#arthur weasley fanfiction
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
fatecanberewritten-writer · 2 months ago
Text
Embers | Chapter Two: Red
Tumblr media
Stars Series | Embers
“Oh, come off it, Arthur!”
The lanky red-head was jostled around in his group of friends, and he chuckled heartily as he nearly lost his footing. “No, really, I’m telling you the truth!”
“Royston Idlewind did not throw you the Quaffle after winning the World Cup!” Armand Irvin cried in disbelief.
“I can write to my brothers if you’d like. They were there, they’d tell you!” said Arthur, laughter still in his voice.
“I’d be quicker to believe them if they told us that you’d gotten with a Veela while in France,” joked Emile Brown, throwing the group into another loud fit of laughter at Arthur’s expense, and while he smiled with them he was going slightly red. They’d walked out into a crowded courtyard by now, and were attracting quite a bit of attention. 
While still red, Arthur grinned slyly and leaned in to his friends. “What happens in France, stays in France,” he said quietly, and they were set off again, but this time, Arthur joined in. 
His confidence back, Arthur stood up a little straighter and stopped walking almost immediately, caught in a hazel-eyed gaze. His friends kept walking. “You coming, Arthur?” called Jarrod Abbott.
Arthur didn’t look back at this, his eyes fixed on Molly Prewett as she reddened slightly and looked away from him. “I’ll catch up with you!” he responded to his friends, who, following his line of sight, gave off very childish ‘ohh’s and continued on their way. Arthur shook his head at them, and made his way over to Molly.
“Hi there,” he said as he reached her. She was sitting with the other girl that had been in Muggle Studies with them, the Hufflepuff. “It was Molly, right? Molly and. . .” he looked over at the kind blonde, who looked ready to help him with her name if he needed it. “Alice?”
“That’s right,” the Hufflepuff smiled, nodding. “Arthur, right? Arthur Weasley?”
Arthur grinned at her. “That’s me,” he said brightly, turning his attention back to Molly a bit more. “How are you girls liking Muggle Studies so far? This is your first year in it, right?”
Both of the girls nodded, but Alice was the one to respond. “It’s a bit better than expected,” Alice mused. “Professor Brady seems really passionate about the subject.”
“Oh yeah, Professor Brady’s great, isn’t she? One of the best professors here, if I may say.”
“Are you sure that’s not just because you’re her favorite?” quipped Molly, and under her gaze, Arthur began to redden again.
He chuckled bashfully. “Oh, that’s just because she’s had me before. She loves all her students - you’ll see.” Molly raised her eyebrows and gave Alice a look, the both of them clearly not fully believing him. “But, hey,” said Arthur, quickly changing the subject. “I just wanted to extend out the offer - if either of you need help with the subject material, I’d be happy to tutor you.” His eyes lingered on Molly, and she looked down, the corners of her lips curving upwards just slightly. “It was really kind of you both to transfer to Muggle Studies to keep the subject going. So, if you need any help with your OWLs, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Molly finally looked him in the eye, her grin more obvious. “That’s really nice of you.”
“We might have to take you up on that,” started Alice. “There’s definitely a lot of material we’ve - ” but Alice was caught off as a Ravenclaw girl called her name excitedly, and her eyes brightened as she looked at a friend across the way - “oh, that’s Maisie. I’ll catch up with you later,” she said to Molly, and to Arthur, “Nice meeting you!”
The Gryffindors smiled at Alice as she left, but were caught in a kind of awkward silence as they turned back to each other. Molly fiddled with the old cover of a book in her lap. Arthur, who really wanted to continue talking to her, cleared his throat and said, “So, uh - did you have a nice summer?”
Molly looked up at him with a bit of a smirk. “It was alright. Doesn’t sound nearly as exciting as yours, though. Veelas in France?”
Arthur’s face went red again and he chuckled nervously. “Heard that, did you?”
“The entire courtyard did,” she said playfully.
“My friends were just joking around - ” he said quickly, stumbling over his words a bit - “I didn’t actually - I didn’t - I don’t even really like blondes, I - ”
“So what do you like, then?” Molly cut in cooly.
His mouth slightly open, Arthur froze. His stomach was flipping, his heart was beating rapidly, and he was wondering how in all hell he hadn’t noticed Molly Prewett before. She was absolutely stunning. 
He took a second to regain his composure, then, with a sly smile, he leaned in towards her. “Red-heads.” As he leaned back, he grinned as he watched her go nearly as red as her hair. He parted his lips to speak again, but the two of them were interrupted.
“There you are, Molly!” The pale, raven-haired Gryffindor nearly ran into Arthur as she rushed over to Molly, but somehow, she didn’t even seem to notice him. In her apparent frantic state, she was too focused on Molly, who was looking at her worriedly. “I’ve been looking all over for you! What’s this I hear about you and Julie fighting?”
As Molly scrunched her eyebrows, Arthur suddenly felt like he was the one that was intruding. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”
“Then why is it that you’re down here while she’s up in the dormitory crying her eyes out?”
Her face fell, and immediately she started gathering her things. Before she went to leave, however, she seemed to remember Arthur was still standing there. Her friend finally acknowledged him as well. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to - ”
Arthur gave her an understanding smile. “No worries, I understand.” Molly gave him a thankful smile and turned to leave with her friend, but with a leap of courage, Arthur spoke again. “Prewett!” he called, and as she turned back to him, his heart skipped a beat. “Let me know about the tutoring, alright?”
She shot him that beautiful smile of hers, nodded, then turned away, hurrying out of the courtyard. Arthur took a breath, smiled to himself, and turned to rejoin his friends.
2 notes · View notes
fredgeorgegredfeorge · 3 months ago
Text
Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.
Tumblr media
For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader
Word count: 8k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!
first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)
You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.
So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.
“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.
“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.
“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.
After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.
That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.
You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.
“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.
“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.
“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.
You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.
“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.
“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”
“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.
“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.
“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”
“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”
“What’s he done?”
“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”
“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”
“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”
“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.
“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.
“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”
“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”
So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.
“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.
“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”
“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.
“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.
“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.
“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.
“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.
“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.
“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”
“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“
Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.
Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.
“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.
“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.
“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”
“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.
“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”
“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.
“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.
“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.
The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.
Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.
“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.
“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.
“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.
“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”
“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.
“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”
“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”
“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”
“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”
You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.
“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.
He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.
“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.
That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.
“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.
Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.
“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.
“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”
“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look���you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.
Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.
“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.
He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.
You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.
“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.
At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.
“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.
He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.
“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”
His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.
“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.
“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.
He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.
“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.
“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.
“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.
“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.
He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.
You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.
“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.
“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.
He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.
You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.
You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.
He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.
“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.
Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.
Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.
“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.
You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.
“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,
“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.
“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.
“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.
“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”
Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.
“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”
“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”
“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”
At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.
“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.
“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.
“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.
He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.
“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”
“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.
“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”
“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.
“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”
“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.
“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”
“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.
“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.
It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.
“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.
“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.
“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.
“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.
“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.
“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.
“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.
“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”
“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.
You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.
The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.
Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.
“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”
“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”
“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”
“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.
“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.
“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.
1K notes · View notes
mastermindmiko · 4 months ago
Note
hi,
i’m currently in my bill weasley phase aha
i was wondering if i could have gut wrenching angst and maybe fluff i need something to just cause pain aha
it’s okay if not :)
Hey, I know this is very long overdue but it's finally here! You asked for angst, and angst you shall receive. I hope I did it justice. More (Bill Weasley Fanfiction)
content warnings: none I believe, but lmk, kissing maybe? not edited Pairing: Bill Weasley + fem!reader word count: 9201 (sorta got carried away) Summary: You and Bill were always friends, until there was something more.
a/n: Trying my best to finish all the requests I've got and simply just posting more. Also, I tried this little thing were I did a sort of rhyming (don't want to call it poetry cause that's too big a compliment) to start off the ff, you can sort of see it like a summary maybe too.
Tumblr media
It all starts out the same way, with a girl and a boy that meet when they were small then grow until they’re tall. They grasp each other's hands, holding their stance as their friendship solidifies until there’s a shift, a switch, a fully expected change that takes things from where they were to where they are now. 
There were only ever a few things that I cared about; My family, my friends, my future and my Bill. He never fit into neither the first nor the second categories as it was simply just different with him. Living only a few kilometres away from the Weasleys ensured that I spent most of my time with him, and as we both went to Hogwarts it only made me want to sew him to my side even more. 
“Hey, why do the Weasleys call you Honey?” 
“Ummm, it involves an incident where I ended up being a large tub of honey.” I explain as vaguely as I can, still trying to erase the embarrassing story out of my head. Tonks looks at me weirdly before waving her hand, “I don’t even want to know.”
I spent ten years of my life being Bill’s friend, best friend even, watching as his family got bigger and so did he. He developed his interests and I developed mine when all I thought of him was a friend, and none of that changed until-
“Do you think Bill’s hot?” 
Nymphadora- Tonks asked me one day. I look up from my lunch and ask her, “What?” 
“You know Bill- you’re friend, tall, ginger-” 
“I know who Bill is…” I trail off, and I think of what she just asked, now that we were fifteen (practically adults), everyone started falling for people left and right, while I just focused on Quidditch and OWLs. Bill was doing the same as me, we would study together, practise together, there just wasn’t enough time building a future and also doing normal typical teenager stuff. 
“You gotta admit, he’s gotten mighty fit over the summer.” Tonks said, and I looked at the girl who’s two years younger than me disapprovingly. Despite being in different years and houses, we shared the same lunch period. I scold, “Aren’t you a bit too young to be thinking of things like that?” 
“I just call it like I see it.” She replies, and then eyes me up and down with a grin on her face. I blush and push her shoulder. She laughs and I smile a bit myself. There’s a beat then she asks again, “You didn’t answer my question…do you think that Bill’s hot?” 
I look around trying to recall in my memory the most accurate picture of Bill I could conjure up. He’s definitely gotten taller. I remember how I used to be able to ruffle his hair without having to step on my tiptoes- and his hair’s gotten longer, much to Molly’s disapproval. He’s gotten a bit more tan from spending all that time out in the sun, making his freckles more apparent. 
All that time in the sun playing quidditch also changed his physique a bit. His shoulders are broader, his biceps and thighs thicker. Hands are larger and stronger. I recall the last game of the summer, only a few weeks ago, where every member of the Weasley family was playing, Ginny being the referee as she was still very small. I was the beater, as always. Bill was the chaser, and we were on opposite teams. Halfway through the game, two hours in, we were still playing and Bill decided to throw some water over his head, cooling him off. The water soaking his hair, arms and shirt, making it cling to his body-
“You totally think he is!” Tonks exclaims, and brings me out of my daydream. I feel my face flare up and I stutter as I defend myself, “It’s not that, it’s just yes, he’s fit but he’s my friend, so he’s just that, he’s just fit.” 
Tonks is still giving me that cheeky grin when I decide that that’s enough of that interaction, so I stand up, deciding to just stay in class for the next fifteen minutes till class starts. I say, “Well, I gotta go. Bye Tonks.” 
She shakes her head, and waves while I headout of the Great Hall. I pull out a piece of paper from my bag as I look at my schedule, I turn around to move the other way, when I see Potions scrawled up on the parchment. I shiver as I enter the dungeons and hope that Professor Snape doesn’t mind me waiting till class begins, I could prep the cauldron while I wait. 
I walk through the dark silent hallways, hearing the echoes of each step I take. A large hand encompasses my shoulder, and I turn around quickly lifting my wand from my waist band. I point my wand to the face of my attacker and I meet with the grinning face of Bill Weasley. I relax as Bill takes the wand out of my hand and places it inside my belt loop, a normal occurrence, if it weren’t for the fact that his face is close to mine and I notice just how sharp and angular it is. 
“Tonks told me you were heading to class, what are you doing going to potions this early? Snape barely tolerates Gryffindor’s when he has to.” Bill says, and push his hand off my shoulder, and he chuckles. I say, “Snape actually likes me, and don’t act like that when you're practically his favourite.” 
“It’s only cause I’m the best.” He grin, cockily, and he taps his head, pointing towards his brain. I push his shoulder playfully and reply, “Second best.” 
***
The Gryffindor common room fills with the sounds of both Muggle and wizard music. The smell of alcohol and sweat from the mixing bodies encases the area. A muggle born brought a machine that flickers light in different hues of different colours, having the lights bounce off the walls, as people dance in the centre of the room, and the chatter fills. 
I’m standing against some wall, holding a cup of butterbeer that was gathered from an illegal trip to Hogsmeade only a few hours ago after the win for the house. I never did drink much alcohol and especially not during Quidditch season. This was the first year I’ve been able to participate in the parties that Gryffindor house threw, and it was exciting, but much more boring than I expected. 
I’m watching the room, looking around, seeing a young Percy trying to make his way up to the boy’s dormitories as swiftly as he could while carrying two books that are twice the size of his head. Some drunk seventh years, push him, unintentionally, Percy glares at them nonetheless. I move towards him, pushing away the couples that might as well just get a room. I fling my arm around Percy’s shoulder, nod my head towards the stairs. I carry one of the books from him and we walk towards the dormitories. 
He rushes up the stairs as fast as he can as soon as he’s out of the sea of bodies. I call out his name, and despite the loud music, he turns to me, guiltily. I say, “We’ve told you a million times that you can’t stay out this loud, especially after curfew, even if it is to study.” 
“I know, I know…you won’t tell Bill?” Percy asks, lips pursed and ashamed. I sigh and give him the other book back and reply, “Not if you don’t do it again.” 
He grins from ear to ear, large glasses slipping off his nose. He laughs, “Thank you, Honey!” He wastes no second before running up the stairs once again, and I can just barely hear the sounds of the footsteps fade away before I walk away. 
I drink the last bit of the butterbeer in my cup. I go to the opposite side of the room, grimacing as people shove me around. I stand by the drinks table and start to look around for the butterbeer bowl, when I notice a mop of red hair, reaching for the firewhiskey. I shake my head and sneak up behind the unsuspecting Weasley. I reach forward and grab a handful of his hair, and pull him back. 
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Charlie chants, while I pull him by his hair. His hands lift up and try to loosen the grip that my fingers had on his hair. I threaten, “Put the cup down.” 
He frowns but (reluctantly) puts it down. I pull him by his hair once again and push him towards, once again the stairs of the dormitories. The place is quieter there, and I can scold him properly. We reach near the top of the first year boy’s dormitories, and I leave his hair. He rubs his head, and looks at me with a frown.
“What in Merlin’s name did you think you were doing?”  I say, while placing a soft (sort of) slap on the back of his head. He swats my hand away after, and continues to rub his head. He pouts, “Stop ruining my best feature.” 
“No, your best feature is your Quidditch skills, not your stupid hair that needs to be cut.” I scold, and look at him, disappointed. I continue, “What did you think you were during? Trying to drink Firewhiskey of all things!” 
A drunk seventh year passes us and shouts, “Yeah little Weesilie, you should try something lighter for your first time.” 
“Bugger off!” I shout at him, and I turn back to Charlie. I rant, “There’s a reason why people below fifth year aren’t allowed to be at parties and being at parties includes alcohol, so until a few more years, you’re not allowed to have any-” 
“A few more years! I’m fourteen as soon as I hit that big 15 like you and Bill, I’m gonna have some.” Charlie says, and he complains, “All my friends have some, and so do you and Bill, why can’t I? It’s just one year.” 
“A year is a long time, Charlie, and so what if all your friends are doing bad things, doesn’t mean you should to, besides Bill and I don’t even like to drink. Even when you turn 15, you’re not going to be able to drink a lot because you’re a seeker, Charlie!” I reply, and he huffs and folds his arms together. 
“That still doesn’t mean that I won’t try it.” Charlie pouts, and he looks down at the floor. I start to feel a little bad for being too hard on him, so I pull him in for a hug, surprised as to how he’s my height now. I say, “If you want to, you could, but until then, it’s off limits.” 
I smile at him, and ruffle his hair a bit. I pull my hand back then put it back on his hair again, and play with a few locks. His face flushes, and he grins at me when I say, impressed, “You weren’t lying, you definitely have the best hair.” 
“You must be lying because you’ve seen my hair.” Bill interrupts and he walks out of the first year boy’s dorms. Charlie looks at me with a panicked look, and I contemplate if I should tell Bill about what just transpired. I play, “No, I have, Charlie’s hair is just better.” 
Charlie pokes his tongue out at Bill, and I grin, and Bill slaps the back of Charlie’s head. Charlie grimaces and mumbles, “You two really are best friends…” 
“Go on, back to your dorm, now.” I say, and he rushes up the stairs. Bill sits down on the stairs and he pulls me down by his hand. I notice how large his hand is compared to mine. I sit down beside him, on the other side of the steps and he sits opposite to me, backs against the walls of the spiralling staircase. Bill asks, “What was he doing down there?” 
“Got lost, I guess…” I trail off, deciding that Charlie’s learnt his lesson. Bill looks back at the first year dorms, and he explains, “One of Percy’s friends, Oliver, found me and said that he couldn’t find Percy, he was afraid that Percy got trampled or squished by the people at the party-” 
We both laugh, and he continues, “Then a few minutes later, Percy walks in, alright and everything…so, thank you.” 
“Hey, I had nothing to do with it, Percy’s very smart.” I say, keeping Percy’s secret. Bill fiddles with the carpeted floor of the stairs and he replies, “I know you he is, but I also know that you helped, he was out at the library again, just like you helped Charlie.”
I don’t say anything and so, Bill smiles at me, and he says, “You don’t have to take care of them, it’s my responsibility, I can do it myself.” 
“I know you can, but they’re sort of like my little brothers too, so I want to.” I reply, and we sit in the silence for a bit. It was a completely normal moment, Bill and I never felt the need to fill in the silence, but for some reason, he asked, “Does that mean that you think I’m your brother too?” 
The question takes me off guard, and my heart lurches to my throat. My eyes flicker between his, searching for the right answer. Maybe for the first time ever, I find Bill hard to read. I choose to give him the truth, so I think of what that is. I couldn’t classify Bill as a sort of family, but I also don’t know where I would put Bill. I opt for the simple answer , not wanting to think about more. I didn’t even know if there was more. I replied, “No…” 
He shuffles a bit closer and the air is charged between us. I pull my knees together and pull them to my chest, to make way for him to come closer. I brush an annoying lock out of my eyes, not wanting to spend a second not looking at him. He says, abruptly, "You're very handsome…”
He notices what he’s said and he flushes, I let out a small laugh and notice the way his face heats up, and how mine is also red. The contrast between his brownish red freckles and his skin and the way his nose seems to be at a perfect angle, Bill honestly was just so- “You’re pretty too”
He smiles at my comment, and he looks at my eyes, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Why can’t I understand what he’s doing? When have I ever not understood what he’s doing? Ever since Tonks made me realise how drop-dead gorgeous Bill is, I-
“If I’m not your brother, what am I then?” He asks, and he searches my eyes for the answer that I don’t even know myself. He isn’t my friend, it feels wrong to say it, and I don’t know what other thing Bill could be for me, but we’ve been friends for a decade now. I answer, “I don’t know.” 
“Friend?” 
“I don’t know.” I repeat, and I look down at the floor, not being able to stand his piercing blue eyes trained on me anymore. His hand grazes my cheek, pushing the hair behind my ear, the contact makes me shoot up to look at his eyes. It feels different, so much more different than any other look we’ve shared before. He adds, “I don’t know either…” 
His hand cups my cheek, and it feels so much more, but what even is more between Bill and I? He brushes his thumb over my cheekbones, and he leans in. My legs part slightly, so he can shift closer. I didn’t even realise what I’d done till he was only a few centimetres away from my face. He looks at me, searching, and then down to my lips. 
My breath hitches, and I can see his chest heave. My lips part under his gaze, and he leans closer. Maybe this is what more means for us? I don’t know what could happen after but I know this-I lift my hand up to encase his wrist. His eyes flicker back to mine, and I say, “You’re never going to be the same to me after this.” 
“You haven’t been the same to me in a while.” His last words before he gives me one last look before he kisses me. 
***
The summer passed by in a blur where it’s nothing but hazy memories of Bill. It’s not a surprise that I spend most of my summer at the Weasleys with my parents working all around the world. The surprise is the way Bill grasps my hand under the table, and the whispers between us are now sweet not taunts and games. 
He would send me cheeky smiles and flirty grins across the room. He would wake me up in the middle of the night and take me from Ginny’s room so we could go watch the stars outside the Burrow, laying on the grass, just like now…
“I can’t believe that we’re about to go back to Hogwarts in two days.” Bill says, as he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me impossibly close to him. Contact has never been unknown between us, but this was entirely new. I run my hands through his long hair, and I sigh, “Yeah, two more years and we’re out of Hogwarts.” 
“Everything will change…” I trail off, scared of what’s to come, when we’re getting real jobs and we’re not sheltered anymore, out to fend for ourselves. Bill looks at me and I can see the stars shine from his eyes, and it’s a mesmerising sight. Bill pecks my lips before saying, “Not us, never us.” 
I smile as he nuzzles his face into my neck, and I wrap my arms around his back. I hope he’s right, I really do hope he is. I don’t know what I could do without Bill. I wonder if his family knows about us, if they feel what’s changed. The only one who does know is poor Percy when he wandered off in the library only to find us snogging in between the bookshelves. 
The other person who knows about us is Charlie but that’s because the boy was smart when it comes to things like these. He noticed the blush on my cheeks first then Bill’s smiles and then one day he dropped his spoon under the table during dinner and he saw our legs intertwined. He didn’t mention it at first until the next day, when he did the same thing on purpose, and he noticed Bill holding my hand. 
He spent the entirety of that week trying to find us doing something. When we were together, he would suddenly burst through the door screaming, ‘AHA!’, and then he’d find us playing cards on the floor. We realised what he was doing early on, but we let him have his fun, until one day, he gave up and burst through the door once again, and said, “Why won’t you guys tell me that you’re dating?” 
I answered first, “Because we aren’t…” 
Bill nodded along, but Charlie looked beyond confused. He questioned us; Do you hold hands? Spend time together? Act all cute and annoying? Kiss each other? Bill replied yes to all of the questions and then Charlie asked us why we weren’t dating already, and I couldn’t help but wonder the same thing as well. 
I run my hands through his hair and I ask, tentatively, “Bill…” 
He hums, and I try to find the courage to ask before it’s all gone and forgotten because I need to know. I try to ask the most dreaded question in the world, in a confident matter like it didn’t matter at all to me what his answer might be, instead I stutter, “I-What are we?” 
He pauses, tenses, a few seconds pass then he lifts his head out of the crook of my neck and he hesitates, “I don’t know.” 
A beat passes, and I press, “I mean, when we go back-to Hogwarts, and some girl asks you out, what will you say?” 
He reaches the hand that was wrapped around my waist and rubs the back of his neck. He replies, “I don’t know.” 
“What if a guy asks me out?” I ask, scanning for answers in his eyes, hoping to elicit a reaction that he would care if he were to share me with someone else, that he’s mine and I am his. He shrugs his shoulders and says, “You’ll just say what you want to say.” 
He puts back his arm around my waist and he puts his face back into the crook of my shoulder. I sigh, unsatisfied with the answer. I place my hands back into his hair and play with the long ginger strands. His breath tickles my neck and he starts planting kisses on my shoulder. He trails them up to my neck and I sigh, contently. He begins to nibble and suckle the skin while I begin to tug on his hair. 
He lowers his hand that’s on my waist, bit by bit till he reaches my butt. He squeezes firmly causing me to gasp and press my hips forward towards him. I feel it, I feel him and Merlin, he’s- His hand trails lower to my thighs and it encourages me to sling my leg around his hip. His mouth moves up to my jaw, and then to my mouth. His tongue slips inside my mouth and he pushes his hips against mine. He groans and I pull away, I ask, “Here?” 
“What if your parents wake up, or someone notices? We can not traumatise someone else like we did with Percy and Charlie-” Bill silences me by pressing his lips against mine and that’s when I feel him start to harden underneath me. I moan as I wrap my legs more firmly around him as I press our hips tightly together. Bill pulls back this time, and he looks over at me, my hair sprawled everywhere and I feel the heat in my face. I press my hands to my cheeks feeling the difference in temperature. I ask, “Is my face red? It feels like it is.” 
Bill smiles and pulls my hands down and kisses me. He replies, “No, it’s perfect.” 
***
Bill Weasley is my first everything, kiss, first time, first whatever this thing was, and first heartbreak even if we technically didn’t stop. I was alright with it, I was because it felt like he was just as into me as I was into him. Just because we didn’t label the thing that we had doesn’t mean that we have to. It’s Bill, and I trust him. 
It was all going alright, more than alright, it was great, there wasn’t a moment that I didn’t spend with him, and I was so sure that I was falling for him, if I hadn’t already. I was on my way to Ancient Runes when I heard Bill’s voice, I perked up, until I heard another female voice with him. I slow down and I overhear the conversation. 
“Do you?” The female voice asks. 
“No, I uh, I don’t.” Bill
“So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” I can hear the grin in her voice
“Nope, I’m single.” 
I feel my eyes well up and I take a few deep breaths willing them away before deciding that I’m going to be taking a different route, and I end up late to class. The thing that I was worried about happened, and ugh, what am I going to do with myself if he does end up getting a girlfriend and it’s not me? 
I avoided Bill like the plague for a week, the only Weasleys I’m speaking to were Charlie and Percy, but even then it hurt, they looked so much like him. I cried more than I’m proud of, and even when Bill did try to talk to me, I would simply just walk away. 
It’s been exactly a week since I overheard Bill and I’m on my way to ancient runes once more. Someone calls my name, and Edgar Bones walks over to me. I wait for him to catch up and he smiles at me with a boyish grin. Bones asks, “You need a walk to class?” 
“Umm, I’m alright.” I reply, and walk on, but Bones follows. He walks along beside me and says, “Well, I’d like to give you one if you don’t mind.” 
I don’t reply and simply make my way to class, hoping that Bill wouldn’t get the wrong idea seeing me and Bones- wait, why should I care about what Bill thinks? He’s not my boyfriend as he’s made it very clear to some girl. I take Bill out of my mind and walk on. Bones walks beside me, an appropriate distance away. Halfway through the walk he looks towards me and asks, “Would you like me to carry your books?” 
“No, I’m alright.” I reply and adjust my bag over my shoulder and the books that are on my arm. I wonder what he might be doing walking me to class. Over the past six years, we’ve only had a few conversations all involving school or Quidditch. Nonetheless, he reaches over and grabs the books out of my arm, and I mumble a thank you at the kind gesture. 
We reach the door of the class, and I stand there. I look around while noticing Bones shuffling on his feet. I decide to be blunt and ask, “Bones, we’ve talked about four times since we’ve known each other, why are you walking me to class and holding my books?” 
“I-uh, I know this is out of the blue for you, but I-” He cuts himself off and looks around nervously. His gaze falls on something behind me and I look around to see McLaggen giving Bones two thumbs up, I look back at Bones confused and he clears his throat. He asks, “Would you like to go out with me?” 
It’s my turn to look around nervous, and shuffle awkwardly on my feet. I reply, “It’s just that we don’t know each other that well.” 
“I was hoping we’d get to do that over some butterbeer.” He says, and I notice the red tint on his cheeks. The silence is tense. I think it over; Bones is quite fit, and he’s one of the smartest people in Hufflepuff, I’ve heard he’s actually quite kind also. Besides, not like anyone is holding me back anymore. I say, “Sure then.” 
He beams and he raises his hand up in a thumbs up, no doubt to show McLaggen, it’s sort of cute, if you think about it. He plans, “How about tomorrow? I’ll pick you up at eleven and we’ll head over to the three broomsticks?” 
“That sounds good.” I say, and he grins. He hands me my books back then says quickly, “Well, I’ve got class in two minutes, so I have to run. I’ll see you tomorrow!” 
He breaks off into a run, McLaggen following behind him, and I head inside class. I sit in the middle beside the wall where I usually sit, and think about this date. I don’t like Bones, but most people don’t have feelings for the person that they’re going on a first date with. After the date is when the feelings pop up. It’s actually nice to be asked out, and not to be kissed once everyday when no one’s watching. 
I was getting excited about the prospect, thinking about what to wear, how to style my hair, when Bill walks in. He looks at me with a deep frown and heads off to sit beside someone else. I expected him to try to talk to me like he has in all of our classes, but he didn’t. He stares out the window for the entirety of class, which is unlike him, especially during the class that made him realise that he wanted to be a cursebreaker. 
I take a few notes, more than I usually do without noticing just in case Bill needed some after class. He would do the same when I would doze off during class or when I was sick. The bell rings and I put my books in my bag and sling it over my shoulder, holding a few on my arm. I barely walk out of class when someone pulls on my bag, pulling me back as well. I say, “Hey!” 
“Is it true?” Bill asks, just as I register that it’s him and not someone that I don’t know. His cheeks are flushed, but in the way that makes him seem agitated. I look at him confused and I ask, “What?” 
“You’re going out on a date with Bones? Is it true?” He asks, and I find myself pursing my lips and avoiding to answer. He runs a hand through his hair frustrated, and then continues, “Cause maybe, you didn’t know it was a date? Did you know?” 
“Can we not do this here?” I ask, when I see people stopping walking around and looking at me and Bill instead. A few whispers follow, and Bill grabs my hand to lead me somewhere more crowded. We stand in front of a large window with the sunlight beaming through and it’s near a hidden alcove where no one comes often. The hallway is empty and Bill doesn’t say anything before he sighs and asks, “Are you really?” 
“Yes.” I reply, and I can see his shoulders fall. He takes a few steps closer to me and asks me, “Did you know it was a date?” 
“Yes, I did, I’m not an idiot.” I snap, and his shoulders tense over and his frown deepens. His stance becomes defensive and he folds his arms over his chest. He says, “Bones is a dick, he just uses girls for sex, and he’s a big jerk.” 
“No, he’s not-” 
“He’s mean to his family and he treats his friends badly-” 
“No! He doesn’t, Bill.” I shout, “Stop making him try to seem like a jerk just so I won’t go out with him.” 
He bites his lip and looks away. His chest is heaving and his jaw clenches. I take a step back and I whisper, “You don’t have a say on who I go out with, you’re not my boyfriend.” 
Bill eyes me for a moment, and I try to stand my ground. He sighs, before turning around and leaving in a huff. I can hear his angry footsteps even after he’s out of my line of sight. 
***
The entire time when I’m getting ready to go out on a date, I think of Bill. Bill always said he liked my hair up, so I’m keeping it down. He liked me in red, so I’m wearing blue, anything to keep him out of my head. It’s my first ever date with a guy who might actually want to be my boyfriend instead of Bill who would kiss me and leave. 
10.55
I walk downstairs and decide to wait the last few minutes outside the common room while I wait for Bones. I’m just about at the end of the stairs when Charlie rushes over to me. “Hi, Honey!” 
“Oh, Hi Charlie.” I wave to him while he walks over to me. He smiles and he walks over to me, way too slowly. He reaches me and asks, “What are you doing dressed up so nice?” 
“Nothing much, Charlie.” I reply, not wanting to tell the boy that things with Bill and I are what they are. He looks me up and down, and narrows his eyes at me. He asks, “Are you going out on a date?” 
10.57
“I uh- yeah.” I say, reluctantly. Charlies purses his lips, thinking. He looks at me, confused. He thinks out loud, “That’s weird, Bill told me that he wasn’t going to Hogsmeade today.” 
“I’m not going with Bill.” I say, and Charlie’s face falls and he’s looking at me with those heartbroken puppy eyes. My heart aches, and I can’t stand it much longer. I rush, “I’ll talk to you later, Charlie.” 
10.58
I look up from my watch as I make it to the door of the common room when a small little redhead steps between me and the door. Percy grins up at me, and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He holds a book out to me and he asks, “Hey, honey! Could you help me with this potions chapter?” 
“Of course, Percy just when I head back, it’s hogsmeade weekend.” I explain and his smile falls. I wonder why I am breaking all of the young Weasley’s hearts today. Percy asks, “Where are you going at Hogsmeade?” 
“I’m not sure you’d know what I’m talking about Percy, you’ve never been there before.” I reply and look back at my watch. 
10.59
“I still wanna know.” Percy insists, and I reply, “I’m going to this place called ‘the three broomsticks’ where I’m going to have some drinks and stuff like butterbeer.” 
Percy nods his head, looking intrigued. He strokes his chin like an old man deep in thought. He says, “Tell me more about it.” 
“I would love to, Percy and I will, but I have to get going now.” I say, and he frowns, I ruffle his hair and try to soften the blow, “But how about, when I get back, after lunch maybe, we can go to the library and I’ll tell you all about it and I’ll help you with potions.” 
He nodded and then quickly ran back up the stairs…weird. I finally open the door to the common room and I see Bones standing a few feet away from the door. He waves to people in our year as he greets them. 
11.00 
I look at my watch and I smile at his punctuality. He grins when he sees me and I offer a polite smile back. I walked over to him and he met me halfway. He tells me that I look pretty and I tell him the same. He loops our arms together and we walk through the castles to where the carriages are being pulled towards Hogsmeade. We talked a little most of the time but a lot at other times. We sat watching the snowfall on the ground from the window. He tells me his favourite season is spring, I tell him mine is autumn. 
He told me how this is his first date and I told him the same. I can tell that he’s itching to ask Bill and I’m dying for him not to. We drink butterbeer and he offers to pay. We talk about our plans and how he wants to be a healer. I tell him that I’m not sure. He said that it’s okay. I smile at him as he tells me that he loves Potions and he does the same when I talk about Arithmancy. 
When we’re in the carriages heading back when there’s about an hour left till lunch, he tells me he’s had a great time and I tell him the same. He pulls his jacket around my shivering arms, and then leans forward to kiss me. I reciprocate and then he tells me that he wants to hold on to the date a little bit more. 
We hop off the carriage and it takes us the better part of an hour to walk back to the castle ourselves. We talk for most of the time, the other half just listening to the sound of our footsteps on the snow. He trips over a branch on the ground and falls face first into the snow. His face leaves an imprint on the snow and I bend over laughing. He throws a snowball at my face, and that’s when the snow fight begins. 
We fall on the ground when he asks if I like Bill, and dreadidly I say yes. He assures me and tells me that he’s still happy to have known me better. We decide that if he’s ever in need of an Arithmancy tutor that he can come to me, and his door is always open when I need help with potions. 
The date ended and it was a good first date even if it didn’t end with a new romantic prospect.  Lunch is almost over, so I grab a few snacks from the Great Hall before heading over to my dorm to change before meeting up with Percy in the library. Charlie stops me as soon as I enter the common room. 
“I need your help!” Charlie exclaims and I get worried very quickly. He drags me by my hand up the staircase to the boy’s dormitories and I hope that the staircases don’t turn into a slide beneath us. He leads me up and up and up the stairs till we reach the fifth year boy’s dorms. Bill’s dorms. On our way there, he asks, “You said Bill doesn’t like alcohol.” 
“He doesn’t.” I reply and Charlie tuts before he opens the door to Bill’s dorm. I smell the alcohol before I see Bill. He’s lying on the floor, with his hand wrapped around a bottle of Firewhiskey. I hear some tiny sobs before walking over to him, falling to my knees in worry. I wave over to Charlie, motioning for him to leave while I take care of Bill. 
Bill beams when he sees me. His hand reaches over to cup my face, and he stutters, “You’re very very pretty, honey.” 
I press a tiny kiss to his forehead to soothe him, and he closes his eyes in momentary bliss and I can see the tears streaks running from under his eyes and over his cheeks. I lean to grasp the bottle of Firewhiskey from his hand, but he tightens his grip over it. He protests, “No!” 
“Come on, Bill. You don’t even like this thing.” I insist and pry the bottle out of his fingers. I put it away on one of his other roommates' nightstands.  Bill frowns, “I know, I know, I just need it today, just today…” 
He lets out a sob, and I push him up so he can sit upright and rub circles on his back. He leans his head on my shoulder and he holds my hand. He sighs softly and I ask, “Why do you need it today, Bill?” 
“Cause you’re o-on a date.” Bill says, and my heart pounds under my chest. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Bill like this. He rambles, “You went out with someone else, you laughed and you went to the three broomstick, and he kissed you-” 
“Wait, you followed me?” I ask, anger bubbling. Bill notices and he quickly lifts his head from my shoulder and looks at me, eyes wide. I still push a strand of his long hair over his eyes. He grasps my head from his face and he chokes out another sob, “I couldn’t help it, I love you!” 
I gasp, and Bill sobs covering his face with his hands. I look away, feeling my eyes water, why couldn’t he feel those emotions when sober? I blink away the tears and I pull him to my chest, and he wraps his arms around me, hugging me tight that I might fear for my ribs. I pet his head and whisper, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” 
“You can’t like him, I love you!” Bill repeats and I can’t help but start to let a few tears slip. Bill shouldn’t be spilling anymore thoughts when he’s like this, especially if they might not be true. I say, “Let’s get you to bed.” 
“Only if you stay.” Bill says, and I nod my head. I help him up and he falls. He starts tripping over his feet, as I lead him to his bed, the one with the photo of his face on the nightstand beside it. I cover him with a blanket and I move away from him. He grabs a hold of my wrist. I reassure him, “I’m only going to get the trash in, just in case you decide to throw up.” 
He nods, and then lets go of my wrist slowly. I grab the trash bin and a glass of water, and set them both beside him. He grabs me again, and he pulls me on top of him. He smiles when he sees my face. He cups my face and rubs his thumb across my cheekbones. It felt nice, like it wasn’t complicated at all. It felt the same way it did during the summer, and I covered his hand with my own. His smile dropped and he asked, “Why did you have to go away?” 
“What are you talking about, Bill?” 
“You haven’t talked to me in a while.” Bill says, and I clear my throat before correcting him, “A week isn’t a while.” 
“A few minutes not talking to you is agony enough.” Bill says, and I sigh. He looks up at me with those bright blue eyes, and his other hand goes to my back, lifting up a slight part of my shirt before settling down on my warm, bare skin. I answer, “You told a girl that you didn’t have a girlfriend.” 
He frowns and purses his lips, thoughts travelling throw them, slower than they would if he were sober. The pieces joining together before his lips part in astonishment. He asks, “You want to be my girlfriend?” 
It takes me a moment. I didn’t know at first, but the feeling of it, of having him call me his, kissing him whenever I can. I still don’t think that would be enough, I want more, so much more than just that. I reply, “I want to be more than that with you Bill.” 
“How?” 
“I don’t know.” 
***
“We’re just so proud of Bill for taking this step forward.” Molly gushes about Bill to me. We’re all sitting at the dinner table just a month into the summer before our seventh and final year. The Gred and Forge, Ginny and Ron are on one side of the table. Arthur sits at the head at the table Charlie opposite to him while Molly sits next to Bill who sits next to me. 
None of the kids care about the conversation, just eating little chicken nuggets and some fries with chocolate milkshakes, playing with each other. As Fred and George tell eachother jokes, while Ron munches on his food. Ginny just plays with her hair trying to braid tiny strands of it without looking. 
Charlie is just rolling her eyes at how much Molly is gushing about Bill, while Bill flushes trying to get her to stop, embarrassed. Arthur is making sure that Fred and George don’t set the table on fire, due to previous experiences. Molly says one thing that peaks my interest, “I mean taking an internship that could lead to a job in Egypt, obviously he’ll visit a lot-” 
“What internship?” I cut Molly off asking, tense, and the table went silent. I look at Bill questioningly. Bill swallows his last bit of food before turning to look at me. Molly exclaims, “Oh, I’ve said something wrong, Haven’t I? I’m sorry.” 
“No, it’s alright, Molly.” I reassure her from behind Bill, while he pets his mother’s arm. Bill clears his throat and looks at me explaining, “I didn’t take it, I still have to get accepted.” 
“In Egypt?” I ask, frowning at the far off place, in an entirely different continent. He says softly, “Yeah.” 
“It’s a curse breaking internship, and who knows maybe I’ll be working there around tombs and mummies and-” Bill explains, and I question, “And you’re just going?” 
“If I get accepted-” 
“And you’re gonna leave.” I point out, and he looks around awkwardly as Ginny starts asking Arthur where Bill is going and why he’s leaving. Molly and Aurthur usher everyone out of the dinning area just leaving Bill and I there. We sit in silence, and I don’t know where to even start. Don’t go, stay. How could you leave? I start, “Were you going to tell me about this?” 
“I didn’t want to tell you before I got it, would’ve been a lot of worry for nothing.” Bill says, and I turn around my chair to face him. He does the same. Our knees touching and legs intertwined. I ask, “And if you get it?” 
I wait for his answer as he looks down at the ground and I put my hand out grabbing his hand in mine. I play with his hand with both of mine and I place it on my lap. HE stays silent and I ask, “Would you go?”
“I-I don’t know, probably.” Bill says, and I feel pieces of my heart start to crack off. My hold on his hand tightens and I question, “What about your family? I’m sure Molly needs a helping hand around here. Charlie and Percy need their older brother, Who’s gonna keep Fred and George in line? Ron looks up to you, and Ginny loves you so much-” 
Bill cuts me off with a strong kiss on my lips while his hand encases my face. It’s the first one in a while and I relish in it. When Bill woke up after my date, he couldn’t remember anything but through a heated discussion we decided to take a few steps back. He was just my friend again. I hold his face in between my hands, and I whisper softly, “I need you to stay.” 
Bill places some more kisses onto my face and he hugs me tightly. I pull him closer, and think of how he could go. Go and be so far away. I ask from the crook of his neck, “How long would this internship be?” 
“A year.” 
“That’s not a long time…” I convince myself and him. He grabs my waist tighter and he says, “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure that I won’t get it.” 
But he did. 
***
After a year of not seeing Bill, my first year working as the new professor of Arithmancy at Hogwarts, I might as well be jumping off the walls, bursting from excitement just to see him again. We had spent our seventh year in agony waiting to see if he got the internship or not, and when he did, I spent the last of the year, holding onto him until he had to leave. 
He didn’t kiss me once that year, except when we were on the train for the last time, heading back to platform 9 ¾ . We stayed as we were, except I stayed true to my word. I couldn’t see him as simply my friend anymore. Whenever he hugged me I wanted to savour that feeling forever. When he talked I wished I could listen to him talk forever and have those lips on mine. When he held Ginny and played with her hair, braiding it, I couldn’t help but picture a future like this, with him. 
When he came back, flew in through the Floo network from the ministry, I wasted no second in running towards him and wrapping my arms around his neck. The sounds of his siblings cheer loudly and they push me aside to hug their brother, and I chuckle at their love for him.
He flicks Fred and George’s hair telling them to stop getting so tall or they might catch up to him. He tells Ginny that she’s still as beautiful as ever, and for Ron to set up the wizarding chess board for a game later tonight. He asks Percy to get all his books ready so he can tell him an in depth description about all of them, and for Charlie to start stretching so he can beat his ass in quidditch. All the while, he shoots me looks from over their shoulders. 
Molly kisses her son and scolds him for not writing more often, he tells her that there simply wasn’t enough time, and then Molly, ushers everyone out. I stare at Bill and notice how his arms got larger and he became more chiselled (if possible), I point to the most notable difference. I point to his hair that’s currently in a low bun, making him look so very handsome. I ask, “You grew your hair.” 
“Yeah, Mom’s already begged me to cut it twice already.” He chuckles, and I take a few steps forwards towards him. I hug him and put my arms around his neck, and he moves his head to kiss me instead. Kissing me hard, and passionately. It takes me by surprise and I gasp, “Bill, what?” 
I don’t get a chance as his lips are back on mine, kissing me harder. I chuckle at his intent, and he wraps his arms around me. Our chests pressed against each other. I breathe him in deeply, and I realise how much I missed him. Every little thing about him too. I pull away to breathe and Bill chases after my lips. That’s when I realise something’s wrong. He’s kissing me because he needs to, he’s holding onto me. 
“They’ve given me the job full time-” Bill says and I immediately frown. I start, “I-” 
He cuts me off with another powerful kiss and another few seconds of silence where I can hear my heartbeats in my ears due to the lack of oxygen. It felt so blissful despite the ache in my chest because of the lack of air and Bill’s words. Bill starts, “They want me to take the job and move their full time-” 
“Bill-” 
“But I won’t go, if you ask me to stay.” Bill finishes, and I’m struck by his words. He pecks my lips once more, and I’m left reeling with all this information. I smile, bittersweetly, “You got your dream job…” 
“But it’s so far away.” I say, and he nods his head. He pulls my hands in his and he can already feel where I’m going with this. He rants, “You asked me what we are, and I said I don’t know, I never knew, but now I do.” 
“You can’t turn down your dream-” 
“I know now, I know that I want you, and that I love you, and if you tell me to stay I will. I’ll stay, just tell me to. Tell me that you’ll be mine.” Bill says and he lifts his hands to cup my face, looking at me as if I was the most precious thing in his life, but I’m not. He says, “I never wanted to tell you because I was an idiot, an idiot who was scared that you didn’t want him, an idiot who thought that he would lose you, if he told you he loved you.” 
I counter, “This is your dream, Bill. Your future, what you’ve always wanted-”
“No, you’re my future and I’m sorry that I didn’t know it before, but I do know. Ask me to stay, please.” he begs, and I pull his hands down. I look at him cause this might just be one of the few times that I’m going to see him for a long time. I’ve long had the image of his face pressed into my mind. I need to make sure that it withstands the test of time. I reason, “I-I’m not going to make this decision for you by asking you to stay, you might regret as time goes on-” 
“I can never regret you.” 
“I’m not going to stand in the way of this opportunity for you…you need to make it by yourself. And I’ve always been yours…” I trail off, and press a kiss on his lips. He looks at me dejected and helpless. I say, “Now, let’s go back in, your family’s waiting for you.”
***
Bill’s heading to the ministry any second now to head to the Floo network so he can go to Egypt. His family is going with him, so they can watch him Floo away, and they asked me to come, but I couldn’t because seeing his face before he goes, I might do something stupid like ask him to stay just for me, or maybe go to Egypt right with him. 
Molly said she’d come and see me after, they all will definitely be in need of a hug, especially Ginny who’s not going to bear being the only one at the Burrow anymore. I prepared a lot of food for everyone to come and get while they all cope with having Bill move away. I’m not sure I’ve copped myself, I don’t think I ever will. 
Knocks echo on my door, and I wave my wand pulling the food out on the table that I’ve arranged mishapely to gather enough chairs for the entire family. I arrange a few more things with the flick of my wand and I realise that I’ve forgotten the cups. I head over to the cupboard, and I flick my wand over to the door, making it fly open. 
“Just let yourself in Molly, I’m just putting down the cups!” I pull out eight cups and I hold them in my arms haphazardly, I make my way to the table and start arranging them. I put down all the cups, until there’s two left- “I’m not Molly.” 
I looked over my shoulder to where Bill was standing, bags at hand. He smiles at me and I smile back. I look at the clock, and I say, “Couldn’t do without a goodbye? But you’ll miss your Floo time, and you have to go where you’re supposed to-” 
“I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” Bill says, and my bittersweet smile drops. I look at him questioningly. He couldn’t possibly mean- He answers my thoughts, “I’m not going.” 
He sets his bags down and I put the last two cups randomly on the table. I fiddle with my fingers anxiously. I say, “I don’t want you to throw away your dream for me.” 
“It’s more like picking one dream over the other.” Bill says, still standing by the door. He continues, “I want to be a cursebreaker, and I still can be here in England, but I can’t have the life I always wanted with you if I’m miles away, and that’s what I want more than anything.” 
It’s the last of the confirmation that I need before heading over to him, rushing into his arms, as he finally holds me, and he whispers that he loves me. He kisses me and I forget to brace myself over how dizzy and giddy he makes me, finally as my own.
a/n: hope you liked it!
137 notes · View notes
captainsophiestark · 11 months ago
Text
Slow Dancing In A Burning Room
Bill Weasley x Reader
Tumblr media
Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic every Friday, all year long :)
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: Bill Weasley and his new wife have their wedding reception interrupted by Death Eaters and news of the Ministry falling. Things look bleak when they escape to Shell Cottage, but they find a way to keep each other going.
Word Count: 1,015
Category: Angst, Fluff
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
Weddings were supposed to be happy. They were supposed to be joyful celebrations, with all the people who mattered most. Even in the midst of a brewing war, I thought Bill and I would get that. One night of a break before returning our attention to all the terrible things going on in the world.
I guess I should've known better.
One minute, I was twirling across the dancefloor in the arms of my new husband, sharing a smile as the rest of the world faded away. In that moment, despite everything going on outside of our wedding, the world felt perfect.
The next minute, a glowing lynx had burst through the ceiling and into the middle of the dancefloor, announcing the fall of the Ministry of Magic and the death of the Minister along with it. The reception descended into chaos, people screaming and running as the protective enchantments around the giant tent fell one by one. It had been absolute chaos, and I barley remembered Bill grabbing my hand and getting us both out of there as the Death Eaters arrived.
Now, I sat on the sofa in Shell Cottage, where we were supposed to start our honeymoon. The place had glowed with warmth and coziness the first time we'd visited, but now it seemed all too dark, cold, and deserted.
"I just let my dad know we're alright," Bill said, coming back into the living room. He'd stepped outside to send a Patronus to his dad, to make sure the family wouldn't worry about us. "Hopefully we'll hear back from him soon."
I nodded, a little numbly, as my new husband crossed the room and waved his wand to start a fire in the fireplace. Once he'd finished, he came to sit next to me on the couch. We both stayed there for a few long moments, shoulder to shoulder and staring into the flames. I have no idea how long we would've stayed there on our own, but another glowing Patronus shot into the room not much later, this one the familiar shape of a weasel.
Bill's dad's voice came from the Patronus to tell us the rest of the family was safe, and that they'd be in touch when they could. A bit of the weight lifted off my chest, but a lot of it still remained. As the light of the Patronus and Arthur's voice faded, the darkness crept back in, despite the fire.
"Y/N?" I looked up to see Bill's concerned face. "Love, you're crying."
I raised a hand to my cheek to find he was right. Tears were streaming down my face, and the second I was forced to recognize it, a dam broke inside me.
I fell forward into Bill's chest as I sobbed, and he wrapped his arms around me. He held me tight, rubbing one hand soothingly up and down my back.
"It's going to be alright," he muttered into my hair, his own voice miraculously calm. I just cried harder.
"How can you say that, Bill?" I wailed. "We almost got killed at our own wedding, and now the Ministry has completely fallen. How can you possibly say that we're going to make it through this alright?"
He took a deep, shaky breath, then gently pulled me back from him enough that he could look me in the eye. His eyes shone and his eyebrows were furrowed, mirroring the distress I felt. But there was a grim set to the line of his mouth that signaled a quiet, unbreakable determination.
"We will make it through this," he promised. He gripped my shoulders a little tighter, leaning in until we were almost nose to nose. "We will get to our happy ending, no matter what."
I laughed a little through the tears, Bill's absolute conviction so ridiculous it brought a smile to my face.
"How can you be so sure?" I asked. He grinned.
"Because it's us. We just got married. That means we're a team, for the rest of our lives, against anything else the world wants to throw at us. And I happen to know that we make a fantastic team. I personally pity anyone who bets against us."
I giggled again, leaning into Bill as he leaned into me. No one else in the world could've lifted my spirits in this moment, other than the man sitting beside me. Which, of course, was no small part of the reason I'd married him.
"Come on," Bill said after a minute, standing and holding out his hand to me. "I believe we were in the middle of something before those bastards crashed our wedding."
I shook my head, still smiling anyway as I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. Still in my wedding dress, and with Bill still in his suit, we came together in the middle of the living room in Shell Cottage to finish the slow dance that had been interrupted. His arms wrapped tightly around me and I rested my head on his chest while the last of the tears dried on my face.
"You're right," I mumbled, my voice barely loud enough for him to hear. "You're right, we will get through this. And I'll personally make sure anyone who tries to hurt us comes to regret it."
Bill huffed a laugh and tightened his arms around me.
"I have absolutely no doubts about that."
I pulled back to smile into the face of the man I loved, and after a moment, he leaned in and kissed me. We stayed like that for a long time, swaying in the middle of our living room, kissing occasionally, but mostly just enjoying the fact that we were still here, together and whole, after everything that had happened.
In the warm, flickering glow of the firelight, the darkness of the cottage started to regain its cozy feeling, and a tiny spark of joy for the thought of the future rekindled itself in my chest.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989
Harry Potter Taglist: @valkyriepirate
198 notes · View notes
snifellus · 9 months ago
Text
<check my blog for more>
Tumblr media
182 notes · View notes
frost-queen · 1 year ago
Text
Flavored sweets (Reader!Potter x Fred Weasley)
Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia,  @elllie-does-the-posts, @alex--awesome--22 @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @imagines-by-her, @vviolynn, @melsunshine,  @evilcr0ne, @callsignwidow, @whotfskai, @freddieweasleysgf, @untoldshortsofthefandoms
Summary: Unlike what everyone thinks didn't Fred and you meet in the train. Rather meeting him at Honeyduke's near the last box of different flavored beans before school even began.
Tumblr media
Wrapping paper ripped. Filling the table with a mess as the gifts got revealed. Fred and George pulled out a scarf putting it around their neck. – “Just what I wanted mother.” – George said teasingly with a smirk. Molly slapped him against the head with the wizarding gazette. – “Au I was merely showing you my gratitude.” – George responded rubbing his head. – “I know you well enough to know when you are joking.” – Molly spoke with a glare at him. George turned to look at his brother with a funny face.
Fred pulled his shoulders up, not getting involved in it. Hermione who sat beside Fred came leaning forwards to look at George. – “I’ll take it if you don’t want it.” – Hermione said knowing how much effort Molly had put in those clothing. George smiled funnily at her. – “You’ll get one for yourself.” – he responded receiving another slap against his head with the gazette.
“Au what was that for?” – He asked confused, holding his head. Molly glared at him, a hand on her hip. – “I was just…” – he continued as Ginny giggled across the table. Molly’s scowl intensified as Fred patted his brother on the shoulder. – “Shall we move on to the next present?” – he said trying to change the subject. Molly clasped her hands in delight. She turned round to fetch some presents. – “Nice handling son.” – Arthur said sitting at the head of the table.
Harry smiled sheepishly beside Ron, who was stuffing his mouth with sweets. Fred locked eyes with you across from him, giving you a wink. It made you smile bashful. Molly returned with two gifts, one in each hand. – “These are for Fred and Y/n.” – she said placing one down in front of you and him. – “Let me guess a pair of mittens?” – George joked out. Ginny plucked the wizarding gazette from the table, hitting at George. – “Au! Why did I deserve that?” – he asked her loudly as she had hit his arm.
“I think you know.” – Ginny answered. – “I should be really careful of your next words.” – Hermione warned him knowing if he kept being so jokingly he would be hit more times. – “You shouldn’t have done this Misses Weasley.” – you said with a warm smile. – “Oh nonsense you are practically family Y/n.” – she said bashful feeling her cheeks warm up.
You shared a look with Fred full of love and mischief. With one nod, ripped you the wrapping off it. Fred and you working as fast as you could. Wrapping paper flying up eager to know what you had. You gasped at the sweater taking it out to admire it. Turning it around, you showed it to Fred as he showed you yours. – “You better keep that mouth of yours closed.” – Hermione spoke with a hint at George as a warning. George swallowed his teasing words back in, leaning back in his chair. – “Put it on! Put it on!” – Ginny chanted.
Fred and you got up putting on the sweater. It was a matching sweater. – “Stand next to each other.” – Hermione asked waving Fred over to you. Fred went round the table wrapping an arm around your waist. – “Well mother what do you think?” – he asked presenting himself and you to her. Molly smiled proudly feeling sentimental. – “It looks just perfect.” – Arthur commented. Fred kissed your cheek making you smile. – “I still find it sweet how you first met each other at the train.” – Hermione talked about.
Fred and you frowned. – “That is not where we first met.” – you told her. Everyone looked surprised at the both of you. – “It is not?” – Ron asked with his mouth stuffed. You shook your head. – “But I thought…” – Ginny started furrowing her brows. – “How come I don’t know any of this?” – George had crossed his arms, bumped out that even he didn’t know. Fred slid his arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer.
“Now I am very curious.” – Molly spoke coming to sit down. – “Me too.” – Harry pitched in looking questionable at you. – “Shall we tell them love?” – Fred asked you. You hummed thoughtfully. – “Please, please do.” – Hermione and Ginny begged. – “Are you sure it wasn’t at the train?” – Harry questioned. You nodded. – “It was before that.” – you explained to your brother. Fred took a deep breath. – “Alright we’ll tell you.”
Diagon alley was crowded. Young witches and wizards eager to get their school supplies. Harry and you still being in awe and shock of what was happening around you. A witch in a green pointy hat passed you, her books floating behind her. It made you gawk at her, pausing for a moment to stare. Hagrid nudged you gently against the shoulder. – “Stick with me Y/n.” – he said. You nodded taking his big hand and tagging along. – “Hagrid I can hardly understand half of this list.” – Harry said looking at the school supply list.
Hagrid took the list from Harry taking a look at it for himself. – “It isn’t that hard to read.” – he spoke making you laugh. – “Here you hold onto it Y/n.” – he moved the list down for you to take. You read the list, mouth falling open. – “Can we truly pick a pet for school?” – you asked him excitedly. Hagrid hummed loud. – “We’ve never been allowed any pets. This is exciting isn’t it Harry.” – you leaned forwards to look around Hagrid over to your brother.
“What pet should I get?” – you wondered. You felt Hagrid’s hand on your back, gently pushing you a bit faster. – “What do you think of a cat? Hagrid would a cat be nice?” – you asked him. – “Oh I don’t know missy but a dragon! A dragon would be a fine pet.” – Hagrid said with a glimmer in his eyes.
You snorted loud. – “I don’t think the school would be pleased as we come with a dragon to school.” – you chuckled out. – “You are right.” – Hagrid replied pushing you closer to him when a group of wizards passed. The three of you bought a few items from the list as some hours had passed. You sat on a bench kicking your feet back and forth while Hagrid was standing before a window shop with Harry. Admiring a broom. Looking around at the shops, your stomach started to growl at the sign of one of them. Honeyduke’s.
“Hmm sweets.” – you water-mouthed. You got up heading over to Hagrid and Harry. You tugged at Hagrid’s jacket for his attention. Hagrid turned around bending over to be closer to you. – “Yes Y/n.” – he said. You pointed to a shop not far away. – “Can I go buy some sweets?” – you asked nervously. – “I’m feeling a bit hungry.” – grabbing your stomach you felt it growl again. Hagrid looked over his shoulder to Harry still admiring the broom.
“I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight.” – he muttered stroking his beard. – “I won’t be long, and I’ll bring you something along.” – you persuaded as you really craved some sweets. Harry turned round to you. – “It will be fine Hagrid. We can look in the meantime inside.” – Harry tugged Hagrid on his sleeve. – “But…but…” – Hagrid was a bit confused of what to do.
“I’ll be right back.” – you told him as Harry pulled Hagrid inside with him. – “See you in a bit.” – Harry waved you goodbye for now. You ran over to the shop with eagerness. Honeyduke’s being the most colorful shop you had ever seen. The little bell above the door rang as you entered. The scent of sweets filling your nostrils with a sugar rush. Immediately you had the desire to buy everything. Never having had the opportunity to do so.
You rushed over to some lollipops plucking one from the basket. Admiring it hesitantly. Something else caught your eye as you placed the lollipop back. Picking up a little box you observed it. – “A chocolate frog?” – you whispered to yourself. The idea of a real frog made you shudder and put it back. In this world of magic anything was possible. Heading towards some rows with shelves filled with sweets, you left the chocolate frogs for what they were.
You stopped and observed several types of sweets. There was so much choice you felt a bit overwhelmed. So much to choose from. You wanted to buy so many things yet at the same time you were hesitant to do so. What if you didn’t like them and wasted your money on it. Setting a box of sweet worms back you wandered a bit further down the rows.
Taking a turn, heading into another row, you spotted a large box. Just one of them left. It seemed interesting as you went over to it. Near the box you bumped into someone. – “Oh sorry.” – you said panickily. The boy with ginger hair and a goofy smile chuckled sheepishly. – “It’s alright.” – he answered. Both of you left it for what it was, reaching for the box. Your hands touched right in front of the box, making you blink startled at it.
The boy turned back to you laughing loud. – “It seems we want the same thing.” – he said rubbing the back of his head. You smiled shyly back. – “You ca…” – you started wanting to offer it to him as he beat you to it. – “It’s yours.” – he blurted out. You stared stunned at him. The boy picked up the box handing it over to you. You accepted it shyly. – “it’s a great box! It has all the great flavored beans.” – he explained.
You opened the box holding it out to him. – “Take your pick.” – you offered. The boy laughed shyly. He stuck his hand in the box, grabbing for a flavored bean. – “I’m Fred Weasley.” – he said as you took one out for yourself. – “Y/n Potter.” – you answered before putting the bean in your mouth. It tasted funny as Fred could tell from your face. – “How does it taste Y/n?” – he asked you. You stuck up a thumb still getting used to the flavor.
Fred followed you to the cashier as you bought the box of flavored beans. – “I hope to see you around Y/n Potter.” – Fred called out saying his goodbye to you outside. – “You too Fred Weasley.” – you said waving back at him. Heading back to your brother and Hagrid you felt a flutter in your stomach after meeting him.
----------------------------------------------
Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  
274 notes · View notes
stashandtell · 2 months ago
Text
Nobody Asked For This: My Rankings of the Hermione x Weasley Ships with REASONS
I drafted this weeks ago and had set it aside with no clear plan to publish it. Then, after a stroke of 2 AM genius this morning, I wrote a piece called Ranking the Weasleys, (to be posted on 19 Sept 2024 in honor of Hermione's birthday) and it seemed like a great time to finalize this post and share it. Feel free to tell me your rankings in the comments, be it your list of the fittest Weasley as you find them or your ranked-list of pairings with Weasleys, whatever you fancy to share. Enjoy! - - - - I made a loooong post with recs for each of my top Hermione/Weasley ships that you can check out here. Read Ranking the Weasleys or see the related post where I talk about writing Ranking the Weasleys and I share just a few initial thoughts on the fetishization of war wounds in the fandom here. - - - - I've recently dove into the world of Hermione x Any-Of-The-Weasley-Brothers pairings, which is what happens when you're burnt out on the regular ships you read and looking for something more. Personally, I'm surprised I gravitate towards so many Hermione-focused pairings, especially het pairings, but that's just what I've been into lately. I hadn't considered pairings with her and any of the Weasleys until someone recommended Charmione fics in a thread for Theomione. Once I dug into the fandom's characterizations of the Weasley brood and had a better sense of who each of them were on their own, I found I really like many of these ships, some more than others. The rankings of my top-three rotate pretty regularly depending on the last great fic I've devoured. This is a snapshot of where things stand today but it could move around. Before we dive in, I've preview my rankings and the major themes of the pairings in the most popular fics shipping Hermione with a Weasley. 1. Bill: Wolf-ish Daddy 2. Fred: Uplifting, Fun, and Romantic 3. Charlie: Sexy and Rugged 4. George: Growing Through Grief 5. Percy: Acceptance of Self, Also Rules Daddy 6. Ginny: A Firecracker and a Friend 7. Ron: Angsty Best Friends-to-Lovers 8. Gideon or Fabian: Time Travel AU or Ghost Lover(s) 9. Arthur or Molly: I haven't read these ships so they're going in the bottom of the list. I'm not opposed to reading these pairings but there's already such a trove with all the brothers in my tbr list that I'm not sure I'll ever dive in. 10. Weasley Progeny: I haven't read any of these ships. I have not read many pairings that include anyone dating their friends' kid in the next generation. (Though I have read a small number of fics pairing characters like Hermione or Ginny with older characters like Kingsley or Sirius...shoutout to the older/younger Nottcissa ship.) 11. Aunt Murial: Technically she's a Prewett but I think I would be into a Murmione ship if we got there. So far nothing comes up on AO3. - - - - 1. Billmione: What I love about a Hermione x Bill dynamic is his position as oldest-sibling and caretaker. If the author has resolved the relationship with Fleur as one that has ended in divorce or death, that extra element of emotional tenderness really can push the story to complex depths. I also find it interesting to see how writers engage with Bill's hybrid/half-werewolf affliction. I'm hard-pressed to really fall in love with any Billmione fic where their relationship starts pre-Battle of Hogwarts, though I do get it. I personally enjoy stories that can be canon compliant so I want to see how the Fleur issue is handled. I also find that with such a significant age-gap for that developmental stage of teenager-dom, (not like Fleur was THAT much older than Hermione but still...), it's incredibly rewarding to see an older Hermione that brings some kind of life experience to the relationship so she can be more equal with Bill.
In some of the fics, especially a few of the multi-Weasley, reverse-harem style pieces I've finally started reading, Bill's older-brother position and wolfy streak create the core dynamic of the group.
I'm not the biggest fan of the multi-Weasley pairings with Hermione but what I loved most in the standout fics are the group dynamics and individual roles that come out. Hermione can be incredibly stubborn and independent on her own and it's always interesting when she's in opposition to Bill to see how the others in their relationship choose sides.
- - - - 2. Fremione: On it's face, I don't even know if I like this ship all that much but I keep finding myself suckered in. I suspect a big part of it is that it hits me in the sentimental feels. My inner-teen just loves a Hermione x Fred story that traces their young love to whatever conclusion the author brings it to. Even if they get together when they're older and Fred lives through the final battle, they both usually end up with a friends-to-lovers scenario that's full of light sweetness and sometimes romance.
There are some truly fantastic works in this ship and I go 50/50 on whether I prefer ones where Fred lives or not. Depends on my mood and the tone of the story I suppose. There are very few stories in this pairing that I haven't enjoyed and the element of pranking really can make shorter fics fun.
I REALLY enjoy past Hermione/Fred relationships being included in fics where she looks back on their love fondly while she navigates new relationships, sometimes with one of his brothers. Fred is often portrayed as a goof, which seems to encourage authors to consistently write a more engaging and dynamic version of Hermione instead of following some of the fanon's (beloved by me as well) personality tropes/traps of her being insecure, slow-to-assert-herself, angry-broken-or-both and etc. His character brings out some of her best qualities consistently across fics, imo.
- - - - 3. Charmione: I quickly realized when I started reading Charmione fanfics that I do not give a shit about dragons but deeply wish I did. It's a cool plot device and part of the world to hang out with but it's not for me. Tons of appreciation for writers who have thoughtful plot lines and research interesting medical maladies-- but it's hard to hold my interest. (A million kudos when a dragon-centered fic does though!) The Reserve is usually full of original characters, which is fine, but I find myself less invested in the story if we don't know much about these OCs to build out that world.
I often find in the dragon-reserve heavy pieces that I was getting part-way through were objectively GOOD multi-chapters but I kept stalling out in favor of reading something else. Usually whenever there's a Hermione that ends up at the dragon Reserve, she's characterized by her unyielding passions for creatures' rights, spurred on by house elf and werewolf activism. Those are interesting characterizations for her but they just don't keep my attention. That said, I have yet, to date DNF'd any Charmione work so clearly it's not a huge imposition. That said, Charmione is in the top third because there's so much that can be done with this character. I've read a number of fics where Charlie is ace (asexual, demisexual, etc.); where's he's inexperienced because he's married to his job; where he's "too free-spirited" and very experienced; where he's enthusiastically bisexual; where he's not interested in marriage; where he's pining over Tonks; and so much more. His sporadic attendance at family holidays and the ability for Hermione or others to visit him on the Reserve lends to great plot opportunities.
- - - - 4. Geormione: I haven't been around long enough to fully understand why Fremione is a more popular ship than Geormione, but here are some observations: - Fred is portrayed in the fandom as the more loveable, airy goof while George tends to be painted as the more serious and quiet of the two - Generally, in the canon, Fred speaks more than George, from what I've been seeing, as I notate up my secondhand copies of the books - Fred's death or, depending on the fic, brush-with-death, is ripe for the reimagining of his relationships and personality - According to internet gossip, Hermione with Fred were considered for pairing in the canon originally but it didn't suit the overall plans for the series. Source for this can not be verified but it's come up in multiple places. I believe this contributes to the numbers: Fremione has 2182 works and Geormione has 548 works on AO3, as I draft this. All that said, George is usually characterized as the quieter and possibly more serious twin. He might be more shy than the outgoing Fred. Post-war, he often mourns the loss of his twin brother, his best friend, and his sense of himself as part of the pair which can, frankly, be kind of a drag if a writer is looking for a pairing to write a hot romance about. (Not that people can't be sexy or have healthy sexual relationships while grieving!) However, when works take the journey to establish Hermione and George, it's often incredibly rewarding. It tends to feel like Fremione with the temperature turned down on the lightness and has the ability to go deeper into any darkness that needs to be explored. I do love a Geormione but there are statistically fewer works out there than some of the other pairings, thus it's earned it's spot mid-tier. - - - - 5. Permione: There's not much to say because there aren't that many longer fics with this pairing written and most times it's tied to a Hermione x Multi-Weasley scenario. This gets the 5th and some days I would rank it higher because there are worlds in which this is the actual correct pairing of all of the brothers, based on what we can surmise from the canon.
A swotty, uptight prefect-turned-Ministry drone with a regretful heart of gold, Percy's guilt over abandoning his family and Fred dying before him is well-matched for how many writers imagine Hermione's coping with the aftermath of the war. Hermione would have known him during some prime formative years and knows he'll date muggle-born or half-blood witches, a la Penelope Clearwater. It's easy to dismiss Percy as being "not fanciable" if you don't read this ship but some of the writers out there make a compelling case for him, particularly when they make a logical transition from his personal fastidiousness to him seeking to play with control and BDSM elements in his private affairs. I love a good Permione piece. He's often positioned as the conservative punching bag of the family and it's a thing of art when a writer makes us root hard for him.
- - - - 6. Herminny: I haven't much of anything in this pairing yet. Truthfully, I've been holding off on it because I'm sure I'll do a deep dive once I start. It shouldn't come as a surprise that I've read almost no Harmony works either. I love a F/F fic but tend to read in waves and I've been working my way through the Weasley brothers pairings (when I'm not refreshing for Nevmione and Theomione works.) If you have any excellent recs for Herminny or other pairings name, please drop me a line! The reason Herminny is above Romione is because I love many of the fanon characterizations of Ginny in all the other fics I've read, especially when she's mischievous, cheeky, in tune with her sexuality, and ready to take on her own adventures in the world. The ones I have read where she and Hermione have been together were lovely but most were very short fics in collections. - - - - 7. Romione: I read A LOT of Hermione-centered works and authors very often find a need to resolve the young romance with Ron or use him and their relationship as a catalyst that propels our heroine down a path into the arms of another man. I can honestly say that I have read ZERO Romione endgame fics to date, and that includes one shots AND drabbles (~100k words or less.) WILD, right?
I really enjoy angst and Ron is one of the punching bags most often leaned on by writers. One of these days, I'm going to go on a Romione bender as an offering of penance to his character for all of the times I rooted against him in every other fic.
- - - - 8. Lowest Tier: I have never read a Hermione x Molly nor an Hermione x Arthur fic, and while I'm not fundamentally opposed, I'd be flabbergasted to find either pairing beating Romione. I'd much sooner read an Arthur/Molly fic than one that ships either with Hermione because that's just where I'm at right now. I'm happy reading works that aren't smutty in any way but damn if some smut doesn't help along a work that really isn't capturing my interest. While I love when I see versions of Arthur and Molly who are loving friends and/or parental figures to Hermione, the angst-lover in me doesn't mind a solid bashing of either of them and it's hard to get that out of my head. As for the other possible pairs with Hermione and Gideon, Fabian, Murial, or the children of the other Weasleys, I'm just not well-read enough in any of those pairings to have an opinion. I literally only started reading Marauders-era works two weeks ago (and really ONLY well-known Wolfstar fics so far.) A Note About Fleur: One character who's excluded from this list is Fleur Weasley nee' Delacour. I've only read triad- or multi-Weasley fics that put Hermione with her and Bill. While I do love a Bill/Fleur/Hermione work, it seemed disingenuous to rank Fleurmione against the others with what little I've read. That and I'm so clearly jazzed about a Billmione where Bill's free-and-clear to be with whoever, that my ranking of Fleurmione would be heavily biased.
26 notes · View notes
allthesmutl0vers · 2 months ago
Text
Oh Arthur. 😂
Tumblr media
22 notes · View notes
pascaloverx · 7 months ago
Text
To Begin Again
FOUR
Summary: You're a new teacher at a large and influential school. It's a risky step for you, as you've been running from your ex for almost two years. But when Dumbledore asks you to take on a class at the renowned Hogwarts, you can't refuse. However, your life as a newly arrived teacher won't be easy. Especially when the other teachers don't seem eager to make friends. Or rather, two teachers in particular: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.
Author's Note: Welcome, dear readers. Please leave your comments if you enjoy fanfiction. This fanfic takes place almost in the real world (with the addition of werewolves) and is not a wizarding fanfic. There will be some differences and changes in things from the Harry Potter story or other fanfics in the HP universe, but I promise to do my best writing this fanfic. There will be a love triangle coming in this fanfic.
THREE FIVE
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You had a date with two men, two men who stood you up, didn't even bother to send a smoke signal to cancel everything. The worst part is that you got all dressed up, put on a nice dress and everything. How infuriating. And just as you're about to lie down on the bed and turn on the TV to try to forget the pathetic situation you find yourself in, someone knocks on your door.
"So, the idiot here and I are going to the bar on the other side of the forest to have some beers. As uninteresting as you may seem, it's worth giving you a chance to at least do something fun. What do you think?" Bellatrix asks as she leans abruptly against the corridor wall. Peter is standing beside her, looking uncomfortable at being called an idiot but much more focused on looking at you as if he wants to uncover your secrets.
"I think that's a rather rude way to ask someone if they want to go have a beer with you, but at the moment, my options are either to go with you or put on my pajamas, and I think it's worth giving you guys a chance." You say, grabbing your bag and then locking the door to your room. When you turn around, Peter looks at you as if you were some kind of different creature. A look that seems to mix curiosity with a sort of dread.
"Deep down, I know you want to go out with us because you don't want to be in the middle of what's going on between Remus and Sirius. Believe me, I know how you feel. Hogwarts doesn't offer many options for relationships, so sometimes I tried to have something casual with Remus or even with my boring cousin, but Sirius is simply… nothing is more important to those two than their relationship. So my advice is to stay away from them. Or at least don't have feelings for them. But if you do, be prepared." Bellatrix speaks as if she just wants to gossip about something or influence you even a little bit. You, who are walking beside her while Peter walks ahead of the two, don't know what to think. After all, you're a stranger. You can't demand anything from anyone.
"Danger, danger is all you'll get with Lupin. If you survive, you'll come out marked forever." Peter turns to you and says this. His body language seems to indicate that he's nervous, as if he's warning you of an impending attack. Bellatrix looks at him with a disapproving and almost furious look. You don't understand anything, but something inside you tells you to be more cautious.
"What Peter means is that getting involved with Remus can be dangerous, but not in a real sense. More like a romantic danger. You know how love triangles are, and if you manage to win one of them over, you'll have to deal with the other. But our friend Peter here is a bit too dramatic. He's a literature professor and has lost track of what's fiction and what's reality. Stay at Hogwarts for longer, and maybe you'll end up like that too." Bellatrix speaks as if she's trying to convince you of something, and you admit that she could easily persuade you to believe her, but something in you said that Peter wasn't exaggerating.
"My intention is not to meddle in the relationship between Black and Lupin. In fact, I don't even know how that relationship works. I just happened to meet them by chance and get closer." You speak as you walk through the forest. You look up, unable to see the moon and wondering if tonight you would see the hairy creature again. For a moment, you even think it could be a plan of Bellatrix and Peter to bring you into the middle of the forest and get rid of you, but then you start to think that you're being a bit paranoid. After all, why would they want to get rid of you?
"And finally, we've arrived at the quaintest local bar you'll find around here. I'll warn you upfront that not all patrons are good folks, but the beer is good and it's our only option." Bellatrix informs you as the three of you enter the establishment. The design of the place is cozy and simple, like Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother's house. There's a fireplace right at the entrance, near an old and somewhat tattered-looking sofa. Some people are sitting on the sofa, drinking, while others are standing. Most are just having drinks and chatting. Others are smoking while playing pool in a part of the bar that seems to have a door. You imagine it must be the exit.
"I'll have a beer. Actually, make that two beers." You tell the bartender. He's an incredibly tall man with a long beard and hair. Despite not being sure if he heard your order, he nods. Bellatrix is placing her order while Peter seems to have gone to the restroom. He's so quiet, he could be mistaken for a mouse sneaking around.
"Would you like to dance?" Bellatrix asks as she grabs her drink. The bartender apparently didn't hear you, as he passed you a glass of whiskey and then went to serve another customer. You wonder how she plans to dance without music until you see a jukebox near where the smokers are. Bellatrix promptly goes over there and selects a song. "Kill of the Night" is the song she chooses, and she starts dancing with a certain rhythm towards you. You take your whiskey shot and then take Bellatrix's hand as you try to keep up with her pace. It's a dance that mainly involves the feet and hips. You're not the most coordinated person in the world, but you manage to keep up with her, even though she's holding a bottle of beer while dancing.
"Thank you for inviting me to come here. It was kind of you." You say as you're close to her. Then she pulls you closer and gives you a small kiss on the corner of your mouth, catching you by surprise. You quickly push her away, not quite understanding. Not that she isn't attractive, but you just met her. Well, not that you're a prude.
"If you're interested in spending more time with more fun people, now you know where to find me." Bellatrix winks in your direction and heads towards where Peter went. You're not quite sure what to do, but suddenly you feel short of breath. You then head towards the exit of the bar. Bad idea. The more you walk in the same direction you came from, the more you feel lost. Going back would be an option, but you're a bit embarrassed. So you walk even further until you see someone approaching you at some speed. You clench your fists in a defensive position, preparing yourself. When you feel the person's body collide with yours, and you both roll into the forest. You get lost in the moment, feeling some rocks and branches touching your skin as you and the person roll on the ground.
"What the hell are you doing? Trying to kill us both?" You say as soon as you stop rolling after hitting a tree. Your body already shows signs of feeling the impact, but your anger speaks louder. Especially when you realize who it is. Sirius, who is currently positioned right on top of you, says nothing. He just lightly presses his fingers over your mouth and shushes you. His hand smells nice, like vanilla. But you're itching to kick him where it would hurt most and get him off of you. Then you hear a loud, pained howl, as if from a wounded animal. You also notice that Sirius's arm is injured. And it's like a puzzle assembling itself right in front of you.
"Where's Lupin?" You ask, concerned. Sirius looks at you with a serious expression as if he's annoyed that you didn't shut up.
"I'd like to explain, but it'll be better if we stay quiet." Sirius says, almost against your mouth due to how close he is. You stare at him, feeling his blood touch your skin. He's losing a lot of blood. You need to help him.
"I'll distract whatever's coming. You try to find someone to help you. Don't try to be a hero. You'll die if you keep bleeding like this. Just run in a different direction from mine and try to stay alive." You say, gently pushing Sirius's body off of you and then figuring out how to get the creature's attention. Your only option was to do what the creature does best. So you let out a loud howl, trying to mimic the creature's noise. Soon, the sounds of the creature approaching can be heard. Sirius must have noticed that you were truly determined to attract the creature's attention, because he disappeared once you howled. You then started running as if your life depended on it. But before you left, you grabbed a branch. Your feet pound the ground at an unprecedented speed as you flee from the creature. But it's not enough, as somehow the shaggy creature appears in front of you. You have no doubt it's a werewolf. And the creature looks at you as if it knows who you are. It moves as if it's about to come towards you, and you grip the branch as if to attack the creature. And then it occurs to you that perhaps you can speak to the werewolf, especially if it's who you suspect it is.
"Remus, don't make me attack you. I… don't know you as well as I'd like, but I don't want to hurt you. I know. Deep down, you know it too. You don't want to hurt me, just like you didn't want to hurt Sirius. Just try to stay calm. I know it might seem silly, but focus on what's around you. Your home is nearby. Where your students study. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco, Luna, and many others. They need you." You speak, trying to appeal to the human inside the creature. And for a few seconds, you think you succeeded, until you hear footsteps that distract both you and the creature. And just when it seems like the werewolf is going to attack you, you see four small bodies throwing stones at it. You can bet that Potter, Granger, Weasley, and Malfoy are the students daring enough to venture out of Hogwarts at this hour. Even though Draco might have only come with them because Harry did. You don't have time to think. When you realize that your students might be in danger, you throw your entire body against the werewolf's. You close your eyes tightly to avoid seeing the damage, but you manage to bring the creature down, causing both of you to fall near a stream. Or something like it; you can only hear the sound of water as you begin to lose consciousness.
When dawn breaks, you're unsure if you're alive or how you survived. All you know is that your body is racked with pain. Looking around, you realize that yesterday's events weren't just a dream. Your eyes settle on another person nearby. Despite feeling a bit dizzy, you muster the determination to get up and confirm what you already suspected. The naked man lying unconscious by the stream is Lupin. He's covered in bruises and has a cut near his mouth. So, Remus Lupin is a werewolf, and last night he nearly caused quite a problem. And to top it all off, you'll need to figure out how to carry him somewhere.
To be continued...
36 notes · View notes
chlobliviate · 4 months ago
Text
Wolfstar Microfics - Afterlife
Words: 968
@wolfstarmicrofic
🌙✨🌙✨🌙
It had been five years since Sirius went through the veil, and a lot had happened. Harry defeated Voldemort, Peter finally got what he deserved, and the wizarding world was mostly back to normal. Remus had been married, had a child and was a widower within a year. That period of his life was a blur, that came screaming back to reality every time he looked at his three-year-old.
Teddy was incredible. The best parts of him and Tonks combined into a hurricane of a kid. The most important things to Remus were that he was happy, healthy, and hadn’t inherited his lycanthropy. He was, however, showing signs of metamorphagus abilities. His hair cycled through colours when he slept, which had Remus in tears the first time he witnessed it.
Overall, they were happy. They lived in a little cottage near Hogsmeade, and two days a week, Andromeda would take Teddy and Remus would teach the NEWT students Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry was teaching the younger students, and getting to see him regularly, and see him thriving as an adult, was more than he could ever have hoped for.
Yes, Remus would say that all things considered, things were pretty good.
Until he got an owl from Arthur Weasley asking him to meet him at the Ministry as soon as possible. He dropped Teddy off with Andy, apologising for the short notice, and flooed straight there. He’d been back for the trials of a lot of the remaining Death Eaters, and it still hurt every time he walked into the atrium, remembering the time he’d walked in there with Sirius, and walked out without him.
Arthur met him by the new fountain, mouth drawn in a thin line and his face pale.
“Arthur,” He pulled him into a one-armed hug, “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”
“Come with me.” Arthur headed for the lifts and Remus realised with an impending sense of doom, that they were heading down to The Department of Mysteries.
“What’s going on?” Remus asked as they travelled down. “Arthur?”
Arthur looked at him, “Something happened with the veil today and I— You’re going to need to see it for yourself.”
Remus’ heart was racing, incessantly pounding in his temples and jaw. What could have happened with the veil? Had it released Sirius’ body after all this time? If so, at least he could get a decent funeral with him and Harry there, he supposed morbidly.
As they got to the door, Arthur turned to him, “I’m here for you, Remus. This isn’t going to be easy, mate.”
Remus nodded as they entered the room, he spotted the veil, looking no different, fluttering softly in an imaginary breeze. Taunting him. There was a group of people huddled next to it, and as he got closer he saw what they were huddled around. Or who they were huddled around.
“Moony?” Sirius was half-sprawled on a chair, looking not a day older than the last time they’d been here. He leapt to his feet before quickly, almost involuntarily, sitting back down, clutching his head in one hand. Remus ran to him and sank to his knees. He felt like every ounce of air had been drained from his body.
“Sirius?” He said breathlessly, pushing back the hair that had fallen onto Sirius’ face. “It’s really you?”
Sirius grabbed his hand and clung to it. “It’s really you?” Remus nodded, “It’s been five years?” He nodded again, brushing a tear away with his free hand, “I’m so sorry.”
“What for?” Sirius’ hand cupped his jaw, his thumb brushing away another tear, then another.
“For leaving you again, after I promised not to.” The crowd around them had dissipated. Arthur’s doing, he was sure.
“What happened to you? How are you here?”
Sirius shrugged, “I tumbled back out and I was expecting you all to still be here. It felt like seconds. They said— It’s really been five years?”
“To the day.” Sirius looked devastated. He stood shakily and pulled Remus to his feet before wrapping his arms around him. As Remus sobbed into the crook of his neck, he rubbed circles into his back. “I thought you were dead. We all thought…”
“Sirius, we need to get you to St Mungo's to get you checked over,” Arthur said, from somewhere near the door. “You can chaperone, Remus.” Remus looked over at him, through watery eyes. Arthur was smiling at them. “I’ll send an owl to Harry once we get there.”
🌙✨🌙✨🌙
Getting Sirius caught up on the last five years was one of the hardest things that Remus had ever done, and coming from a bisexual werewolf with a lot of dead friends, that was saying something. He knew that he shouldn’t feel bad about his relationship with Tonks. It wasn’t like he and Sirius were together before, but Remus knew that if Sirius had been around, he never would have considered dating her, let alone the rest of it, and that was a hard realisation to come to. Sirius wasn’t particularly fazed by it, which confused Remus even more.
Speaking of ‘the rest of it’, Teddy was enamoured by Sirius, well, mostly by Padfoot, but he was definitely a fan of having Sirius around the house, too. Harry (and various Weasleys and Hermione) were frequent visitors and Remus finally felt like he had family again.
Six weeks after Sirius’ return, they’d put Teddy to bed and had collapsed on the sofa, a tangle of limbs. Remus had missed moments like this, where he could pretend that in another lifetime something might happen between them. But then Sirius’ soft lips were on his and his hand was in Sirius’ hair and however good things had been before, he was sure they had nothing on what was to come.
32 notes · View notes
literallykenmaandshoyo · 1 year ago
Text
You Daft Dimbo
Tumblr media
Ron Weasley x Female!Gryffindor Reader
Warnings: Language, Ron having his seizure in Slughorn's office
Word Count: 3.2k
Author's Note: Hooray for my first Ron Weasley fic! :D I've been on a Harry Potter kick recently, rewatching all of the movies for like the 200th time (each) and I feel like there's not too many fics about Ron! Ron was one of the first characters I really fell in love with (Before Fred lolol I just want all of the Weasley's.) and I hope this did him justice! This is based during Half Blood Prince (Lavender Brown) times, for a time setting hehe! Hope you all enjoy!
~Mod Shoyo <3
After helping Gryffindor in their tremendous victory, the new keeper, Ron Weasley, became a hot commodity. The night of the game, everyone gathered in the Gryffindor common room to honor and celebrate how amazingly well he did at preventing Slytherin from scoring. Harry, Y/N, and Hermione were all watching as people fawned over Ron.
“It’s nice that Ron has the spotlight, isn’t it?” Y/N giggled, watching red and gold confetti fall over his fiery Weasley locks.
“Yeah, it’s nice when it isn’t me for once.” Harry replied with a smile. Y/N and Hermione both rolled their eyes and scoffed.
As Ron came down from the pedestal he was standing on, Lavender Brown grabbed his hand tightly in hers. Y/N watched with furrowed eyebrows as she gripped his face in her palms, smashing her lips onto his. Her eyes widened and she turned to Hermione, watching her expression shift as well. When Y/N turned back around, Ron’s arms were wrapped around Lavender’s waist, pulling her into his body even more.
Y/N rolled her eyes and walked out of the common room, Hermione following her immediately. As the two best friends made it into one of the empty stairwells, Y/N finally sucked in a large breath, sniffling as she exhaled shakily. Hermione rubbed her back comfortingly and sighed, sitting down with her on one of the steps.
“I-is Ron even close with Lavender?” Y/N choked out. “I’ve never seen them interact once until tonight.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “I've only seen her look at Ron from afar. It's quite creepy, if you ask me.”
Y/N shook her head and looked down into her lap. Her lip was quivering whenever she wasn’t talking. As her teardrops hit the floor, another set of footsteps came down the stairs. Harry had followed Y/N and Hermione, his posture stiffening when he could hear Y/N crying. Hermione looked up at Harry and gave him a disapproving look.
“I’m not sure what’s gotten into him,” Harry sighed. “Bloody twit, he doesn’t know how to deal with so many compliments at once.”
"Obviously," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.
Y/N stayed quiet, looking out one of the barred windows and keeping her eyes on the moon. She sniffled and found herself getting lost in the night sky. It always looked so much prettier when she had a lot on her mind. It almost served as a comfort to her, because who knows what all is going on in that black sky? And here she was, just staring at a small fraction of whatever was really out there.
Two sets of footsteps echoed through the stairwell and Y/N turned at the sound of them. Low and behold, Ron and Lavender came bustling through, both of them out of breath as they stared at the three Gryffindors. Lavender bit her lip and took note of Y/N's bloodshot and puffy eyes. She shifted her gaze to Ron with a very sneaky smirk, giggling softly as she tugged on his arm.
“I think this room’s taken…”
Ron chuckled softly and finally followed her down the stairs, sparing Y/N one last glance before they set out to another set of stairs. Y/N let out a harsh scoff and stood up angrily, stomping back up the stairs into the common room. She’d much rather go to bed than have to deal with the look Ron gave her before Lavender dragged him away.
---------
Ron was starting to get unbearable.
Despite how much Y/N liked him, she couldn’t help but start to slowly despise him the more he hung out with Lavender. Apparently they were dating now, so now there really was no hope for Y/N. Tonight was something different, however.
Harry called Y/N into the boys dormitories with no context, her mind racing as she opened the door. When the room was revealed to her, Ron was slumped in a chair staring out of the large window that was in the back of the room. Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as she walked over to Harry, also managing to get a better look at Ron in the process.
“What’s up with him?” Y/N queried, watching Harry’s slender finger point towards the box of chocolates Ron was clutching to his chest.
On the top, Y/N saw a sticky note with some handwriting on it. It was so neat, she knew it was a girl’s. She squinted her eyes to read the print and made out what it had said. 
A gift from me to you, Harry.
-Romilda <3
Y/N turned to look at Harry with confusion, wondering why Ron was acting so weird if all he ate was chocolate.
The more she thought, the more she started to remember about Slughorn’s class and his lesson on amortentia potions. Y/N audibly groaned and turned to look at Harry.
“You can’t be serious,”
Harry raised his eyebrows and let out a sigh through his nostrils. “I wouldn’t have called you if I wasn’t, I’m afraid.”
Ron was babbling some nonsense, talking about how Romilda was the one for him. How she reminded him of the moon in the sky. Y/N nearly gagged at the sound of all of his heartfelt professions of love for Romilda. He really needed to stop eating everything that he sees, this amortentia spell being the prime example of it.
Once Harry and Y/N managed to lead Ron to Slughorn’s office, she grabbed the brass knocker in the middle of the door and slammed it three times. After a few moments, the door opened ever so slightly, only enough for Slughorn to peek his face through the crack in the door.
“Mr. Potter, Miss L/N, it’s past your curfews,”
Y/N held the door open. “Professor it’s an emergency, we think Ron ate some chocolate laced with amortentia!”
Slughorn opened the door all the way, ushering his three students inside before closing the door behind him. Slughorn walked over to his desk, opening a couple of drawers before pulling out a small chalice and a glass bottle.
“With how well you’ve been doing in my class, I’d figure you could whip up a cure in no time, Harry!” Professor Slughorn complimented.
Once Slughorn finished mixing his herbs and liquids together, he poured the finished product into the chalice he brought out. Y/N took a peek and saw that it was a crimson red liquid. It didn’t look thick and honestly, it reminded her of Kool-Aid. As Ron took the cup in his hands, he looked up at Y/N.
“What’s this?” He questioned, smelling what was inside the cup.
“It’s tonic, for your nerves,” Slughorn responded.
Ron smiled sheepishly and brought the chalice up to his lips, taking a large sip of the cure Slughorn made. After he swallowed, his smile slowly started to fade, his eyes sharpening as he looked around the room. His eyes met with Y/N's and he finally snapped out of his love-struck daze.
“What happened to me?” Ron asked, still staring around the room like he hadn’t known how he even got there. Honestly, it wasn’t a completely irrational thing for him to say right now.
Harry sniggered and looked down at his friend with a smirk. “Love potion.”
Y/N sighed and took a seat on the couch where Ron was sitting. “A really really strong one. It was meant for Harry too.”
Ron furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at Harry. “If it was meant for you then why did it affect me?”
Y/N let out a soft laugh along with Harry. “Romilda Vane laced some chocolates for Harry with amortentia. You, being hungry, Ron Weasley, took the chocolates off Harry’s bed and ate them!”
Ron sighed and rubbed his face with the palm of his hands. Slughorn chuckled and and bustled around his desk once more, pulling out a bottle similar to a wine bottle along with four glasses. He poured the contents of whatever was in the bottle into each cup, bringing them over to hand to each of them.
“Here you go, you three,” Slughorn began. “To life!” Y/N, Harry, and Slughorn all clinked their cups together.
Ron was standing in front of the fire, already taking a sip out of his cup. Before the rest of them could take a drink from their cup, Ron fell to the floor with a harsh thud. Y/N's eyes darted over to Ron’s convulsing body, the veins in his neck popping out of his skin as his mouth started to foam. Y/N lifted Ron’s head up, starting to panic. She looked up at Harry and Slughorn, asking them to help. While Slughorn stayed looking baffled at what was going on, Harry rushed over to Slughorn’s cabinet.
Once Harry got his hands on the bezoar that was in one of the drawers, he came rushing towards Y/N. He got onto his knees and opened the packaging, grabbing the bezoar and stuffing it into Ron’s mouth. He had Y/N help make sure that Ron swallowed it, the two of them waiting in anticipation, hoping that Ron would wake up.
Moments went by, but for Y/N it felt like years. Ron hadn’t been breathing for all but five seconds, and when she finally saw his chest rise again, she let out a breath that she didn’t even know she was holding. Ron sat up, letting out a hearty cough and hunching over the carpet. Y/N and Harry felt their hearts finally start to relax again, panting as Ron turned to Harry.
“These girls are going to kill me…”
-----------
The next morning, Ron was on bed rest in Madame Pomfrey’s. Although the bezoar helped, it also made Ron very ill. Madame Pomfrey managed to help him go to sleep, reassuring Y/N and Harry that Ron would be fine once he woke up. Y/N hadn’t left Ron’s side since he had first got brought to the medical wing. She sat in her chair at his side, Hermione sitting on the other side, watching him sleep and making sure that nothing else alarming was going to happen to him.
As Dumbledore, Slughorn, McGonagall, Snape, and Harry all entered the room they let their eyes settle on the unconscious Weasley boy. He looked as pale as the white blanket that was covering his body, the fabric brought all the way up to his neck. He would’ve been hard to see had it not been for his bright red hair. 
“Very good work on using the bezoar, Harry.” Dumbledore announced. “Horrace, you should be very proud of your student.”
Slughorn let out a shaky chuckle and nodded his head. “Y-Yes, very very proud…”
McGonagall spoke up in a more rational tone. “Let’s face it, had Y/N and Harry not acted as quickly as they did, Mr. Weasley would be dead!”
As Dumbledore studied the contents of the bottle that Slughorn poured their drinks with last night, Lavender Brown came running in, immediately asking for her Won-Won.
Y/N rolled her eyes the second she heard her shrill voice.
“Where’s my Won-Won?” She panicked, scanning each bed she passed as she ran through the medical wing. “Has he been asking for me?”
Y/N turned and looked at Hermione, rolling her eyes and making Hermione chuckle. The two friends stared at each other with a mutual hate for the way that Lavender sounded, let alone the way she acted now that she was Ron’s girlfriend. Y/N stood up from her chair at Ron’s side and eyed Lavender down angrily.
“What’s she doing here?” Lavender spat, eyeing Y/N down with an ugly stare.
“My friend is in the medical wing and you’re asking why I’m here?” Y/N fired back just as angrily. “What the hell are you doing here?"
Lavender gasped slightly. “I happen to be his girlfriend.”
Hermione stood up now, turning to face Lavender with a look similar to Y/N's.
“Funny how you’re his girlfriend, but only came to the medical wing just now. Y/N's been here since he got admitted.”
Lavender was anything but Ron’s girlfriend. If being boyfriend and girlfriend just meant you only used each other for secret makeout sessions in unattended stairwells, then they were soulmates. But Y/N knew that Lavender was far from being Ron’s girlfriend. With the way that Y/N always dreamed of treating Ron, Lavender just didn’t compare. 
“Oh, don’t make me laugh! I suppose you want me to break up with him now that he’s suddenly all interesting?” Lavender whined.
Y/N gasped and let out dry scoff, pointing at the state that Ron was in.
“Are you stupid? Ron was poisoned you daft dimbo! He’s been my best friend way longer than you’ve known him, and he’s always been interesting to me.” Y/N spat.
Harry and Hermione smirked at Y/N's remark, not sure that they wanted to point out that she subtly mentioned her crush on Ron. The teasing would come another time, right now? They were just proud that she was sticking up for not just for herself, but for Ron too.
Ron began to shift in his bed, soft groans and murmurs falling from his lightly chapped lips. Lavender gasped and walked closer to the foot of Ron’s bed. She grabbed his leg in between her horribly painted nails, gripping it tightly.
“Ah… see? He senses my presence.” She stated matter-of-factly. “Don’t worry Won-Won, I’m here! I’m here.”
Ron’s lips parted slightly and small noises were leaving his mouth. Everyone leaned forward, curious of what he was trying to say. Lavender leaned even closer, practically throwing herself on top of his body to listen to him.
“Y-Y/N.” He whispered. Y/N could’ve sworn she was going insane. Had he really said her name?
Maybe she got hit with some amortentia and it was making her go crazy.
Ron spoke again, this time his voice was nice and clear for everyone to hear.
“Y-Y/N.”
Y/N's heart swelled with love as she realized he had in fact said her name the first time. Lavender stood up and looked at Y/N with a look that could kill. Tears welled up in her eyes and she angrily stomped her foot, turning on her heel and running out of the room crying. Dumbledore made a comment about the harsh sting of love, but Y/N didn’t know what he was talking about. The love she felt in her heart right now was something out of a movie. 
Y/N gripped Ron’s hand tightly, her heart swelling even more when she could feel him weakly squeeze her hand. Y/N couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she scooted her chair closer to Ron, lightly caressing his hand with her thumb.
“Aww, look at your little Won-Won.” Harry teased, trying to copy Lavender’s same tone of voice.
Y/N turned to look at Harry and bursted out laughing, playfully rolling her eyes. “Shut up, let me have this moment.”
Harry and Hermione burst into a fit of giggles, standing up and following the teachers out of the wing, leaving Y/N and Ron all by themselves. Y/N let out a small sigh and reached up to run her hands through Ron’s hair.
“When you wake up, I really hope that you see how much you mean to me, Weasley.”
Ron groaned as Y/N ran her fingers through his hair, Y/N giggling as she continued to lightly scratch his scalp with her fingernails.
Ron was so spoiled, but only when Y/N allowed it.
--------------
As soon as Ron woke up, he was greeted with Y/N right by his side. She smiled and gasped, throwing her arms around him as soon as he sat up in bed. He smiled softly and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face into her hair. She was freshly showered, Ron could smell her shampoo and conditioner still trapped in her hair. He stroked her back lovingly, trying to hide the sound of his heart pounding against his chest.
“I’m glad you’re okay, I was so worried about you.” Y/N admitted quietly, her lips right next to his ear and even then he could barely hear her.
Ron smirked and hugged her tighter. “I’m okay. Thanks to you and Harry, of course.”
Y/N smiled and rested her face in the crook of his neck, despite how long he stayed in bed, she could still smell that classic Weasley musk that she had fallen in love with. When her and Ron finally pulled away and Ron was free to leave, he grabbed her hand and intertwined it with his.
They walked down the quiet halls of Hogwarts together, the night sky shining brightly through all of the windows. They stopped in one of the corridors and stared at one of the windows together, Y/N finding the same comfort in the night sky that she found the night Lavender and Ron first kissed.
“You really never left my side?” Ron questioned. Y/N nodded her head. “I only left to go take a shower and come back…” She admitted.
Ron’s heart filled with adoration for his best friend, his blue eyes shifting over to look at her features. Her long eyelashes looked so gorgeous, but they were only accessories compared to the beauty of her eyes. He sighed softly and pulled Y/N towards him, forcing her to look at him now.
“I know I’ve been through a lot when it comes to girls,” Ron admits. “But you’re the only girl that I really have deep feelings for.”
Y/N gasped. This is the confession she had been waiting for, for three years she dreamed of this very moment.
She was finally getting it.
“I’m sorry I put you through all of this,” He licked his lips and met her eyes.
“But I’d really like to try with you, if you’ll let me.”
Y/N visibly relaxed. A small blush tinted her cheeks and her lips spread into a gorgeous smile.
“It’s about time, Weasley.”
Ron furrowed his eyebrows with a smirk before Y/N grabbed the sides of his face in her palms, smashing her lips onto his. Ron was easily taken aback by the action, but the second he snapped out of it, his hands fell to her hips and tightly gripped them, pulling her body into his. Their chests were pressed flush against one another, their heads bobbing from side to side as they kissed. Y/N felt like her heart was going to explode, she was finally kissing Ron Weasley.
It only took three years of patience and heartbreak.
Once they pulled away, Ron smirked, resting his forehead on her own and staring into her eyes. He chuckled, watching her catch her breath in small, erratic pants.
“I could get used to that,”
Y/N rolled her eyes and kissed him once more, running her fingers through his red hair.
“I’ve been waiting for this for three years, Weasley. I think we need to make up for the lost time.”
Ron chuckled and nodded his head in agreement, grabbing her hips tightly once more and pushing his hips into her own. 
“I’m ready when you are.”
312 notes · View notes
fatecanberewritten-writer · 2 months ago
Text
Embers | Chapter One: Introductions
Tumblr media
Stars Series | Embers
“So you mean to tell me - ” the Gryffindor girl’s voice could hardly be heard over the bustling corridor. It was the first day of classes, and the tall brunette was struggling to keep up with her red-headed friend - “that you’re ditching me in Divination for Muggle Studies?”
Her books pressed against her chest, Molly Prewett gave her friend a scowl of a look that would become a signature of hers later in life. “Yes, Julie, that’s what I mean to tell you.”
“But you’ve taken Divination for the past two years! Why, all of the sudden, are you switching it up? And in our OWL year, no less! Don’t tell me.” Julie Axelrod was nearly out of breath as she finally caught Molly’s arm, forcing her to stop and face her. “Do not tell me it’s just because of Black?”
Molly looked away slightly, awkwardly shifting the books in her arms. Seeing her friend’s shoulders droop, she quickly spoke in her own defense. “It’s not just because of her. Did you not get Brady’s letter this summer? She’s been practically begging students to join her class! Apparently there’s so few people signed up that she’s combined fifth and sixth years!”
“Oh, that makes it sound more appealing,” Julie scoffed.
Molly rolled her eyes. “I’m doing it, Jules. You can’t change my mind.”
She watched as Julie’s jaw clenched, and she suddenly realized how personally her friend was taking this. “Fine,” she said, letting go of her arm. “Have fun with all the Muggleborns looking for an easy O and all the nerdy Purebloods with an unhealthy Muggle obsession.”
Julie was lost to the crowd before Molly could say anything else to her. Standing on her tip-toes, she tried to catch sight of her tall friend, but she was already gone. With a huff, Molly held her books more securely and turned on her heel, stalking off to the Muggle Studies classroom.
Even with the delay in the hallway, Molly arrived to the class at least a minute early. It was a small classroom that she’d never been in before, but it felt much bigger than it was because of how few students there were in it. She was the sixth one to join, and of the five others, there was not a single Slytherin, and she was the only Gryffindor. She was also only one of two girls.
“Welcome, welcome!” greeted Professor Brady, a plump, wheezy-voiced witch with short, sandy hair. “Grab a seat anywhere, my dear. We’ll do introductions when everyone’s arrived!”
Molly gave her a grimace of a smile, fairly certain that she would be the last arriving. Looking around at the other students, her gaze quickly met that of the other girl’s, and she let out a sigh of relief at the familiar face.
“I didn’t know you were in Muggle Studies, Alice!” Molly greeted, sitting beside her. Alice Fortescue was a Hufflepuff in her year, and the blonde, round-faced, ever-smiling girl had always been a friendly acquaintance of Molly’s. She was beyond grateful that she was in this class with her.
“I wasn’t until this year,” Alice told her warmly.
“Looks like Brady’s letter worked then,” Molly commented. The two of them glanced up at the professor at the front of the room, who, at that moment, tapped her wand against a strange-looking box that sat on the head table. The entire class flinched away as the box let out a high pitched screeching for a couple of seconds before she was able to get it under control. Slowly, Molly removed her hands from her ears and turned back to Alice. “That’s why I’m here, too,” she told her. “Julie just about killed me when I told her I wouldn’t be in Divination with her anymore.”
Alice chuckled slightly, nodding. Everyone in their year knew that Molly and Julie were practically attached at the hip. “How many do you think are here because of the letter?” she pondered, looking around the room.
Molly looked around with her. Of the four boys, half were Ravenclaw and half were Hufflepuff. She recognized one of the Ravenclaws as being in their year, but she had a hard time recognizing the other three. Every one of them, Alice and Molly included, sat with at least two rows of desks between them and Professor Brady. Molly looked sheepishly back at Alice. “All of them, I’d say.”
Alice smiled awkwardly in agreement.
“Alright then!” called out Professor Brady, gathering their attention. Her face was bright and she looked out happily at her students. Molly couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. “Let’s get started, shall we? I am Professor Evelyn Brady, and I want to thank each and everyone of you for helping to keep the Muggle Studies elective alive!” At this, Professor Brady clapped her hands together, and after a sad moment of her clapping alone, the rest of them joined in on the pitiful round of applause. “Now, before we get started, I wanted to do a quick head count!”
Molly and Alice glanced at each other. A head count? thought Molly, Is that really necessary?
But, nonetheless, Professor Brady began pointing at them all, counting under her breath. It was over very quickly, but by the end of it, the professor’s eyebrows were furrowed. “There should be seven,” she said, mostly to herself. She glanced around, her eyes lingering on Molly for a brief second before she asked, “Where’s Mr. Weasley?”
“Here!” came a loud, breathless voice as the door to the classroom swung violently open. They all turned to watch a tall, red-haired boy barrel, panting, into the room. He looked as though he’d run here from the clear other side of the castle, and, seeing his red robes, Molly wondered if he’d sprinted directly from Gryffindor tower. 
“Arthur!” Professor Brady greeted cheerfully as the boy ignored the precedent set by the other students and settled himself right in the front row. He must have been the only student that’s taken this class before.
“Sorry Professor Brady,” he continued, catching his breath. “Peeves was bombarding a group of first years with erasers - I had to try and help.”
“Not to worry, not to worry,” said Brady. She quickly looked up at the rest of the class, waving them all towards her. “Come up and join Mr. Weasley and I, class! Such a small class, there’s no use in me shouting. Come on, don’t be shy!”
Alice was the first to gather her things and stand, but Molly quickly followed. She followed her friend to the front row of desks next to Weasley, and as she did, she couldn’t help but hear Julie’s voice in her head. Have fun with all the Muggleborns looking for an easy O and all the nerdy Purebloods with an unhealthy Muggle obsession. 
Molly paused as Alice took the desk on the end of the row, leaving Molly to the one directly beside the only person who looked like he wanted to be there. She clenched her teeth, took a breath, and sat down beside him.
As soon as she had settled, she looked up and found that he was already looking at her, a friendly smile on his face. Molly was a bit taken aback. He didn’t look at all as she expected, and to her surprise, Molly actually found him to be quite handsome. How had she never noticed him before?
He smiled kindly and offered her his hand. “Arthur Weasley.”
Her lips slowly curved into a soft smile as she took his hand. “Molly Prewett.”
0 notes
the-al-chemist · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Another Day
A/N: July’s prompt for @hp-12monthsofmagic is “Surprise…”, and this story contains a fairly big one. I’ll let Charlie tell you about it… Warnings: two minor swear word, one of which barely counts as a swear. Tagging: @fantasywriter19 and @toads-in-my-pockets, who I think may particularly enjoy this little story.
Tumblr media
The sun was high in the sky, making the autumn leaves on the ground glow in shades of gold as Charlie arrived in the front garden of the Burrow. From inside the house, the sounds of laughter and clattering pots and pans could be heard as he crunched his way across the yard to the front porch, still dizzy from his Portkey.
He knocked on the front door and was greeted by his mother, who immediately smothered him in an almost rib-breakingly tight hug.
“Bloody hell, Mum. It’s like you’ve not seen me in six months, not six weeks!”
“Well, six weeks is a long time when I had gotten used to you being around all the time,” Mrs Weasley replied. “It’s just lovely to have you home, dear.”
Charlie’s mother let him go, looking almost expectantly behind him before sighing deeply.
“What’s the matter?” Charlie asked her.
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. I thought that maybe… Oh, never mind. Come on inside, dear.”
Shaking his head despairingly, Charlie followed his mother inside the house. It didn’t look quite the same as it had when he was growing up, but it still felt like home, a fact he was grateful for, given the state the house had been in at the end of the war. The Death Eaters had completely ransacked the house and destroyed parts of it; it had taken Charlie and his brother Percy the best part of a year to fully restore it to its former unglorified glory.
In the living room was Percy himself, along with Charlie’s other two eldest brothers and their father. Charlie hugged each of them in turn, finishing with his older brother, Bill.
“Where’s Fleur?” Charlie asked him, looking around himself as if his sister-in-law might suddenly appear out of nowhere - which, in fairness, she could.
“She went for some air,” replied Bill, smiling broadly. “She’s out in the back garden watching Harry and Ginny teach Teddy to ride a broom.”
“Right. And the others?”
“Ron and Hermione should be here any minute now, and knowing Artemis, she will be here ten minutes late.”
“Of course. Why break the habit of a lifetime?” Charlie said, raising his eyebrows knowingly. “I’ll go and show my face outside.”
In the back garden, Fleur Weasley was sitting on a deck chair with a glass of water, watching Charlie’s sister Ginny and her boyfriend holding a blue-haired toddler upright on a broomstick. At the sight of her brother, Ginny left Harry and Teddy to their flying lesson and ran across the grass towards him.
“Did you come here alone?” she demanded, without even saying hello first.
“It’s nice to see you too, Gin.”
“Yeah, whatever. Answer the question.”
“Uh, yes. Why?”
“Oh, mum was getting all excited. She got it into her head that you were bringing a girl home as a surprise.”
Charlie blinked. “Why would she think that?”
“Because Mum just loves marrying people off, doesn’t she?” Ginny laughed. “And because you only ever usually come home when it’s a special occasion.”
Ginny had a point, Charlie had to admit that. When he had first left home at eighteen, he struggled to afford Portkeys, and always found himself feeling more homesick returning to Romania after visiting his family. Going home infrequently had become somewhat of a habit, but after the war ended and he moved back to Romania following a year’s sabbatical, his priorities had changed. He had visited more often in the last five months, but it just so happened that his visits had coincided with big events: Ginny’s graduation, George’s shop re-opening, Ron’s engagement. This was the first time he had come home without there being some sort of occasion, the first time that it was just another day in the life of the Weasley family.
“Anyway,” Ginny continued, apparently not noticing the somewhat guilty conscience of her brother, “Mum started putting twos together, you know what she’s like.”
“She does like putting twos together.”
“So, you definitely haven’t brought a girl home, then?”
Charlie looked one way and then the other, before holding his hands aloft and shrugging his shoulders.
“Mum will be disappointed,” Ginny laughed, and Fleur smirked into her glass of water.
“I expect zat she will cope,” she said wryly.
From inside the house, Molly called that dinner was ready, and the whole family made their way towards the kitchen. Charlie ducked under a platter of roast potatoes making its own way to the table in order to greet the latecomers: his youngest brother Ron and his fiancée, and Charlie’s best friend from school, Artemis Hexley.
“Trust you to arrive just in time for food,” he muttered to her as he pulled her into a hug. “Though you could’ve at least brushed your hair.”
“Oh, piss off,” Artemis prodded Charlie in the ribs and wriggled out from his arms. “How was your journey here, anyway?”
“Not too bad.”
“The grannies of Ottery St Catchpole all survived you apparating, then?”
“You know, that joke stopped being funny about eight years ago.”
“To you, maybe.”
Artemis grinned wickedly and made her way to the table, Charlie following behind her. As the plates of food were passed around and the kitchen was filled with the sound of lively conversation, he realised how much he had missed moments like this. This was exactly what he had wanted for his visit home.
When the chatter at the dinner table reached a natural lull, Charlie cleared his throat quietly. Before he could say anything to fill the gap, however, Bill rose to his feet.
“I didn’t realise there were going to be speeches,” said George, through a mouthful of food.
“I’ll be quick, I promise,” Bill laughed sheepishly. “It’s just that while everyone is here, I - well, Fleur and I - wanted to tell you all something.” He placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder and smiled at her so widely he looked as if he might burst from happiness, before telling the rest of the family: “We are going to have a baby.”
Suddenly, the kitchen was filled with even more noise and movement than before. Molly and Arthur Weasley rose from their seats to embrace their oldest son and daughter-in-law, Molly making high-pitched noises and crying. Percy congratulated them heartily, and Artemis dropped her fork on the floor in surprise.
Charlie bent down to pick it up and handed it back to her, their eyes meeting as the fork exchanged hands. She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, and he gave her an almost imperceptible shrug in response.
Just like that, the day now belonged to Bill, Fleur, and their unborn child. The talk at the dinner table had turned to babies, to names and dates and sleeping arrangements. Even after dinner ended, the discussion continued, with Charlie’s mother rushing to find the family albums to find photos of her own seven babies for everyone to look at, an ordeal Charlie managed to escape by offering to clean up after dinner.
“Can I just grab a glass for Fleur?” Bill asked him, once everyone else had retired to the sitting room.
“Of course you can,” Charlie ducked out of the way of a cupboard to allow Bill to summon a glass from it. He chuckled to himself and shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad.”
“Neither can I.”
“You must be so happy.”
“I am,” said Bill, still smiling. “Terrified, but happy.”
“It’ll be alright. You’ll be a great dad.”
“Thanks, Charlie.”
“I mean it,” Charlie held his hand out to Bill. “Congratulations, mate.”
The two brothers shook hands before wrapping their free arms around each other’s shoulders.
“I’m just glad you decided to come back this weekend,” Bill said. “We didn’t want some people finding out before others, and you know how hard it is to get everyone in one place when it’s not for something specific.”
“Hm, yeah.” Charlie nodded, aware that Artemis had just entered the room and pulled a face that made it hard for him not to laugh. “Tough, that.”
“I mean it, thank you. Anyway, better give this to Fleur. Sorry, Artemis, didn’t realise you were behind me.”
“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Artemis paused before briefly hugging Bill around the waist. “Congratulations, by the way.”
She watched Bill carry Fleur’s glass out of the room, before leaning back against the kitchen table and watching the dishes wash and dry themselves at the sink.
“You didn’t fancy looking at the photos of baby Bill in the bath, then?” asked Charlie.
“Not really. I lived with him for half of last year, if I wanted to see his knob I’d have had plenty of opportunities to do so.”
Charlie laughed and used his wand to direct the clean plates into the cupboard before joining Artemis on the edge of the table.
“So much for it just being another boring, regular day at the Burrow,” she muttered quietly, rolling her eyes.
“I never said it would be boring,” replied Charlie, his voice also lowered. He sighed. “That’s the thing about big families. There’s always something going on with someone. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“Honest?”
Artemis turned her face towards Charlie, holding his gaze.
“Yeah,” she said, completely honestly. “If anything, it’s kind of funny. You had this brilliant plan set out for weeks, and Bill swoops in at the last minute with the exact same idea.”
“Well, they say great minds think alike,” Charlie grinned. “You think that’s funny, you should hear what Mum and Ginny said.”
“What was that?”
“They thought I might be bringing home a girlfriend this weekend.”
“Did they really?” Artemis smirked. “That’s brilliant. What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing at all?”
“No, I just went like this,” Charlie held his hands up slightly and shrugged his shoulders. Artemis blinked at him. “What? It works every time.”
Artemis burst out laughing, using one hand to stifle the sound of her giggles as Charlie shushed her through his own.
“We can’t now, can we?” she whispered, once the two of them had composed themselves.
“Not really, no.”
“That would be unfair.”
“It would,” said Charlie. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s just good to have you back.”
“It’s good to be back. I missed you.”
“You too.”
Charlie cast a glance over his shoulder at the door before wrapping his arm around Artemis.
“So, now what?” she asked, reaching across him to take his free hand, her fingers walking over his like the rungs of a ladder.
“We let them have their day today, and then we will just have to make a new plan so we can have our turn another day.”
“And that’s when we’ll tell them about” - Artemis’ eyes flicked from Charlie’s right hand in her lap to his left on her shoulder - “us?”
With another look back at the door, Charlie pulled her closer to him, kissed her hairline, and rested his chin on the top of her head.
“Yeah. That’s when we’ll tell them about us.”
152 notes · View notes
mastermindmiko · 6 months ago
Text
Gatherings at the Burrow (Ron edition)
Pairing: Ron Weasley + Reader Warnings: none, but lmk Word count: 4627 words Summary: Gatherings at the Burrow, through a series of events always lead to a happy couple forming, this time it's Ron's turn.
I'm going to make this a little series with each Weasley having a chapter with sort of the same overarching theme, I'm not going to set any deadlines, cause we all know I'm not good with that, but here is the first one!
Tumblr media
Gatherings at the Burrow have never been anything short of brilliant, I've only ever gone there for three years, but each year seems to be better than the one before it.
"You really should visit more often, dear." Molly says, whilst giving me a hug as soon as I enter. I raise my voice, sure to make sure that a certain someone that is also present hears, "I would, If my stupid boss gave me some time off every once in a while!"
"Go complain about it to HR!" Percy yelled back from the kitchen. Molly leads me to the living room where the whole room is filled with excitement. I wave to everyone and then take a seat next to my closest friend in the room Ronald Weasley.
"I haven't heard from you in a while, I almost thought about visiting Percy at work just to see you." Ron says, pressing a kiss to my cheek as greeting. I smile at the gesture and replied, "Since when was two days ever considered a while."
"It is when you're my friend." Ron says with a cheeky grin. Harry waves from behind Ron, and I say, "It must be terrible working with him everyday."
"It is..." Harry agrees, "Especially when he only talks about you or the Chudly Canons."
I flush a deep shade of red and pretend to not notice the way Ron shoves Harry. The twins babble about their new inventions and how great the shop's been ever since they finally rebuilt after the war. The older Weasleys (Bill and Charlie, along with their father) bicker about how Bill can't give his child candy after seven at night. Ginny telling Fleur how excited she is about her first Quidditch game as the Chaser of the Holyhead Harpies next week.
Even with all the clatter and noise, it's still very comforting, even more so when Ron slips his arm around my back. Another person enters the room and Ginny runs excitedly to the door. I hear a load of giggles and at their recognizable sound, Ron removes his arm from around me.
Ron and Hermione got together as soon as the war ended. I only got to know them when I started working for Percy, especially since the twins wanted to know who 'Percy's new victim' was. They seemed so happy together but before their one year mark, they broke it off. It's been two years since, I can't help but wonder if they sometimes think it's a mistake.
I've never been one to meddle, but as Hermione sat across from us, next to Ginny and Fleur, I couldn't help but notice the way Ron was avoiding her eyes. He'd only gave her a half-assed wave when she entered the room.
With my heart (for some absurd reason) heavier, I sighed and went to the kitchen to get myself a drink. I stand up and Ron's hand wraps around my wrist. He asks, "Where are you going?"
"I'm going to go get a drink, want one?" I asked, and he shakes his more than half full cup at me with an appreciative smile. I turn to everybody in the room and shout, "Anyone want a drink?"
The room quiets before everyone starts telling me their drink orders, hectic as always, just the way I love it. I head to the kitchen and Percy's got his papers set out in front of him, working. I walk in, and say, "You can't be married to your work forever, you know."
"I'm aware..." He trails off, as he continues to read some paper, underlining certain aspects. He continues, "But until that day..."
He continues to work, not even sparing me a glance as I start filling up eight glasses with drinks, trying not to get in Molly's way while she's cooking. I say, "You can afford to not work, excessively for one day, you know."
"I'm aware of that too." Percy says, and I slide his drink across the counter to him. The noise alerts him and he reaches out to grab it before it slides off the edge. He opens his mouth, but I interrupt him, "You can't possibly be doubting my ability to make a drink for you after three years."
He presses his lips into a firm line, and nods his head in thanks. I've learned to pick up on his mannerisms over the years. I try one last time, "Percy, come on, everyone's waiting for you, and I really don't want to spend the night, thinking that you're here all alone, working."
"I'm hardly alone, I've got mom."
"Who's about to finish cooking and will light up your papers, if you don't spend time with your family." Molly threatens, and Percy's wise enough to start packing up his papers. I finish up the last of the drinks, and place a spell to send each of them to their respective owners.
"Are you sure you don't need any help, Molly?" I offer for the third time that night, careful not to call her Mrs. Weasley as to avoid getting scolded. "No, no, no, you go rest my dear, and you enjoy your time, I simply do not know how we spent all those years without you."
"Your youngest son is to blame for that." I say, blushing at Molly's kindness. Molly fumes, "I honestly do not know how you were with that boy in school not only for seven but for eight years, and he's never even talked to you, I know he regrets it, all those years he's wasted not being in love with you."
"He's not in love with me-"
"He is." Percy interrupts me, and I say, "He's still hung up on Hermione, that's for sure. Besides, he's expressed his feelings about dating his friend more than once with me..."
After Hermione and Ron broke up, it sort of shattered the dynamic for a bit. All the awkwardness hung in the air, and even if it's mostly faded by now, Ron always says how he'd never date a friend, and how he'd rather face Voldemort again than go through all of that again. Sometimes when he talks about it, I feel as though he is looking right through me, warning me even.
"Ron's always been a bit daft when it comes to matters like these, give him a bit." Percy says, and I roll my eyes, I'd be foolish to even allow myself a sliver of hope, especially since I couldn't care less about who Ron dates.
I head back into the living room and once again the only spot left is beside Ron, I sit back down next to him on the sofa. Percy enters the room and the twins shuffle aside to provide a place for him, and Fred sends me a wink while George wiggles his eyebrows between me and Ron.
I roll my eyes at their antics, and Ron says, "There's something I haven't told you."
I shift all of my focus to him, and gesture for him to keep talking. Ron explains, "You know how strict the ministry is about breaking Auror Protocol, even more so when you've just finished training- like me, and long story short, I broke protocol, and now I'm suspended for two weeks."
"Ron! Have you told your family about this?"
"No."
"What did you even break protocol for?" I ask, furiously. It's already nerve wrecking enough that he's an Auror, dealing with all these dark wizards constantly, and not just him, but Harry too. Ron says, "Harry was in trouble."
I sigh, knowing that there is no way I could scold him for that. I place my palm on his forearm and say, "You've still got to be careful, Ron."
"I know, I can't have anymore dark wizards harming anyone I care about." He says, and he looks at me, that look, that stupid stupid look with his stupid blue eyes. I feel the butterflies flutter in my stomach. I urge them to stop, these are dangerous feelings and I will not have them.
"You really should tell them, sooner rather than later too." I advise, and he nods. He continues to look intently into my eyes, if this wasn't Ron, I'd be sure that he was going to kiss me, but Ron wouldn't dare. He'd sooner kiss an enemy rather than a friend.
He clears his throat, looking away, and pulling away from my touch. The butterflies die, and they are replaced with a painful feeling in my chest. He leans down, elbows on his thighs. He says, "I hear you're moving."
"Yeah."
"With um Thomas?" Ron says, and it's at moments like these where I think that there's something more. I reply, "Dean? No, it's not like that with him."
"You aren't dating?" Ron says, looking at me, eyes wide. I swallow, "No, I would've told you if I was dating someone, and it's been like that with Dean anyways."
He nods, and gulps down a few sips of his drink. He straightens his back and asks, "When are you moving?"
"I'll be officially moved in by Saturday."
*** ⋆。°✩***
"Thanks for helping me Dean."
He sets down the last of the boxes, and he wipes away a bit of sweat from his forehead. He smiles, tired but genuine. I add, "I really appreciate it."
"You know I love spending time with you, but why couldn't Weasley help you out?" Dean asks, and I turn around and start pulling out a few items from the box entitled kitchen. I act, "Percy? He's working yet again, could not get him away even with a-"
"No, Ron. I'm sure he'd be happy to help, after all he is in love with you." Dean explains, looking at me intently, I turn around to face him and sigh. I haven't told Dean about the many conversation I've had with Ron regarding this topic. Last he talked about it was during Bill's birthday party, less than a month ago.
"Congratulations Bill! You're not only old, but you're very old!" George lifts a glass and laughs. The laughter echoes around the table, as Bill shoves his younger brother. Bill replies, "In a blink of an eye, you'll be even older than I am."
George waves his hand dismissively, and sits down next to his future wife Angelina. He wraps an arm around her and gives her a kiss on her temple. I could only hope to be that in love with someone someday. I can imagine how wonderful it would be, the kisses, the stolen glances, the words of appreciation-
"It's manic if you ask me." Ron whispers in my ear over the loud music in the club. I turn to look at him faces so close that I can could the freckles on his cheeks. I ask, "What is?"
"Dating your friend." Ron says, and I sigh, getting ready for another monologue. He starts, "If they break up, not only would if effect them, but also the whole group, I mean, he'd lose her and maybe even Lee, not to mention, it would put Fred in an awkward spot, who to chose, and-"
"I think it's wonderful." I stop him, and he raises an inquisitive eyebrow, I start my own rant, "You wouldn't have to go through any of that first date awkwardness of not knowing what to say or what to do. You wouldn't worry about what to get them for gifts because you've already gotten them gifts your whole life. You'd feel comfortable around them and you'd feel like they're your best friend too. My favorite part of it is that when you get older, and have kids, and grandkids and all that, you'd have so many more stories to tell them about how much that person means to you even before you ever fell in love with them."
I take in a breath, looking at George and Angelina, Bill and Fleur, Luna and Ginny, hoping that someday I might have what they have. I turn to look at Ron whose been silent since I've finished talking, and I could feel the gears spinning in his head, and I could see his cheeks turn red. He says, "You didn't think of one last thing."
"What is it?"
"That if you lost them, it would hurt a million times more."
Dean says, trying to convince me of my hidden love for Ron, "Don't give me any of your bullshit, I'm the one person who knows you better than he does..."
He takes a step towards me and places a hand on my cheek. He bends down and presses a small peck to my lips. He whispers, cheeky, "And that's only because I've been inside you."
I gasp, and hit him arm playfully, he laughs, and I turn red. "And you love him too, and don't even try to object."
"We've been at this for seven years now, and the only times when you stop kissing me or more is when you're in love with someone. The first time, it was with Neville and now, it's with Ron. You can deny it all you want like I know you've been, but you're going to find out soon enough."
"I really hate you sometimes, you know." I huff, pursing my lips. He smiles, "You know you love me."
I break into a smile, and wrap my arms around him in a friendly hug. He reciprocates, and then presses a sweet kiss to my cheek. He sighs, "I've got to go meet up with Seamus."
"Okay, thanks again for helping." I say, and the doorbell interrupts us. I wasn't expecting anyone. I walk over to the door, and open it. Before the war ended, I would've never done such a thing, but now I can open the door to my home without worrying about being attacked.
Ron stands with his face flushed a bouquet of my favorite flowers. Dean picks up his bag from the ground, and that's when Ron notices him, his expression hardens immediately. Dean says goodbye to both Ron and I then walks out the door.
I don't mind Dean's flirts from behind Ron, as I roll my eyes, and pull Ron inside. I close the door behind us, pressing my back against it. A smile on my mouth, as I wait for Ron to say something. Ron asks, "Is that Thomas?"
"Yes, you've shared a dorm with him for seven years, I figured you'd know what he looks like by now." I joke, but my grin drops when Ron scoffs and lowers the bouquet. Ron asks, "What was he doing here?"
"He helped me move in." I explained. He frowns and says, "Magic couldn't help you with all those boxes?"
"Not in a muggle neighborhood, no." I say, and Ron folds his arms. The bouquet bunches up at the ends from the action. I tentatively take a step towards him and I question, "What are the flowers for?"
"And you didn't think to ask me for help?" Ron snaps, and his tone surprises me. I shrug my shoulders and say, "I thought you'd be busy, and I wouldn't want to bother you."
"But you'd bother Dean all you'd like."
"Why are you saying his name like that? You guys are friends." I say, appalled by his tone, spitting venom. Ron sets the flowers down on one of the random boxes that surround us, and spits, "If you didn't want to tell me about your personal life that's fine, but you didn't have to lie to me."
"I didn't lie to you about anything." I defend, getting heated up myself at all his accusations. He shouts, "And Thomas only came here to help you move."
"Yes!"
"I'm not an idiot, I know what's going on between the two of you." Ron says, and I sigh, exasperated, "Nothing is happening!
"Please! It's been happening since third year." Ron says, and I huff, "Yes, but it's stopped, for a while actually. And you don't get to do this! I don't owe you any information about my life that I don't want to share."
"My mistake, I actually thought we were friends."
"We are friends, but you don't get to accuse me of things that only you see, and even if I was dating him, why would it be any of your business?" I shout, and he opens his mouth to retort, but then shuts his mouth and the door of my new apartment right behind him.
*** ⋆。°✩***
I still hadn't gotten over what happened with Ron by the time that I go into work on Monday. The first thing I notice is Mr. Weasley not standing beside me in the elevator. The second thing I notice is the lack of red hair on my way to my office. The third and most concerning thing is that Percy Weasley, the Percy Weasley has submitted an absence notice.
If Percy is not working that must mean that something awful has happened. I send a Patronus to Percy and hope that he sends a reply quickly, my worry has me waiting twenty minutes before I rush to my supervisor's office to ask her what happened.
I knock on her door, and wait for her sharp voice yell a sound of acknowledgement. I walk into her office and stand in the middle of the room with my heels digging into her thick fur carpet. I say, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if you knew why Per- Mr. Weasley isn't here today."
"It was a surprise to me too, if I'm being honest." Her voice is harsh as she scribbles something down with her quill. She continues in a slow voice that has be just about ready to start yelling for her to get out with it, "Something about a family member in the hospital."
My heart lodges into my throat, and I think of all the horrible horrible possibilities as I excuse myself and nearly run to the apparition grounds to make it to St. Mungo's.
Molly's been getting really tired with her old age what if something happened to her, and Mr. Weasley too especially after Nagini attacked him a few years ago. What about Fred and George? They couldn't survive without each other! What about Bill? He's got a kid now!
Ron...what if something happened to Ron? Despite his stubborn attitude and insane jealousy, I don't know what I'd do without him. I haven't heard from him since the fight either. My fast paced walking turns into a full blown run, and as soon as I make it to the apparition grounds, I recklessly apparate without any regard for my safety.
What would I do if I didn't have to spend a decent amount of time writing him a letter everyday? What would I do if I had to spend a day without his incessant nagging and his irrational logic, and his gentleness and care, and his dumb smile.
St. Mungo's isn't as busy as it usually is. The receptionist tells me the ward that an unspecified Weasley is staying in, and I'm sure that I look insane, running like a mad woman to get to the proper room. I can feel my heart pumping in my ears as I see a sea of red hair. I see them one by one; Molly, Arthur, Percy, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George and-
"Ron!" I say, as I wrap my arms around him in a bone crushing hug. He's takes a step back from the sheer force of my hug, and encases me in his arms. I pull back and the words spill from my mouth, "I came as soon as I heard, I thought something happened to you."
"People should know that not all Weasleys are interchangeable, they should always mention who got hurt, I was so scared that something happened to Percy or Fred or Bill or-"
"It's Ginny who's hurt." Ron explains, and I feel stupid with the way I've been complaining when someone is hurt, and even more so when I feel everyone's teasing eyes on us. I ask, "What happened?"
"She fell off her broom in a match, and she would've been fine if she wasn't hit by a bludger too." He says and I scrunch up my face at the description. I just can't imagine what poor Ginny must be feeling right now. I ask, "What did the healer say?"
"That she's in stable condition, she's not awake at the moment, but none of the broken bones are that serious. She won't be playing for a while, but nothing is permanent, and she'll be okay." Ron says, and I nod my head. My relief along with worry take over my body.
I look into Ron's eyes, and lift my hand up to cup his cheek. I sigh, looking at him. Grateful that nothing's happened to him. The relief is too overwhelming that I believe I can't deny what I'm feeling any longer. He gives me that look, and he pulls me in by my waist.
Ron was right, it would hurt a million times more if I lost him. That's when his touch felt like fire, and I could feel my throat close up. I can't believe I let this happen. I fell for him, for this moron standing in front of me right now. I let out a shaky breath, and pull away from his grasp.
My initial reaction is to run away and never look back, but instead, I go sit next to Percy, who has worry radiating off him. I provide support for the rest of the Weasley family, not sparing Ron one glance, hoping that the words don't tumble from my throat.
*** ⋆。°✩***
The next Weasley gathering was in celebration of Christmas getting closer and closer as well as Ginny's fast and marvelous recovery. No one, not even the healer's expected her to bounce back that quickly, but Ginny is an amazing witch, it was foolish to not expect it.
I wasn't going though, I'd sent Ginny a gift, and an apology to Molly for not being able to make it. My obstacle at the current moment was trying to get Percy to leave the office to go to said gathering without me. I say, "I can't go, Percy."
"You say that but you still haven't provided a valid excuse." Percy says, and I shrug my shoulders, "I've got work."
"Did you forget that I'm the one who gives you that work? You don't have anything to finish!" Percy says, exasperated, and I sigh, "I just can't Percy."
"But if you-"
"I can't." I stop him sharply, I run a hand through my hair, hopelessly and whisper, "Not while he's there..."
"I'm sure Ron wouldn't mind it, you had a fight, all friends fight. It's normal." Percy reassures me, and I feel my eyes water as I begin to explain, "I fell for him, Percy, and even if he does like me back...You know how he feels about dating his friends, imagine how he would feel about dating me, who is a friend and even considered a member of his family."
"I'm sure everything will be alright." He says, before mumbling something quietly under his breath. He apparates to the Burrow and I organize my office before going back to my apartment for the weekend. I place the pens back into my case. The paper sin the drawers and I lock them up with enchantments and passwords.
I hated not being at the Burrow, not making everyone their drinks, not seeing Ginny after being very worried about her. I couldn't believe that I let my feelings influence my life this much, especially when it came to the Weasleys. They are some of the most important people in my life, and I couldn't-
"Percy told me you'd be here."
I gasp at the voice, and I spin to where it came from. Ron. The silence was thick between us. I cleared my throat, and turned around to continue sorting papers into stacks. I ask, "How's Ginny?"
"Good..." He trails off and the silence spreads over us once more. I ignore it this time and try to focus on getting the organization done as soon as I can to get back home. I'm not sure how long it is before I feel him wrap his arms around my middle and spin me around to face him.
"Mom was disappointed you didn't come." Ron said, and I hoped what he really meant was 'I was disappointed you didn't come.' I don't say a thing, and he pulls me closer to him. The butterflies threaten to swallow me whole. I push his arms away, and I say, "Ron, you should get going."
"Why?"
I try to push passed him but he cages me in between his arms and my desk. I look past him focusing on a picture hung in my office behind him. He adds, "Didn't you think I would notice the way you've been giving everyone the cold shoulder since you saw us at St. Mungo's?"
I stay silent, he was right. I didn't send any letters, and the replies that I've sent were dry to say the least. He says, "I'm sorry, if this is because of the fight, but-"
"It's not because of the fight." I reply, and look at him. I can see the desperation in his eyes, and it gets my heart pumping faster. Ron furrows his eyebrows, and questions, "What is it then?"
My eyes well up, and I look down at the ground. Ron lifts my chin up with his index finger. He says, "You can tell me anything, you know..."
I let out a bittersweet laugh, and sniffle, "Not this, you'll hate me for it."
"I could never hate you." He reassures me, but he doesn't know how little it does. I feel a tear fall, and I cover my face with both my palms. I sob, "I'm so sorry, Ron, I didn't mean to, I promise."
"I'm in love with you." I say, the weight off my shoulders and onto my chest as I await his response, tears falling faster than before. I hear him take in a shaky breath before wrapping his fingers around my wrists. He pulls down my palms away from my face. His movements are slow and they feel like torture, waiting for him to say something or do something.
He gazes at me, and I feel even worse than before, I can't lose him. I can feel another apology about to tumble from lips when he silences me. I'm completely irresponsive as I feel his lips against mine and the feeling of his palms on my cheeks spreading to the rest of my face. I pull away from his lips and ask, "But you said-"
"Everything I've ever said about not wanting to date a friend was a weak and desperate attempt of trying to get you to not fall for Dean." Ron says, and I question, "But when Hermione-"
"The reason why Hermione and I broke up was as I told you, I didn't like her anymore, but the other reason was because my older brother's secretary had it out for me and my heart, and I couldn't spend another moment away from her. I didn't want to rub it in Hermione's face, but I should've handled it better than that."
"You're acting very mature right now." I say, beginning to light up, and Ron chuckles, "Bill had a talk with me after you left St. Mungo's, I've been waiting for the right time to talk to you about it."
"Remind me to thank Bill."
42 notes · View notes
joka13 · 4 months ago
Note
Hey can I please request a post war George Weasley x squib reader where she lives with her muggle mum (her wizard dad died in the war) and has been away from the wizarding world for a long time and george kinda brings her back to it thanks Xx
Helloooo👋 What an interesting idea! I enjoyed exploring the more melancholy aspects of the wizarding world, so thanks for the suggestion. Hope you enjoy!🫶
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Dear reader,
As you may or may not know, I post extensive, multiple part fanfiction stories. I must remind you or clarify that I do not consider any requests I write as parts of those stories. Thank you for reading❤️
FANFICTION (REQUEST): George Weasley x Squib Reader (Female) - Empathy - Part 1
WARNINGS: mentions of violence and death
Birthday. Every year before, the word had brought feelings of excited anticipation and joy, but today it only made you feel down (and that was an extreme understatement).
That evening you would have your first birthday celebration without your father. Almost nine months ago, he died in the Second Wizarding War, leaving you and your muggle mother magicless except for a few trinkets, including his wand.
You kept it with you at all times. Not because it would be of any use to you (because it wouldn't), but for it's sentimental value. Of course, the wand reminded you of dear Dad, but it also brought to your mind the wonderful things he used to talk about.
When you were younger, as a squib it was complete torture to only hear stories and see small tricks from your father when you couldn't go explore the wizarding world and practice magic for yourself. But, after the war and learning more about the dark side of magic, a part of you came to despise and fear it. It was difficult to feel anything else for the thing that killed your father.
Though, sometimes, when you were alone with only your dad's wand to keep you company, you would be tempted to hold it, to point it and cast pretend spells like you did when you were little. You imagined yourself commanding your bedroom to tidy itself or your cat to talk back when you asked him a question. But, no matter how hard you imagined it, you would never be able to wield magic. That was the sad truth. When your father was around, the truth was tolerable because he could. He could do all of those things and so much more, and he was so kind to show you even a sliver of what he knew.
But he was gone along with his magic. He died and you and your mum went on with your regular, muggle-styled lives. You had to tell everyone that your father died in a car crash. It hurt. You wanted everyone to know about your father's sacrifice, his bravery, and how he fought for a righteous cause. But they would never know...
"Y/n?" your mother said, pulling you away from your thoughts. You sat on the couch in the living room, failing to stay focused enough to read the book in your hands while Mum iced your birthday cake in the kitchen.
"Yeah?" you replied.
"Did you hear me?"
"No, sorry. I was distracted."
"It's alright. I was just saying Mr. and Mrs. Weasley want to pop by for a quick visit tonight to wish you a happy birthday."
Oh no. Please, no more condolences, you thought.
"Okay. Thanks for letting me know," you sigh wearily.
"Hey, don't be like that." Mum wiped her hands on her apron as she went to sit on the couch beside you. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders affectionately. "The Weasley's are good friends."
"I suppose... It's just been so long... too long since I have seen them," you said. "And they had a son die in the war."
Mum blinked in concern and confusion. "Well, yes, but I don't see why that would make them unwelcome."
You rested your head on her arm. "It's just that... they're gonna want to talk about Dad, and then it would be rude not to mention their son... It'll turn into a pity party instead of a birthday party."
"You're being ridiculous," Mum scoffed, but you could tell she understood your point just fine. "Besides, they have a present for you. And we can't eat the cake all by ourselves."
"What's wrong with leftovers?"
It was Mum's turn to sigh. "I'm sorry, but they insisted on coming. It's good of them to reach out to us. And it's just a quick visit."
"Might as well get it over with. It was bound to happen anyway."
"Y/n—"
"Yes, yes, I know better than to act like this in front of them. Don't worry. I'll be nice."
You truly didn't want to talk about the war, but you didn't want to see the Weasley's also because they had magic. You never told your mother about your new fear of witches and wizards because you thought it was silly. You knew there was plenty of good magic, or rather good uses for magic. Magic doesn't kill. Your father never endangered you or your mum, but there were bad people in the wizarding world just like the bad people in the muggle world.
When you heard a knock on the front door that evening, your heart leapt with panic. Even though you knew Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were good people, a part of you was afraid of them.
"Mum, the Weasley's are here!" you called behind you. Mum hurried out of the kitchen to come stand behind you, leaving it up to you to open the door. You took in a deep, nervous breath as you reached for the knob and opened the door.
"Happy birthday, y/n!" Mrs. Weasley greeted you cheerily. She stood on the ends of her small feet to kiss you on the cheek, embracing you like you were her own child. "How are you, dear?"
"I'm alright, thanks. How are you guys?"
"Good!" Mr. Weasley responded, walking through the door behind his wife. He shook your hand enthusiastically. "Happy birthday, y/n!"
"T-thank you..." You began to feel emotional, remembering the love you had for the Weasley family and their caring, happy ways. Before you could get teary-eyed, another person walked through the door behind Mr. Weasley, surprising you.
You were taken aback, believing for a moment that Fred, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's son who was killed in the war, was standing in front of you. But you knew that was impossible, and you also knew that Fred had a twin. So, the young man must've been Fred's twin, George.
"Hello, y/n! Happy birthday!" he said, grinning crookedly and handing you a brown, paper bag.
You smiled, laughing awkwardly as you accepted the gift. "George, hello! What a pleasant surprise."
"Yeah, sorry about that," George chuckled, closing the door behind him. "I wasn't invited, I know. But I liked the thought of... reintroducing myself since the last time we saw each other. I was just a kid then, probably immature—"
Mrs. Weasley snorted as she pulled your mother in for a hug. "You say that like you've matured so much!"
You all laugh.
"I have! Just not enough to get rid of my good sense of humor," George snickered.
"I think I was about nine when I saw you last," you say, reminiscing about the Weasley's magical house. "It was Thanksgiving, wasn't it?"
"Yes, I remember it," George chuckled, nodding. "Your eyes opened so wide at everything; I thought they were going to fall out of your skull!"
Mrs. Weasley shot George a warning glance, but you pretended not to notice, and laughed, "I'm sure I'd still have the same reaction now."
"And how old are you today, y/n?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"Eighteen," you replied.
Mr. Weasley's brow furrowed. "Isn't that a significant age for muggles?"
"Well, I can vote now, but—"
"And how exactly does that work?" Mr. Weasley asked, intrigued.
"Oh, don't bother the poor girl with questions," Mrs. Weasley said.
"I'd be happy to tell you about it sometime, Arthur," Mum chuckled. "For now, how about we open presents!"
TAG LIST: @tomhockstetter7-111 @jasm-1ne @costheticbabe @luthien-elvenia-asher @megablonde22 @thecuteavocado @weasleylady92 @websfromallthespiders @rubyintheforest @weasleylover4eva @georgeweasleyslostearhq @im-coolrat @them-cute-boys @xmadigurlx @keirasinbin @huayan @deathtonumber7 @elmolovesw33d @coffeebeans11
23 notes · View notes
val-made-a-mistake · 1 year ago
Text
❝THE SECOND DRINK.❞
Tumblr media
(not my gif)
summary: the second part to the firewhiskey series, this time liquid courage brings you to the aftermath of the world cup. the drunken celebration and the we are the champions euphoria and the singing and dancing inside of your enormous tent - possibly the last time you and george would feel invincible, just hours before the world was flipped upside down.
warnings: domestic fluff, alcohol again, obviously, mentions of near-death experiences/being trampled, the phrase “drinking like a maniac” is used but in no way is alcohol being abused
word count: 1.4k
a/n: okay, okay, i know like 95% of what i write is smut, but i seriously love writing domestic fluff. :) hope you enjoy!
//////
“Let’s fucking go!” Fred shouted the moment he’d stomped back into the tent, flinging his arms into the air, “Break out the Firewhiskey, lads, it’s time to get our Irish party on…”
“Stop shouting, Fred,” Percy said irritably from the couch, shutting his outdated copy of Witch Weekly with a sharp SLAP. “You wouldn’t want Mother to hear about this, I assure you, I know you’ve been drinking like a maniac.”
“You’re so right, Weatherby,” George chortled from alongside Fred, and as Percy’s ears glowed red, you had to slap a hand to your mouth to suppress your laugh.
“Where did the boys go?” Arthur asked blankly from behind the twins, pivoting on his heel. Whether genuine or otherwise, he appeared not to have heard Fred’s desire to get drunk. “I - Harry?”
“Sorry, Mr Weasley,” Harry said as he ducked back into the tent, out of breath and red in the face. “That was - um, we ran into a couple of people.”
“That was the stupidest stunt I think you’ve ever pulled in your life, Ron!” a young, shrill voice you quickly realized was Hermione Granger’s shrieked from just outside the tent. “Five Galleons? For what?”
“Please don’t ask,” Harry tried weakly.
It had been an awkward stretch of time between the initial finale of the World Cup in the late afternoon and however long it had taken for the rest of them to get back to the tent after they’d decided to fetch some water from the opposite side of the campground. First getting back to your tent in the influx of wizards leaving the arena had been a terrifying endeavour, when everyone was shouting, cheering, dancing, singing, setting off green and gold bursts of sparks from their wands, and leprechauns were scampering about.
In fact, the horde had almost trampled you in their excitement, and you knew you’d never be able to repay Charlie for snatching you out just in time.
So it was understandable why you’d been reluctant to return to the festivities since then: you’d been lounging in the flat-sized tent with the older Weasley siblings, sipping tea and watching your leprechaun gold disappear on the counter while you waited for everyone to come back.
“I am ready to sleep for three days,” Ginny announced as she flounced back into the tent, her hands on her hips. “God, what a match!”
“Moran - Mullet - back to Moran - they score!” George cried out, laughing heartily at himself. “Where’s Bagman, eh? We’re bloody rich.”
“Where’s your girl?” Fred asked, looking around blankly, but he spotted you instantly. “Oh, there she is.”
You felt your cheeks warm at the title.
“You survived the campground,” you mumbled with a small smile on your face.
“We did,” George replied, stepping forward to wrap you in a hasty, one-armed hug. For seemingly no reason, he leaned in to kiss the side of your head, but you recognized the gesture for what it was.
“You still got the Firewhiskey?” he whispered in your ear.
You did: until Fred had openly announced his intention to get drunk, it had been kept a bit on the down low that you had the rest of the five Galleon bottle hidden away in your bag in the girls’ tent, because you knew there wasn’t a chance Molly would allow you to bring liquid courage to the World Cup.
(Honestly, it had been a bit saddening, knowing you were about to drink the rest of it. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get to Diagon Alley before you went off to Hogwarts to replenish your stash, and you’d be damned trying to getting a glass from Madam Rosmerta at Hogsmeade, so this was your summer’s last hurrah.)
Looking to the positive, you nodded slightly and released him.
“May as well put dinner on,” said Arthur, wandering around the kitchen kind of aimlessly, “The festivities will be starting soon...”
Ginny laughed, tossing her fiery red mane over her shoulder. “You say that like they haven’t already started, Dad.”
“We won, lads!” Fred took the opportunity to shout again, and everyone laughed, except Percy, but you saw his slight smile.
//////
As the evening progressed, the party atmosphere around the campground intensified. The sound of drums and bagpipes echoed through the night, people sang songs in the beautiful Irish tongue you couldn’t understand, and at some point, people began setting off colorful Muggle fireworks, casting dazzling spells into the night sky. Wizarding and magical entertainment combined together, it made for a wonderful and chaotic night.
The Weasley family and their friends gathered around a small campfire outside the tent, toasting marshmallows and giving each other a play-by-play of the afternoon’s match for the millionth time. It didn’t matter how many times they went over the match, how many lively debates erupted, or how many times somebody claimed to see the Snitch flying around before Krum, nobody could get enough.
“Moran was doing things with a Quaffle I’ve never seen before,” Ginny was saying, her eyes shining. “I cannot believe she was able to get that second goal past Zograf, it was honestly astounding-“
Above your heads, fireworks were detonating in fascinating spirals and twists bursting with colour, drowning out Ginny’s voice.
Tipsy, you stared up at them in wonder. There were leprechauns giggling and frolicking among the twinkling stars, taunting those sitting below, and the fireworks were consistently a mix of orange, green, and white for Ireland’s flag - you hadn’t seen any retaliation from the Bulgarian corner of the campsite just yet, but it wouldn’t have mattered, Ireland was demanding all the attention.
George had pulled you into him on the log, the Muggle fire was crackling in front of you, orange and warm. Your throat was still on fire from the first sips of Firewhiskey, but you were already feeling the warmth of the drink in your belly, and for a moment, all was well. Your face fit perfectly in the crook of George’s neck. He smelled like a spice you couldn’t quite place, and Chocolate Frogs.
“No time for losers…’cause we are the champions…” you heard a crowd singing in the distance, and you smiled gently, delighted that a Muggle song was so catchy, it had found its way into the wizarding world.
Amid the laughter and cheer, you couldn't help but express your curiosity about the mysterious stunt that Ron and Harry had pulled earlier, so you discreetly tapped Ron on the shoulder.
“Come on, you two, spill the beans. What did you do for those five Galleons?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
On his other side, Harry exchanged a glance with Ron before sharing a mischievous grin.
(Merlin, did he ever look like his father.)
"Let's just say we had a little bet with some fellow fans, and things got a bit competitive," Harry said, trying to be vague while his green eyes twinkled with mischief.
Ginny, who had been chatting with Bill, Charlie, and Percy, overheard their conversation and couldn't resist chiming in. "Oh, I know exactly what they did. You see, they challenged a group of Bulgarian fans to a broomstick race. They had to fly around the campsite three times, and the first one back won.”
Ron laughed, confirming Ginny's story, "Yeah, and I flew like a bat out of hell. Harry and I beat those Bulgarians fair and square. I've never seen Harry fly so fast, bloody hell.”
The group erupted into laughter as Ron continued his story in a melodramatic tone, describing his daring flight and the impressed expressions on the Bulgarian fans' faces. Even Percy, over on the other log, couldn't help but crack a smile at the ridicule of it.
“You know you weren’t supposed to do that, Ron,” Hermione reminded him, but her sourness seemed a bit forced: she had clearly enjoyed the spectacle just as much as everyone else.
With everyone laughing and merry, it seemed like a good time to slip away.
“Want a tea, George?” you asked rather pointedly, without looking at him.
Catching on, George was already getting up from the log. “Isn’t the kettle in the tent?’
“Be right back, everyone,” you announced, before you hurried back into the tent that positively stunk of cats.
As the clock ticked toward midnight, you couldn't help but reflect on the incredible bond you had formed with the Weasley family. Your last summer hurrah had turned into an unforgettable adventure, and you looked forward to more magical moments at Hogwarts in the coming year.
89 notes · View notes