way. “Hmm,” you begin, pausing to consider the conversation and think for a moment. You blink a few times, and he’s a right mess at the feeling of your eyelashes brushing his cheekbones, “can’t believe the effect I have on you. Can’t bloody wait for our match then, huh? Try not to get so flustered, Georgie.”

He grins against your lips and before kissing you fully again, he says, “Can’t make any promises, love.”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, thank you for reading and requesting loves x

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futurewriter2000 · 4 years ago

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Tender, Strong, Silly and Smart

A/N: I had found this in my drafts half-written and I had decided to give my Georgie a little attention and make this sweet fic for him. Hope you like it <3

PAIRING: George Weasley x reader

How his eyes would linger on you when you walked into the classroom with your hair let down and the front tucked behind your ears. Two purple marbles tucked into your earlobe and a small hoop on the helix of your left ear. You had never let a day go by without wearing those earrings and he knew that to you, they held a special place in your heart- from a special person and maybe one day, he could be that person too. How utterly in love he was and how utterly dumb he was to not show a single hint or any indication that his feelings for you were much bigger than stealing glances of you when nobody was watching. Sometimes they stayed on you, observing you. Your eyes would sparkle like the sun when you talked with your friends yet there was never a glimmer in your eyes when they had to focus on a blackboard, filled with notes and formulas, wand movements and other definitions you were not familiar with.

He had bravery... when his brother was around to encourage him. Though his brother had no clue of his little crush on you and he preferred it that way. Not because he didn’t want Fred to know but because Fred had a tendency to be a bit brash when it came to George and his innocent little crushes. Thought you weren’t that of an innocent of a crush- no. He could see a whole future with you. He could see you laughing with him by your side, he could hear the conversations the two of you would have in the future, Molly loving you, Arthur even more because you were just... so much to love.

And George had never thought of you much until this last year when Umbridge came to Hogwarts. He knew you were more of a rebel yet he was taken by surprise when you started talking back to her soon after a month of her tyranny.

You weren’t much to stand out yet you weren’t invisible either. You could catch attention but you could also become transparent. Now, months have passed and you were still the main prize in his eye. There was just something about you that made you so attractive; the way you walked into class, you stole his attention like you had been calling him on top of your lungs and the gentle smiles you send out to people, even when it’s clear that something heavy is on your mind.

He walked behind you as you were leaving the class, not much interested in conversation. Early classes weren’t your favorite but you still managed to click into conversation quite easily. Your friends were complaining about Umbridge and you didn’t let that opportunity for mocking her slip by any cause.

In a girly, squeaky loud voice, you took your wand out of your pocket and started waving as you spoke. “The MInIstry Is quUIte strict about those ruuullleess, Mister Adequette. Detention!” you laughed and your friends followed, George behind you as well.

“Imagine if she heard you.” one of your friends laughed. “Detention.”

“She wishes she can give me detention. I told her that the Minister is my uncle and that if she dares to punish me any sort of way, he’ll take her position.” you rolled your eyes, walking beside them.

“And she believed you?!” they both widened their eyes.

“Of course not.” you laughed. “She told me she’ll do some digging but I told her that I’ll tell my uncle she’s been digging to get some dirt-”

“No, you didn’t!”

“Yes, I did.” you opened your eyes. “I’m not taking any shit from anybody. Not even that toad-like little whore and if she tries to punish me any sorts of way, I’ll bring my daddy.”

Your friends laughed to that, thinking you were joking about that but you were quite clear.

“Look. There is no possible way that people in her position would listen to a teenager but if a grownup comes, my strict arse of a father with his lion’s voice, threatening them to sue them- then hey, maybe I win.” you started walking triumphantly.

“I think your mother would be worse.” said one of them.

“Oh.” you laughed. “She’d burn the whole school down.” you let out a laugh.

“Not if Fred and I do it first.” George added out of the blue and you turned around to see him watching you.

“Is that a challenge Mister Weasley?” you quirked an eyebrow at him, then shrugged and continued before he answered. “Though you’re sort of right. Heard her office is somewhat your new home.” you grinned, walking backwards as you kept your eyes on him.

He shook his head, chuckling. “You heard wrong, Miss (Y/n). We’re too witty to be caught by her gromless Slytherin security guards.” he tried to joke around but his eyes on your hand, the scars on your hand made his lips turn the other way. “What’s that?” he pointed and you looked at your hand.

“Oh.” you smiled and started walking beside him again. “Just her little punishment for me the day I told her to bog off.” you tried to laugh it off but he could hear it in the sound of your voice that it wasn’t such a pleasant experiance.

“I did hear of her doing that and nobody does anything-”

“Well, what can you do?” you shrugged, letting the moment fall into the silence and making George to contemplate a bit.

“Can I tell you something?” he stopped and turned towards you.

“A secret?” you gasped excitedly. “Do tell Mister Weasley.” you continued to tease but the look in his eyes made you switch from humor to all-seriousness. “Oh, it’s something really really solemn, innit?”

He chuckled as he saw your eyes change colours as they observed him. You looked adorable when your eyebrows were a bit furrowed and the space between them was wrinkled. It made his heart flutter a bit. “Well it’s not something our fancy new headmaster would like.”

“Well, then Weasley, I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” your eyes glimmered with mischief and how perfectly you phrased those words made him fall for you even faster.

---

The twins were walking fast in front of you, somewhere where you weren’t familiar with but George kept sending you secure glances, which made you feel a bit calmer... and out of breath.

“Oi! Can the two of you slow down, for God’s sake. Not all of us are as in physical shape as the two Gryffindor Quidditch beaters with abnormally long legs.”

Fred and George let out an identical laugh as both of them turned their head back to you, Fred speaking first as usual. “So you’re calling us fit?” he wiggled his eyebrows flirtatiously as George snapped his head at him, his smile faltering.

“I’m calling you fast.” you finally caught up to him, finding a large door appear in front of you. “How long was this door here? That’s for not wearing my glasses.” you looked up at George, grinning as he lowered his head and chuckled again.

“It’s the place I was telling you about.”

“Fancy door.” you said as an addition, then looking at them. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“That is some way to treat a lady, lads.” you opened the door by yourself and walked in, finding a large group of teenagers in groups.

“Sorry dolly, had a bit doubts of letting you in.” George appeared in your sight, sending you a wink before he led you to Harry, intorducing you.

You reached your hand to him and shook it. “Nice to officially meet you, Chosen One.” you smiled as Harry chuckled.

“Oh, God.” he kept on smiling. “(y/n) is it?”

“The Only One.” you winked as the rest of the boys chuckled once again.

---

It had been ecstatic, working with people you had always seen walking around school but never got to know them. Everybody was talking to everybody, laughing and having fun as Harry thought all of you one of the best spells.

George didn’t mind to help you around. He started to flirt with you more ofter, which led you a bit stained in a rosy colour. He pointed it out almost every time, which made you blush even harder. It was a game, between the two of you, since he wasn’t the only one to flirt. You made him blush on occasions as well.

Since you had started coming to those meetings, you had become closer to some people you never thought you would. Everybody helped everybody and Harry was the sweetest boy you had met, trying to help you conjur your own patronus.

“Just practice. You’ll get it eventually.” he squeezed your shoulder as you simpered.

George had seen you struggling with it, each time you tried with determination in your eyes- then disappointment as it failed. The colour in your eyes laid heavy and he knew you kept trying to think of a happy memory but the more you tried, the more sad ones kept entering.

He approached you with a soft smile. “Anything I can do?”

“I just- I don’t know. I’m trying so hard.” you huffed, looking away. “I just can’t think of a happy memory for some reason.”

“Give it time. You don’t have to succeed all in first try.” he tucked a strand of fallen hair behind your ear, making you look up at his brown sugar eyes and cause your whole body feel like a giant rubber. You felt the heat reach your cheeks and as much as you knew he noticed that, he didn’t say a single thing, only smiled. “These earrings are nice.” he smiled, taking a hold of one for just a brief moment.

“Yeah..” you smiled, taking a hold of the same one. “It came with a ring and a necklace.”

“Must have been expensive.”

“Probably.” you shrugged. “I wouldn’t really know since I got it for my birthday.”

“Anybody special?”

“Mum.” you smiled, remembering back on the day and holding your necklace this time. “I was having some rough time with my grades and I’ve been just in a fight with my dad- him and I always have a row- it’s like a daily thing but one day my mum was going to the jewelry store in town to clean one of her rings- she wears a lot of gold.” you looked up at him and saw him smiling at you, listening as well. “I saw these gorgeous purple rocks just screaming to me, you know? And I couldn’t take my eyes of them and I just gave my mum the look and she bought them for me for my birthday.”

He kept watching you as you did him, a beautiful trusting moment, shared between the two of you and the way he watched you, with those perfect brown eyes- it made you realize that you might actually be falling for this boy.

He took a step behind you, let his hand travel down your dominant hand and raise it up until your wand was pointed at the ceiling. “Well, then. Try that.” he spoke quietly, his breath hitting your neck and causing goosebumps to rise up on your skin. You looked at him just for a moment, to make you beg for air as he took it all from your lungs. You smiled, eyes still on him, moment still present, never even left. The way his hands were gently placed on your arms and how gently, like a feather, flew away from them to give you your space.

With heated cheeks and your mind on George, you looked up at the ceiling, at the spot where your wand was pointing and you didn’t think back on the day you had gotten your set of earrings, nor your mum but just that moment, that faint, brief yet memorable happy moment you had just shared with him.

There it was; forming slowly yet forming all-together in a majestic tropical animal with a large trunk and large ears- it almost made you cry at how amazingly the elephant came close to your personality: tender, strong, silly and smart.

Everybody cheered and Harry had shouted a well done from the other side of the room but you weren’t really paying attention to Harry. Your eyes were on George, who had watched you with lovely adoration. When your perfect patronus left the sky, you kept a few moments to take it all in, just seeing the elephant in your head as you did just a few moments ago.

You didn’t know this would effect you as much as it did but seeing that gorgeous blue light, swimming on the sky and looking at you with those innocent eyes- it did bring tears to your eyes- happy tears.

“Didn’t I tell you, you could do it?” he appeared at your side and you laughed, taking him into a hug.

“Thank you so much, George.” you felt his hands wrap around you as well, pulling you close to him and lifting a bit on your toes.

You let out a giggle, pulling away and looking at him.

“An elephant.”

“Astounding, wasn’t he?” he beamed up at him.

His eyes kept looking at yours, his hands still resting on your hips. “Certainly.”

“Woops.” Fred crashed into George, making him crash into you and let you stumble your own two feet almost hitting the floor if it wasn’t for George’s arms tightly wrapped around you. “Pardon me. Slippy floors.” Fred moved past you, pushing you closer to George and causing you to laugh.

George couldn’t help himself but join you- and by brash, he meant his brother was literally pushy when it came to girls George fancied. He placed you firmly back on your own to feet as you kept yourself close to him, letting the silence take over.

“Quite a clumsy brother you have there.” you smiled, looking over at Fred who was grinning from a far, observing the two of you.

“He means well.” George smirked, stepping from one foot to the other.

“Oh. “ you smirked as well. “And by that you mean?”

“He just gave a good opportunity to ask you if you would like to go on a date with me?”

You couldn’t help yourself but to giggle, looking away for a moment then back at George. You wrapped your hands around his neck and swayed on your feet as well. “Well, if you had already saved me from falling- how could I ever say no to my knight in a shining armour?” you teased, causing him to chuckle again.

“You flatter me, Miss (y/l/n) but I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

“Yes.”

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader

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justanoutlawfic · 7 years ago

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Scrabble: A Snowing AU

Because I have zero self-control and @loboselinaistrash is the queen of peer pressure, I present to you: Scrabble. A Snowing slow burn. Minor ships will include: Rumbelle, Red Kansas & Ashley/Thomas (they don’t have a ship name, right?). Plus Snow Queen, Red Snow and Sheep Bros friendship. :)

Plot: Mary Margaret and David are two best friends who desperately wants a baby. One night, over a game of Scrabble, she suggests they have one together.

Also on AO3/FF

Mary Margaret let out a sigh as she smoothed down her blouse before ringing the doorbell. The door swung open and Ashley greeted her with a huge smile on her face, a hand resting on her baby bump.

“Mary Margaret! Hi!” She threw her arms around her, giving her a tight hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Of course.” Mary Margaret said, allowing her friend to lead her into the house.

The living room was abuzz, most of Storybrooke was present. The present table was overflowing with gifts and it took Mary Margaret a minute to find a spot. She leaned back for a minute as she looked around the room once more. Many people had brought their own babies, it seemed there had been something in the water. Ashley was the latest of their group to get pregnant. In fact, there was only one person left who didn’t have a kid of their own.

Mary Margaret.

She was 28-years-old and always pictured herself with at least one child by that point. She hadn’t found Mr. Right, yet. Her friend, Regina, told her that she didn’t need him to have a child. After all, she had adopted Henry as a single parent. She appreciated it, but she didn’t want to do it alone. It wasn’t just the idea of changing dirty diapers and doing all the late night feedings alone, it was having someone to go through all the milestones.

Mary Margaret had always been the girl to want a baby. She played with dolls from a young age and made lists of potential names in junior high. She was one of the few that actually looked forward to the robotic baby project in health class. There was only one other person she knew was that obsessed with having a family someday at that age. She smiled over at him and he matched it, lifting a beer before turning back to chatting with Thomas.

David and Mary Margaret had met when the former moved to Storybrooke with his step-father and twin brother when they were 16. He had lost both of his parents by the age of 10 and after Ruth’s death, George became his guardian. David wasn’t like his brother, he wasn’t interested in playing sports or hanging out with the rough crowd. So, he found himself getting well acquainted with Thomas, who was dating Ashley even back then.

As it turned out, they had a lot more in common they realized. Mary Margaret had lost her mother when she was younger and was being raised by her single father, who seemed to busy to pay any attention to her. She and David hung out a lot, studying and eating greasy fast food at Granny’s diner. They even both went to the same local college. Everyone always joked they should just get married, but they didn’t see that. They were best friends, nothing more.

This was the third shower Mary Margaret had been to that year. She was really happy for Ashley and Thomas, she knew how badly they had wanted a child. They had to try for years and Alexandra would be their miracle baby. Even so, Mary Margaret couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

Halfway through the party, she noticed that David was standing in the corner, holding Gideon. She looked around for Belle and Kenneth Gold, but came up short. She walked over to him, smiling.

“Kidnapping babies now, are we?”

David laughed. “Kenneth forgot the present in the car and Belle had to run to the bathroom, so I offered to hold Gid here.”

“He really is adorable.” She let out a content sigh, stroking the baby’s chubby cheek. People had been a bit hesitant when Belle started dating Gold, but they were really happy. She made an amazing step-mom to his son and now they had added to their family. It didn’t hurt that the baby looked great in David’s arms. “You gonna hog the baby the whole party?”

He smirked. “Here.”

David slowly put the baby into Mary Margaret’s arms and she moved him closer to her, so she could inhale the intoxicating scent babies always seemed to have. She didn’t know what it was, almost like they were born with it. Gideon wiggled in her arms, trying to reach up for the necklace around her neck.

“Oh no, no, that’s not a toy.”

David looked around and picked up the rattle Belle had left behind, placing it in Gideon’s hand. “There we go.”

He could see the look in Mary Margaret’s eye, it was the same one she got every time she held one of their friends’ babies. Suddenly, they were the only person in the room. She’d just babble with them and rock them gently. Mary Margaret had always been great with kids, he could remember while most of their friends went out on the weekends, she’d be babysitting for her neighbors. It was no surprise that she became a teacher.

Belle walked back over and smiled at the sight. “Well, thank you guys for keeping him preoccupied.”

Mary Margaret looked up. “Oh, no problem.” She placed Gideon back in Belle’s arms. “There you go, Mama’s back.”

And just like that, another look David knew all too well was on Mary Margaret’s face. The same one she got whenever she had to give a baby back. She knew of course that the babies weren’t hers, but he also knew how badly she wanted one of her own. The truth was, he was worried she’d follow in Regina’s footsteps and adopt as a single parent. However, she shared that just wasn’t what she wanted. At the time, she had been dating Victor Whale and thought they’d end up with a child.

That name alone made David want to punch a wall. Whale was one of the best doctors in their little town, but also a known womanizer. He had a wondering eye and a cheating heart. David had warned Mary Margaret about him, but she went after him anyway. It lead to nothing but heartbreak. He supposed he couldn’t talk. After all, he was only a year out of his divorce.

Gulping, he noticed Kathryn standing on the other side of the room, her arm linked with Jim. He knew he should’ve been pissed about his wife’s infidelity and yet, he wasn’t. He was more upset of what they could’ve had. They hadn’t talked since their last hearing, when things were all settled. At first, he thought they could remain friends, but then they got into that fight.

“You never came to me,” Kathryn accused him. “You always went to her.”

It wasn’t true, or so he thought. Mary Margaret was his best friend. Was that supposed to change simply because he got married? Kathryn was his wife. He didn’t push her to cheat, she made that choice on her own. Besides, Mary Margaret was there for him through it all. She made sure he was eating and brought him takeout from the diner, she rented all his favorite action flicks. He wasn’t sure how he would’ve gotten through any of it without her.

His thoughts were interrupted by Thomas’ sudden clapping. “Alright everyone,” he announced. “It’s time to open presents.”

They all sat in a circle, ooing and ahhing over all the cute things people had purchased for the baby. He grinned when Ashley opened up Beverley Lucas’ (or Granny as she insisted on being called) present, a baby blanket. She made them for all the babies in Storybrooke. This one had bright pink ribbon and the baby’s name scrawled out on the side. He couldn’t help but notice that every other baby there had one too. It was just a special thing they all shared.

Eventually, the party came to a close. Most people were in the apartment’s parking lot, struggling to get car seats or cajoling kids to get in the car. He could see Mary Margaret unlocking her tiny Subaru, her purse slung over her shoulder. He walked over to her.

“Aesop’s?” He asked.

A smile broke out across her face. “Definitely. I’ll meet you there.”

David hopped into his truck and followed her down to the bar. The town had two, but the Rabbit Hole was more of his brother’s scene. Aesop’s was quieter and one could actually have a conversation. He settled down across from Mary Margaret, their craft ale in front of them.

“So, another one bites the dust,” David said, taking a sip. “I think the two of us, Ruby and Dorothy are the only ones left.”

Mary Margaret shook her head as she swallowed. “Nuh uh. Ruby and Dorothy just told me, they’re heading to China next week. The red tape is all cleared up, they can adopt Ming.”

“Aww, that’s good for them.”

“It is.”

“You’re jealous.”

She sighed. “How can you tell?”

“It was quite obvious.”

“It’s just…I thought I’d be there by now. I had a whole plan. Married at 25, first kid at 27.” She shrugged. “Life didn’t go according to plan.”

“Take it from someone who did get married at 25, it doesn’t mean you will get pregnant.”

She frowned. “You and Kathryn never talked about it?”

“I don’t think she knew what she wanted.”

“Do you want to know what I heard?”

David made a face. Jim was a gym teacher at the school where Mary Margaret worked and she always had the gossip. “Do I?”

“Apparently Jim and Kathryn have been trying. At least that’s what he told Jasmine.”

“Great.” He finished off his beer.

“I know you want a family as badly as I do.”

“Not with her. I mean, we talked about it…but she just never seemed interested.”

“Maybe she’s getting to do it with the right person, so you can find the right one for you.”

David sighed. “I sure hope so.”

Mary Margaret studied her friend for a long while. He had once told her to look at him as a cautionary tale. Marriage didn’t always work out. She had been against doing things as a single mom, but she wasn’t getting any younger. She wasn’t anywhere near the point of her eggs being no good, but she just wanted to be a mom.

Maybe it was time to look into some other methods.

Mary Margaret sat in the office of the adoption agency, tapping her foot against the floor. It had been 3 weeks since Ashley and Thomas’ baby shower and she had filled out her application not long after. It was time to find out her chances, could a baby be in the cards for her?

Sidney Glass walked in and sat across from her. “So, Miss Blanchard, you have shown interest in using our agency to adopt.”

She nodded. “That’s right.”

“And according to your information, you’re single.”

“Yes.”

Sidney continued to look over the papers. “You’re a teacher.”

“4th grade, at Storybrooke Elementary.”

“Right.” Sidney closed her file and let out a sigh. “I’m sorry to tell you, but it doesn’t look good.”

Mary Margaret frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I wouldn’t say your profession would have much to do with it, if you weren’t going into this alone,” he explained. “Many of our expecting mothers are looking for married couples.”

“But it’s not impossible to adopt as a single parent,” she interjected. “My friend adopted through this very agency as a single mother…”

“What is her profession?”

Mary Margaret chewed on her lip. “She’s…the town’s mayor.”

“That would be why. You do make enough to support a child, Miss Blanchard. However, since you have a friend that has been through the process, I’m sure you know it takes awhile.”

She nodded. She remembered it had taken at least a year before Regina gotten the call about Henry. “Well…yes.”

“I think you’d be looking at a longer wait.”

Mary Margaret drew in a deep breath and let it out. Sidney wasn’t telling her she wouldn’t be able to get a baby, but the options seemed lower. She didn’t want to wait years, she wasn’t sure she could wait. She had other options, she knew she did. Before she settled down a bunch of money to be put on a long waitlist, she decided to give it some more thought.

Feeling defeated, Mary Margaret headed to the diner. She had taken the entire morning off work and the sub would cover her through the student’s recess. She needed some tea and a grilled cheese to sort her nerves. Sliding into her usual booth, she gave her order to one of the waitresses and half-heartedly scrolled through her phone.

“How’d it go?”

Her head whipped up and she found Ruby standing there. David may have been her best friend since high school, but Ruby had been her first best friend, period. They had met the first day of kindergarten and been inseparable ever since. Ruby’s parents had died when she was a baby, so she was being raised by her grandmother. Mary Margaret’s mother passed away when they were in first grade and the two connected deeply. She was the first one Ruby came out to as bisexual and she supported her best friend. She loved Dorothy, she was perfect for her and had served as maid of honor in their wedding two years prior. It made sense that Ruby was the only person she had told about her interview.

“It’s not looking good.” Mary Margaret chewed on her lip. “I’d be a single parent as it is, but apparently my job didn’t help.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Seriously? I would think that would give you brownie points. You’re crazy enough to work with kids every day, they should give you a kid.”

Mary Margaret couldn’t help but laugh. Ruby knew it wasn’t that easy, she and Dorothy had been trying to adopt for a long time. Even so, she was just trying to help her best friend feel better. Signaling to Granny that she was taking a break, she slid across from her friend.

“Have you thought about using a sperm donor?” Ruby suggested. “I mean, DNA doesn’t matter, but you’d get to experience being pregnant.”

“I’d like that. It’s just…I’m not sure I want to do it alone. I mean, even adoption.” She sighed. “That was too impulsive.”

“There’s um…there’s something else I’m going to suggest. It may sound crazy, but here me out.” Mary Margaret raised an eyebrow, but gestured for her friend to continue. “Well, before I met Dorothy, I was afraid I wouldn’t meet anyone. So, Will, you remember him? Anyway, we made a pact. If we were still single at 40, we’d have a baby together.”

“I didn’t know you were attracted to him.”

“I wasn’t, but he was a good guy and I figured he’d be a good co-parent.” She smiled. “Then he met Anastasia and I met Dorothy, so it obviously wasn’t needed. But, it was still a plan.”

Mary Margaret made a face and sipped her tea that the other waitress delivered. “I’m not sure I could wait until 40.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Not what I meant, Mare. You could do it now, with a friend…like David.”

“David?”

“6 feet tall, dirty blonde hair…”

“I know who David is. It’s just…really?”

“You’re both single, I know you two have wanted babies since forever.” She shrugged. “Why not?”

Mary Margaret wanted to argue about how ridiculous it was, but she felt Ruby had a point. She had known David for a dozen years, they were best friends. He was the town sheriff and so great with children. She knew she could count on him to be a good co-parent. He’d adore their child no matter what.

If they used IVF, she imagined what the child would look like. Would they inherit her green eyes and his blonde locks? Or the opposite, with her dark waves and his baby blues…

Out of all of her friends, she could picture having a baby with David Nolan.

It was worth a shot….

Game night was once a fun way for the group to get together, drink wine and have fun. However, with most of them having kids or being pregnant, attendance was dwindling. Gideon had a cold, Ashley wasn’t feeling so hot and Aurora was bringing the baby to visit her parents. David didn’t quite understand why Ruby and Dorothy couldn’t come. They gave some half-ass excuse about working, even though he knew they didn’t have. Either way, it was just going to be him and Mary Margaret.

She seemed awkward from the moment he entered her loft. It was a decent size for her. She chose to sleep in the living room area, the upstairs had two guest beds set up, not that she ever had many visitors. The furniture wasn’t the comfiest, but it was all she could afford when she moved out of her father’s after college.

David watched as she poured out some wine and set up the first game of the night: Scrabble. They got started, her beating him as usual. Just as he was trying to figure out his next move, he could see her subtly switching out tiles. He raised an eyebrow but before he could say anything else, she grabbed a sharpie and drew a question mark on one of the blank tiles.

Without another word, Snow arranged the five tiles out on the board, far away from their game. David studied them and raised an eyebrow.

Baby?

“Um…Mary Margaret?” He looked at her confused.

“I want a baby,” she said, quickly. “And I want to have one with you.”

#snowing #snowing au #mary margaret x david #david x mary margaret #snow x david #david x snow #snow x charming #charming x snow #ouat au

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